Kate on Steroids

Had to skip today's KVTR ride, as when I let the girls out last evening, I noticed a large swelling on Kate's belly, remarkably similar to the symptoms of the  [suspected] bite on her udder three years ago.

http://mountaintrailmusic.blogspot.com/2009/04/unique-one-of-kind-kate.html

 This one was more on the flat of her broad tummy, about as big around as a dinner plate, and maybe an inch thick.  When I checked it again this morning, there were two more, though smaller.

Into the vet we went.  Dr. Joan was happy it wasn't an edema, which would have required more detective work to determine the cause.  Because they were all fairly hard, she decided they were hives.  She found one spot that was actually draining, and she suspects that Kate was bit by something--much as was our best guess three years ago.  A shot of steroids, and I'll give her some bute starting tomorrow, to reduce the inflammation.

The swelling has already gone down this evening.

*******

Now for this week's mountain trail horse training segment:

He forgot Kate's spots!

A Bend in the Road, and a New Path Appears

Remember the "look" I mentioned in the last post, that Anita saw Beth give her as we loaded up to bring home?

In the week between getting Beth home and the abscess erupting, Anita was doing some hard thinking about Beth's options, too.  She tells me that she had always sort of liked little Beth, but that her husband was wary of Beth's crooked front leg (which she has somewhat grown out of, with careful trimming, but she still toes out some).  Anita even contacted an animal communicator that week, to see if she could get into Beth's head, indirectly.

One night she called me and wanted to know what was the least I would take for Beth, crooked legs, sassy attitude, possible broken jaw, and all.

 *****

I first met Anita and her husband, Terry, the year I was dragging our second colt Pete (Kate's uncle) all over the area for little shows and expos, as a way to market him.  Terry really liked the long yearling, his build, his attitude and his Quincy Dan bloodlines.

Champion Gelding at the Kittitas County Fair

Pete, ready to greet his adoring fans the public.

They were a little horse-heavy at the time, and my asking price was a bit steep, so they weren't able to purchase Pete.  But we struck up a lasting friendship.

A few years later, Anita fell in love with little Maddie.

 

Anita even brought her black tack with the red accessories out one day when Maddie was three, and we did some ground work.  (She still insists that Maddie looks perfect in red!)

 
Anita had had a nasty wreck a few years earlier, and one summer we did some confidence building on Eddie/Pete/Maddie/Beth/Jackson's mama Misty.

So it seems that Anita has some sort of attachment to Misty and her babies.
 *****
I was reluctant to say yes to the deal.  It's sort of like the old saw that you should never sell a used car to a friend or relative.
It seemed like I would be taking advantage of them:  I had everything to gain from selling Beth--one less mouth to feed; no more doctoring; no more training expense; no risk that Beth would never fully recover.  And the knowledge that Beth would have a permanent home--no horse ever gets sold off their place, for any reason--at worse, they would return her to me if she absolutely didn't work out with their other horses.  I had always been worried that I would sell Beth to somebody for whom she wouldn't work out, and she'd sooner or later end up on a truck to Canada (in spite of the fact that I always put a buy-back clause in all my sales).

 The advantage for Beth, besides the commitment Anita and Terry would make to her, was that Terry had just started his winter layoff and the two of them could regularly doctor her wounds, feed her smaller, more frequent meals, and be much more consistent working with her, when she was ready to start into training again.  They knew exactly what they were getting into, disposition-wise, and had a pretty good idea of the possible medical issues and consequences.

But I felt a little like I would be dumping my problems with Beth on them, both medical and training-related.  I didn't want to damage our friendship.
I was so reluctant that, at one point, Anita thought it was something about them that I didn't like--and that in itself put a little bit of a strain into our conversations.

At any rate, when I took Beth in to see Dr. Mark Hayden again that Friday, Anita and Terry met me there.

The discrepancy between what Ryan had told me about the accident happening at the trailer, and the Yakima vet's notes saying she had hit  a railroad tie came up again.  There was a concern that perhaps a large spinter of somewhat toxic RR tie might have gotten imbedded in Beth's jaw.  I had emailed Ryan the night before for clarification.
Turns out, Beth had been tied to the trailer, but it had been backed up to a fence line with RR tie posts.  Being on the rear-most tie ring, she was in a little corner formed by the trailer and the fence.  On her last pull-back she had come down violently on the top of the post!
The other thing that Ryan said in his response was that the cause of the whole incident had come to light just the previous day--While moving some horses into the paddock adjoining the spot where the trailer was, he, the horses, and his dogs were attacked and stung multiple times, when they disturbed a nest of ground hornets!  There is no doubt now that this was what set Beth off.
In a way, it was nice to know she had good reason--I was honestly starting to worry that I had a horse who was not just sassy, but crazy to the point of self destruction!

Three X-rays later, we were assured that there was no splinter, no further fractures, and no tooth damage.  But there was one humongous abscess, just below her front molar on the same side as the bone fragment had been; luckily, it didn't appear that the infection had settled into the bone itself, which would have made it even harder to treat.  Dr. Mark cleaned the wound out some, and changed the oral antibiotics to something a little stronger and more specific to the type of infection he saw.  And I took her home.
But only for the night.

I had decided we could make the deal with Anita and Terry work.
But by the time we were done at the clinic, though, it was pushing 4:30 pm.  Too late in the shortening daylight hours to ask Beth to settle into a new place, after all that she's been through in the last month.

Saturday morning we loaded up into the trailer again--she's gotten really good at that!--and headed west to Anita's and Terry's rented farmstead.  They have an assortment of rescues, along with their personal horses, mostly Arabs.  Beth unloaded, and sauntered up the drive past all those snorty Ay-rabs, and settled in a small paddock with a shelter and open to their round pen.  Two of Anita's mares took offense to her being in "their" pen, but Beth just looked at them as if to say "What's your problem?!?"  She immediately checked out her new digs, nibbled on some of their finer grass hay (still with her head tilt), and generally made herself at home.


 
In the two weeks since then, Beth has steadily improved: she's not tilting her head for her Senior feed (though she still does for hay).  The wound under her chin has stopped most of it's drainage, and was starting to close up, but then they think Beth rubbed it and opened it up again some, and Anita is a little worried about the possibility of proudflesh.
The other horses seem to be accepting Beth better, though she'll still get the "stink eye" from the one mare that has been the nastiest all along (originally, Mariah would rear and charge the fence).  One little mare that Anita had hoped would be her companion had not seemed open to the idea at first, but managed to get in the pen with her the other day (long story) and they seemed to be okay together for that short while.  Anita is waiting until the wound is more healed before she puts Beth out in the pasture with anybody, for fear of her getting stupid and injuring it further.

The funny thing is:

Anita had thought Beth might be a good horse for her, if and when she healed enough to continue in her training as a saddle horse.  Her small size (maybe 15 hands) is something Anita appreciates these days.
But the reality is that Beth seems to have chosen Terry as her human.
Terry, who has always maintained that mares don't like him.  Terry, who wasn't sure about her legs as a baby.  Terry, who is a pretty tall fellow.

Beth follows Terry around like a pesky little sister.  The other day they went for a wander-walk around the place, and Terry remembered why he tends to prefer the stock breeds over silly Ay-rabs.
Beth has found her forever home.

Hospital Zone

When I went the 45 miles or so down to Yakima to pick up Beth on the 17th, I wanted to have someone along for back-up, if I needed it.  Pat was unavailable, and hubby Al was willing, but my friend Anita offered as well.  Trouble was, Anita is recovering from rotator cuff surgery just now, and wouldn't be much physical help, if Beth got into trouble in the trailer...she came along primarily for moral support (and she had a working cell phone, which, at the moment, I didn't).  So she met me in town, and we headed south.

I wasn't sure yet if I wanted to put Beth in the regular slant stall, or leave the dividers open and let her travel loose.  The only halter I have that has the snap at the jaw was Kate's, which would be pretty roomy on Beth, but I figured I could leave the snap undone to avoid her wound if I needed to.

Beth was barely recognizable.  Her face, jaw and neck were swollen, and she hung her head above the pile of uneaten hay.  Ryan said she was hardly eating even the softened pellets he offered her--the dogs would come in and finish them off if he didn't pull the feeder out once she stopped nibbling at them.  He had given up even trying to give her the penicillin shots in her hindquarters, quick as she is with her back feet (even in her depressed state).  So there was some edema (swelling) forming on one side of her neck, and in her lower chest, where he had to move once the neck muscles had taken all they were going to take of the poking.  She had one fairly deep laceration on her right shoulder, and a few scrapes on her legs, but the obvious focus of her injuries was her left jaw bone, where she now had seven stitches.  Ryan explained that the vet had actually had to cut the wound open a little farther, to get the huge chunk of bone out.

We gingerly put the halter on and led her to my trailer.  Seeing as how the last time she loaded into a trailer was after her injury (to the vet's) and the time before that was the trip down to this place of hard work, and then pain, she was understandably reluctant to load up.  I also didn't want to pull any on her head, so Ryan brought over a lunge whip and it didn't take much more than a few taps for her to load up.  Later, Anita was to tell me that Beth gave her a look that really sunk into Anita's soul--sort of a "What the h%*# have I done now!?!" look of despair.

Hauling home was uneventful, and I set Beth up in a private paddock on the south side of the barn, with free access to a matted stall.  Kate and Maddie were in the next door paddock. She picked up one little mouth of hay, mouthed it only a bit, then let it drop back into the feeder.  I soaked some Equine Senior for her, and she showed a little more interest in nibbling at that, but seemed to dislike it once it turned to total mush.  So I tried little 2-cup portions as often as she would clean it up, or turn up her nose at it.  Ryan had given her a dose of bute the morning we picked her up, but I discontinued it at this point, somewhat worried about that much NSAIDs on an essentially empty stomach.  She was drinking decently, from a heated bucket.

By Tuesday night, however, she hadn't perked up any.  And probably hadn't eaten even the equivalent of one meal for a horse her size.  I set up to take the morning off and take her in to my vet.  Besides, Ryan had told me the stitches should come out on Thursday--I wondered if it was too early to have Dr. Mark take them out while we were there.

The vet's office in Yakima faxed up their notes from the original emergency visit and emailed the digital X-rays.  Dr. Mark also talked with the vet there for background.  (One interesting thing was that the vet's notes talked about Beth hitting her head on a railroad tie, and both Anita and I remembered that Ryan had said the wreck happened tied to his trailer.  I didn't think too much about it at this time--but it was later to come up.  It illustrated the difficulty of communications that continued through the next couple of weeks.)

Dr. Mark was a little surprised that Beth had finished with her antibiotics already, but the wound on her jaw actually looked pretty good.  After consulting with the Yakima vet, it was decided the stitches should actually stay in another week, but they were in a place where I could probably pull them myself, if all else was going well (and Beth would let me).

Mark checked Beth's teeth, and didn't see any cracks or bruising of the gums.  What he did see was a need for a float job--I probably should have had it done before she went down for training: there were some points, and some older sores on her cheeks from same.  Plus there was a noticeable curve developing from the jaws not lining up with each other properly.  We hated to traumatize her jaw further, but he felt that she would do better with the food she was eating with her teeth in better shape.  He also wanted me to restart giving her bute once a day.  Once the sedative wore off, I ran her home and rushed back to work.

Through the rest of the week, and over the weekend, Beth started eating a little bit more enthusiastically.  She would, however, tilt her head off the one side (usually to the right).  She still wasn't much interested in hay, but seemed to enjoy being back out in the pasture.  Bringing her in for dinner and meds, she began to greet me, and would sometimes trot in--more energy than she had shown for awhile--which seemed like a good thing.
Beth continued to eat a little better each day for the next week, but one thing I began to worry about, that I hadn't noticed prior to the vet trip, was increased swelling in her lower lip, back along the jaw into her chin groove.  It became hotter and harder and more tender as the week progressed, and Beth started to back off her feed again.
On Tuesday evening, two full weeks after the original injury, I didn't get home until after dark, and couldn't convince Beth to come in for her grain (and bute)--not totally unexpected, but something about her chin didn't look right in the dark.  The next morning she came in, but I only got a glance before she headed out again.  Now it appeared there was something caked on her chin.  That night, I managed to get her in, closing the gate behind her, and coaxed her over to me and gingerly put on her halter.  In the process I managed to smear stinky pus all over my barn coat!  She had popped an abscess right behind her lower lip!

I cleaned it up enough to find a thumb print sized wound.  I took her temp (only very slightly elevated) and called the after-hours vet's number, hoping that maybe Dr. Mark would be on call, so I wouldn't have to explain the whole situation to someone else.  Nope.  But the doc did say that since her temperature wasn't too high, there wasn't much that could be done, other than hot soaks.  I did have one dose of powdered antibiotics that I gave her, thinking to stop the next day and get more, along with scheduling a visit with Dr. Mark.  What I was worried about now was whether there might be an additional break in Beth's chin.

So.
I mentioned a dilemma in the last post, but forgot to elaborate on it.
I have a challenging young mare, who is only green broke.  She's not one I've ever planned on keeping, but I knew I needed to have her going better before I could sell her.
I've got twice as much into training than she is worth in today's market.
And now there is the prospect that she may have a broken jaw.  I've already got more in vet bills in two weeks than I have for the training.  I can't afford much more.
If there's another break, I don't think I can extend myself for surgery--do I put her down?
Even if the jaw is not broken, Beth may well become a pasture ornament.
What are my options?

Next post:  an unexpected possibility.

Now What?

Note:  I started this post well over a week ago, and there have been developments and complications since then. I decided I just need to post what I have, then, hopefully this weekend, I can bring it further up to date.

I got bad news on Monday (the 10th), and now I find myself facing a dilemma.

Maddie’s little sister Beth (Brioso) has always been a challenge for me.  I’ve said many times that she is “smart, quick, and sassy!”  Lately, I’ve added “and she’s more horse than I care to ride, these days.”  The glitch I had with Maddie earlier this summer, I’ve more or less worked through, and though I still don’t fully “trust “ Maddie, I feel it’s mostly just “green horse moments” that I have to watch for.  But Beth has always had an issue with respect, even as a foal—She’s been bunches better the last couple of years, but will still threaten a kick if one gets after her for, say, invading a human’s space; she hasn’t actually kicked at me in a long time, just wants to see if I can be buffaloed.

I also haven’t ever been really bonded with Beth, not like Maddie and Kate.  I’m not really sure why that is—maybe because, by the time Beth (and Lindy) were foaled in 2006, I was getting to my limit of how much I could do with each horse (I was up to 9 at the time), on top of full-time work.  I have actually gotten to like her more in the last year or so—is that because she’s being nicer?—or she’s being nicer because I’m showing more caring to her?

At any rate, a year and a half ago, knowing she was going to need consistent work, I sent Beth to a local trainer who was recommended by a member of the KVTR.  Although he got the first couple of rides on her, it wasn’t all that I hoped it would be—because he, too, works a full time job, he was not able to be as consistent with her as he had promised.  Plus, looking back now, I’m not sure he wasn’t a bit intimidated by her.  He did a lot of round pen ground work, and got maybe 10 rides on her—also in the pen.  He probably only had her in a trot the last day or two.

But it was enough that I knew she wouldn't totally lose it under saddle, and I figured I could take over after that initial 30 days.  As soon as school was out that year, I got another few weeks of work on her, starting in my arena (my round pen was flooded), and then out into my pastures a few times.  I also rode her "in public" at that summer's "Horse Daze" private treaty sale, sponsored by our local rescue group.  I was encouraged that she was doing fairly well, with no buck, and only the occasional balk.  Although I didn’t feel confident enough to really get after her, I was able to work through the “stuck” moments. 

Then, I admit, I dropped the ball.  I was having too much fun with Kate and Maddie.  Beth went back out in the pasture by the end of July.  I probably would have picked up with her again this year, if not for my confidence shaking experience with Maddie in June.

Beth is not a horse that I ever planned to keep.  She needs steady work, and, being reining bred, would probably do well in any challenging speed event for the right person.

That person isn’t me.  I’m no longer a “go-fast-cat”-- haven’t been in many years.  So Beth has always been for sale.  But she comes in a plain brown wrapper (no Paint markings), and, although she has a pretty nice shoulder and hip, and a very feminine neck and face, her front legs aren’t as straight and nice as I would like.  Her breeding is nothing spectacular, and though she’s registered, I would never recommend her as a broodmare prospect.
And there’s that attitude.  Oh all the horses I’ve raised, she’s the one that I can honestly say will probably never be a kid’s horse.  Even with some additional training and lots more mileage.

So I finally sucked it up and sent her to another young trainer, who came highly recommended by blogger friend, Aarene, of Haiku Farm.  Ryan had helped Aarene work through some issues with her temperamental opinionated Standardbred mare, Fiddle.  He was the fellow who came up and worked with Maddie in August, just so I could see if she was going to behave better with the new felt girth on my Tucker saddle (she did, and I rode her myself the next day).

So, Ryan got a good three weeks going on Beth:  Started out working through the attitude, but had progressed to loping in his arena, and riding around the vicinity of his place down near Yakima.  He didn't feel she was "ready" yet, but she was doing better.  My plan was to bring her home at 30 days, and take her back to him in the late winter to ready her for any possible spring sale.
Early last Monday morning they had a nice ride, and Ryan had tied Beth to his trailer, where he always had her wait, while he went to get his next horse.
As he was walking back, all heck broke loose!  We can't say for sure what triggered it, as she has never pulled back, either here at home, or for him.  He saw it unfold from a ways away, but was truly not able to stop it once it started.  The best we can figure, perhaps a cold, mad wasp had zapped her.
Beth pulled back in a blind panic. Then rushed forward, slamming her face into the trailer.
Then again: pull back, slam forward.
And one more time!
When she was done, Ryan assessed the damage:  multiple scrapes on her face and one shoulder (his original description to me was "hamburger," tho it ended up not looking quite so bad).  And a nasty gash under her jaw, that he felt needed to be stitched up.  He kept me updated by phone and email all day, as he hauled her in to his vet.  Not only did Beth need stitches, she had broken a chunk off the bottom of her jaw bone the size of my little finger!

Vet removed the bone chip, and said that it wasn't all that serious an issue (there's a LOT of bone in that particular location)--the biggest danger was infection.  Talking to Ryan that evening after the dust had settled, I offered to come get her the next day (I had been planning to go down on Tuesday to watch them work together), but allowed as how it would be lots easier for me to wait until the weekend.  Ryan agreed to keep her there until Sunday.  This had the added advantage that he could keep a much closer eye on her during the day, and also do all the doctoring and the penicillin shots (orals weren't an option, partly because she wasn't eating much).

 Next post: Bringing Beth home.

You Wanna Fat Lip?

I'll give you a fat lip!

I was prepared to do an exciting post this evening showing a ton of photos from the mountain trail show scheduled today at the Washington State Horse Park.  Grandson Mike was to be official photographer/groom/general go-fer.  Last evening, the tack was all clean, the trailer was hitched up and the gear was loaded, and the water tank and hay bag were stuffed full.  Kate was bathed and beautiful--I put a light weight sheet on her to try to keep her that way overnight.

This morning, Mike woke up on the first call (amazing, in itself--he's 14), I braided my hair and squeezed into my skinny jeans (yeah!) and my no-bounce sports bra.  We went out at 6:30 to feed everybody and catch up the horse...

Both Mike and I saw it at the same time:

BLOOD!

The Boo-Boo Baby, once again

A palm sized patch of Kate's nose, between her nostrils, was bloody.

I couldn't tell from outside the barn if it was just smeared from a small cut, or if the whole nose was raw.  The other thing I noted as I sprinted through to the girls' paddock was the absence of Kate's nylon sheet.  The scenario began to form in my mind.

I gave everybody their grain (else I contend with their sense of entitlement whilst trying to assess the damage) and very gently slipped the halter over Kate's head. She did manage to finish most of her pellets, though she didn't hoover up the last little bits in the bottom of the bucket.

I led her over to the water trough and gently rinsed her nose. 

"Ouch, Mommy!"

Her upper lip was swollen and hot to the touch.  I gingerly checked her mouth, but there didn't seem to be any internal damage to gums or teeth or tongue.  It was your basic road rash/rug burn type of abrasion. 

There were also a few scrapes over her right eye, and one shallow cut just under her lower eyelashes.

My best guess is that she somehow got tangled up in the sheet (most of which was found later in the pasture), and in arguing her way out of it, she managed to do your basic face-plant.  So much for my coordinated trail horse.

I brought her into the barn and smeared Novalsan ointment as tenderly as I could.  Kate was not happy with this plan at first, but the cool blue salve must have felt good, as she relaxed and let me liberally cover her nose and the eye scrapes with it.  (I like Novalsan as an initial antibiotic, as it is water based rather than oil, and lets the wound breathe--it tends to prevent a lot of scarring.)  I also gave her a gram of bute for inflammation.  I checked the rest of her body and didn't find any further injuries.  In the arena, she jogged out reluctantly, but sound.

Mike took her over to the tall grass while I pondered whether she was up to the trail competition.  This was the last of a series; I had missed the first because of rain, and the second due to haying commitments.  She had been so together the other day in the wilderness that I thought nothing man-made would slow her down.

Physically, Kate was sound.  But when Mike brought her back over to me and said she wasn't interested in the grass, I knew she wasn't going.  She was hurting and I wasn't going to ask her to perform just for my ego's sake.

In the end, Kate's injuries are all superficial.  The good nylon sheet, however, was toast.

Silly Sunday & BooBoo Baby Butt Update

Well, this is an experiment.
That's why Silly Sunday Shorts are coming to (all three of) you on Tuesday.
But I've been experimenting with something new I can do with Picasa, Google's free photo editing software. And besides, I have been working hard on all those projects I used to have eight days to complete....and now only have one!
(Music is Jackson Browne's Nino.)

What I think is cute is that RT is becoming more active in playing with Jackson, perhaps because of the cooler weather, or perhaps just because Jackson is hard to ignore.
In the end, they're getting to be pretty good buddies.
As for the proverbial horse's petooty, Jackson's rear-end seems to be resolving itself. From a distance, and with the optical distraction of his markings, you don't really notice the swelling anymore, unless you're looking for it. I can still feel it, and it actually seems to be more tender than at first--maybe the underlying bruised tissues are now closer to the surface.And a little contusion has developed. Not sure if this is indicative of the original wound, or an issue of skin stretched too far for two weeks now. After getting these photos, I smeared it with Desitin (yes, the diaper rash goo). If it were a brand new injury, I would start with Nolvasan, for it's anti-biotic qualities (and I like the fact that it's water-based and the wound can breathe). But because this is an old injury, and presumably well past the infection stage, I have found that Desitin is a wonderful skin repair treatment.Now he has a problem on his other side: Tell me again why I have horses with so much white in their coats!

Boo-Boo Baby Butt (update)

The little gal who was caretaking the horses for our weekend getaway was worried that Jackson's hematoma was not getting any better. But, of course, she was looking at it twice daily.

Upon returning after two and a half days, I could definitely see some progress, albeit, slow.

B.B.B. (Before Butt Bump)

Thursday AM:

Friday AM:

Sunday PM:I'll continue to monitor it for an abscess forming, but I think the little butt is going to be okay.

As for our weekend, I'll have future posts on the trip, but the concert itself was outstanding. Browne sang a nice mix of old hits and new songs, and had an outstanding band and two gloriously talented back-up singers.
The only things that marred a wonderful evening were related to site management screw-ups: the major one being their shifting policy on cameras. Originally (on their website) they said "No cameras of any kind." While waiting in line however, the sign said "No professional cameras." (emphasis mine). When asked by a nearby concert-goer what they considered "professional" they said "Anything that the lens detaches from." So Al went all the way back to the car and got my little Canon point and shoot. But as we were entering the venue, we watched as two different guys brought in their big digitals, basically convincing the gate folks that "I'm not a professional." And we saw several more inside.
I was pissed!
Primarily because, with my (Al's) Nikon D40, I could have gotten much nicer photos than these two:

Half the shots I took, I just deleted; even of the ones I saved, most are fuzzy and dark and distant. Last night, after I down-loaded them, I fired off a somewhat irate email to the management. But I'm having to work hard not to let it spoil the [largely undocumented] memories.

Not So Silly Baby

Today was Al's first day of vacation. He had a doctor's appointment first thing, and I was going to go into town with him, to get last minute supplies and gas for our trip tomorrow. I headed out to the barn to do a "quick feed" and put everybody's fly masks on. As Jackson stepped away from me, his left hindquarter looked positively deformed!

At first I thought that there was an indentation right at the point of his buttock. Looking closer, there was actually a hot, soft, fluid-filled swelling, perhaps the size of a cantaloupe, with more generalized swelling surrounding it, from the croup halfway down to his hock. Upon close inspection, I could find no "wound"--whether puncture or abrasion. He was not running a fever, which might signify an infection or some kind of insect bite gone overboard. He was moving just fine (thank you), as evidenced by the "catch-me-if-you-can" game he played with me when breakfast was no longer in play as an incentive (maybe just a wee bit stiff). So my conclusion is that he probably got kicked.
Hard.
Probably by his own mama (I've never seen RT offer to kick him).So Al went to town without me, and I changed out of my "city clothes." After consulting with the vet, I hosed Jackson's round rump down for maybe ten minutes, every hour or so for the rest of the day.
I had not yet had the "bath" lesson, but Jackson handled it pretty well. All those folks who suggest starting at the legs and working up to the body don't seem to take into account the fact that the legs, having less muscle mass, are more sensitive. Jackson did NOT like the hose on his legs, but tolerated it on his hips, barrel, and shoulders pretty well.And truly seemed to appreciate it on his swollen butt!By afternoon the generalized swelling was down, and I think the main area as well, though it's a little hard to tell for sure, because the lessening of the diffuse swelling made the localized lump stand out all the more.
It was now close to 100 degrees out, and wanting to make this a total bathing experience, I sprayed him down pretty much from throatlatch to tail. Both sides.Misty, too, got the evaporative cooling treatment, while RT waited his turn.
Aaah!
Tonight, things look a little better still. I showed the folks that will be minding the farm, and told them what to look for, red-flag-wise: more point-localized swelling, or an actual abscess rupturing. They will have our cell number, and there are lots of folks nearby to help if need be (the primary one being my trail buddy, Pat).
We'll postpone leaving on our trip 'til a little later than I'd planned. I'll decide about noon if I need to cancel the evening's motel reservation....

Abcess update

After the trip to the vet's on Saturday, Kate has been an absolute grouch! I can't say as I blame her too much, as I've continued to poke and prod her twice a day.

She doesn't want to get caught (absolutely new behavior), even with food involved (!), but once she realizes I won't quit 'til she stands for the halter, she faces up and looks for sympathy. (I took this video on a day when she's actually getting better--tho, in the moment it took me to shut off the camera and put it away, she decided to take off again, with a buck-fart.)

Then what does she get?

More poking and proding!

She's gotten better about the syringe of meds (in an applesauce paste), and actually seems to appreciate the hot packs and a little massging of the swelling on her udder. But once I try to get the other syringe, full of dilute iodine, anywhere near the drainage hole on her udder to flush it out, she stomps, and dances, and kicks out--usually at the wall behind her, but occassionally a cow-kick in my direction. (She actually connected hard with the stall door yesterday, and broke the heavy duty latch!) Talking to the vet yesterday, pointing out the absurdity of my doing, by myself, what it took three of us (and a sedative) to do Saturday, he said if I just get plenty of iodine on the udder it should be okay. So I've taken to adding it to the hot water soaks.

With all this, how is Kate?

Judging from the bucking-leaping-airs-above-the-ground hissy fits that continue because she's turned out separate from her buddies, she feels fine! I do worry that she'll try to scale the two fences between herself and the rest of the herd, so I watch until she settles down to eat. (My principal has been very patient with my repeated, slight tardiness.)

The abcess still feels very hard, but seems to be slowly decreasing in size. The vet had said there was quite a bit of a fibrous scar tissue capsule around the infected pocket that he drained. I worry that maybe he didn't get it all out, but there certainly hasn't been much drainage evidenced on her white back legs, nor when I try to squeeze it out.

Udderly Unique

Back a ways, dp recounted the mysterious saga of Tonka's swollen Willy.

This week, Kate has developed a similar, though notably feminine, issue.

After Maddie's show on Saturday, it was Kate's turn for a ride on Sunday. Neither girl has any competitions for a few weeks, but, now that they're going well, I want to keep them going, and develop some muscle tone--on myself, as well as the fillies. So when my trail-riding neighbor/friend Pat suggested we join her and a few others for a Sunday ride, I was more or less game (I'm still fighting the crud). In the on-going battle of shedding season, I was working on everyone's coat with the shedding blade, while they munched on their breakfast.

But when Kate responded with uncharacteristic nastiness to a belly scrub, I looked in her nether regions to find the right front quarter of her udder swollen quite dramatically: general puffiness through an area bigger than my hand, and a center area the size of a clenched fist and as hard a not-quite-ripe pear! I quickly brought her in for further assessment.

Appetite was good (it's Kate, after all), temperature was pretty normal (99.8), respirations seemed a little high, though I had no watch to actually time them, but not labored, pulse--well, even with a stethescope, I've never been very good at getting a pulse--even back when Corky and I were trying to track P&R's for competitive trail rides (the 25-50 mile kind, not what I trying to do with Kate). I was able to "milk" a very small amount of clear, yellowish fluid from the one teat (after cleaning the udder completely). Kate was obviously tender, but not so much so that she didn't let me do all of the above investigation.

Called the vet's after hours line and got the young associate at my regular clinic (they share on-call with another local clinic) who is familiar with Kate. He, however, always seems skeptical of my information. I didn't even call it mastitis, yet he was dubious that it actually involved her udder--he wanted to make it an edema from a random kick.

Now granted, mastitis is fairly uncommon in horses, just because their udders are so far from random bacteria on the ground, and pretty well protected between the hind legs. And in a maiden mare, who has never nursed a foal, it's even more rare. Young vet seemed to want it to be just an edema that just "navigated" to her belly, and then "settled" in the general region of the udder. He suggested hot packs and a little bute for the pain and swelling. When I suggested that Kate and I would be waiting at the clinic when it opened on Monday, he reluctantly agreed.

I was already feeling negligent that I hadn't seen this earlier--it couldn't possibly have developed overnight. In fact, I was worried that it had maybe occured the previous weekend at the trail challenge, and I had forced her to compete at less than 100%! How could I have missed it?

Monday morning, after calling in to school, we hauled into town (luckily the trailer was already hitched up, from Maddie's show). It's frustrating to me that the primary vet, who admittedly was young and inexperienced himself when we first started using his services 10 years ago, seems to rarely be at this clinic, focusing more on the adjunct clinic 40 miles away. Dr. Mark knows me and my horse handling background and skills, and treats me, if not as an equal, since I have obviously not gone to vet school, at least as a knowedgeable horseperson. I can suggest possible diagnoses and ask about treatment options, without feeling talked down to. Dr. Ben, on the other hand, seems to need to reinforce his authority and expertise. I had to bite my tongue when he proceeded to be surprised that Kate seemed to have an "unusual" case of mastitis!

Recommended treatment: continue the bute, the hot soaks, and expressing what fluid I could, to relieve the pressure. He took a sample of the fluid to send out to be cultured, but in the meantime started her on the expensive powdered sulfa-based antibiotics (I forgot to ask for the much cheaper ones that I crush myself). When the lab results come back, we will know if a different drug would be more appropriate for this particular infection, but that could be anywhere from 3 to 10 days, and we didn't want to waste time waiting.

So Kate and I headed home.

First dose of drugs in half of her daily pound of grain (so we would have some to add to any leftovers in the bottom of the bucket). "Just mix it in" the vet had said. Yeah, right! Miss Piggy, who will eat absolutely anything, won't touch it. Even with applesauce and maple syrup (okay, maybe I overdid it--but that stuff's expensive, and I wanted to make sure she got it all). So she stays locked in the stall (a rarity in itself) while the rest of the girls get to go out to the pasture:

What a hissy fit she threw!

Eat your grain, Kate, and you can go out too.

No way, lady!

Well, you're staying in there until it's all gone. It's expensive, and it'll make you feel better.

I'll feel better if you let me out!

Goodbye, Kate. I have to go back to school and teach 5th graders how to solve problems.

I'm NOT eatin' it!

Goodbye, Kate. I'll see you at supper time.

When I got home, she still hadn't touched it, and was whining that she was starving. So I mixed another $6 dose into a paste of applesauce, put it in a big syringe, and shoved it down her throat. At least I tried. We ended up wearing about half of the dose (scrape it back into the syringe and try again). I let her out in the pasture for a couple of hours, then gave her a half-flake of hay and left her in the stall for the night. I figured the extra dose still in the grain bucket wouldn't hurt (maybe even jump start the treatment a bit), and it would be easier to give her a dose of bute in the morning before school if she was already in.

Tuesday and tonight, I didn't put the bute in the grain (syringe again), and she ate the antibiotics in her grain a little less reluctantly (nibbling it as I did chores, and gone by morning). General swelling is down, but the hard core seems only slightly less so--and more tender--she actually kicked out because I even approached her tender parts.
I checked with the vet's, but culture results weren't back yet.
I'll keep you posted.

Pretty in Purple

Misty and Maddie at two days old.
Maddie's registered name is Madrigal.

Zoey and Kate at 12 days old.
Kate's registered name is Canticle.

(BTW, Zoe is named for my mother, who likes duns/buckskins--"the ones with the dark legs and tan bodies." She gave me permission to name a horse after her, just not a pig--which is okay, 'cause I don't have any pigs.)

For the first few days, both mares and their fillies had their own pens, with access to a their foaling stalls. Everybody could see each other, and it was obvious that the babies wanted to play. So, when Maddie was three days old, and Kate was just hanging by the gate, I tried an experiment--I opened the gate and let Kate sneak in.

Now Misty had always bossed Zoe around, having been the mature one when we got baby Zoe. But I DIDN'T expect what happened next:

Rather than just move between Kate and her baby, Misty lunged, mouth gaping, for poor little Kate! Kate immediately ducked back for her mama, but Misty managed to grab Kate's hip and literally pick her up for a moment, before I could even hurl the manure bucket in my hand as HARD as I could to distract her.

Kate ended up with 16 pretty purple stitches!

A few weeks later when Kate managed to get a ginormous splinter of wood at the base of her ear, she officially earned the nickname "The Boo-Boo Baby" from the vet. (Incidently, her little sister Amy has since stolen that title. But that's another story....)