No fracture but a big hot spot on a wither bone. Saw the picture myself. She’s still running a fever, so she’s going on antimicrobials for a couple of weeks in steadily decreasing amounts to see how she does. Also still on bute. Prognosis for life: Good. Prognosis as a sport horse: Not so good. I’m not very sporty either so maybe we’ll be at the same level of inactivity when she’s well? I don’t know. So often I do not understand what people are saying to me. I look like I understand and I think I understand, but I don’t.
It took an hour and a half to load Gabby on the trailer and I was terrified the whole time, terrified that she would break free and kick someone to death or run over the top of him or her. OK. Terrified that she would break free and kick me to death and then run over the top of me. The sight of a rearing horse, a horse sliding down a loading ramp, or a kicking horse gives me the complete willies. She seems like a monster to me instead of just a horse. She seems as large as Sampson, like she could break the pillars of her jailor’s feast hall and bring down the roof on all of our heads.
The hospital staff and Dennis did all the work of getting her on and I stayed out of the way. Well out of the way. I could see from where I stood but I realized I was hiding behind people. I’m too much of a coward to be ashamed.
The method that finally worked was for Dennis to hold onto her halter while two vet school docs stood behind and to either side and kept tapping her on the butt with longe whips until she couldn’t stand it anymore and went inside the trailer. Dennis said, “Are you going to follow me out to the farm?” and I said, “I’m going home.” And I did. I’m at home, roasting peppers for a nice little vegetable terrine. I saw her today, fed her some carrots, looked at her scans and x-rays, paid the bill, fed her more carrots, and I’ll go out tomorrow to see her.
People can tell that I’m not very experienced (when I told the farrier that Gabby was my first horse, he looked as though he would say “duh” but God bless him, he didn’t) and one of the vets was joking with me about that, asked me how experienced I was, etc. And I guess a school horse is supposed to load well, which Gabby does not do.
I keep hearing more stuff that undercuts my confidence.