Apologies for the cryptic post yesterday [CAST!]. On Saturday morning, Hubby was greeted by Mathilda flat out on her side. He’d heard her kicking at the stall, so he knew she was awake. She has rolled over and gotten herself stuck. In hindsight, it only took a few minutes and some maneuvering to get her back on her feet.
Deep Back Story
Many years ago, a horse at the barn at which I boarded got himself cast. He was rolled over on his back with his legs up against the wall. Every helpful, I jumped in and gave his hooves a yank. Whereupon he flopped onto his side & heaved to his feet. Easy-peasey. Except that as soon as felt the first breath of freedom, he flailed wildly with his hooves, clocking me in the head. Note to self, next time avoid the feet.
A few weeks ago, Mathilda lay down to roll and had trouble getting up. Since seeing her stuck on the ground had been our fear since her injury, I descended immediately into screaming hysterics. I did everything to get her up immediately. Now. Right away. The sort of urgency you bring to preventing a colicking horse from rolling. I made it infinitely worse. She staggered 3/4 of the way up, collapsed, fell, and rolled. It was horrible. It was also fortuitous. She ended up pointed across the hill instead of up it & used the terrain to hop to her feet. Note to self, next time panic more slowly.
Back to Our Story
So on Saturday, Hubby comes down the path yelling my name in that tone of voice you do not want to hear. He said, “We have a problem*.” Which isn’t nearly so funny when you really do have a problem.
Mathilda wasn’t classically cast. She was lying on her left side, with plenty of room for her legs. However, that is her weak side. So she couldn’t get up nor roll back over. We took a collective deep breath (see note 2), thought about the situation, and decided to roll her over, with Hubby using a rope (see note 1) around her hind legs with me pushing on her fronts. Unfortunately, this resulted in her wedged up against another wall. More not panicking. We tried banging down one of the walls. Understandably, the incredibly noise caused her to fuss and shift about. That’s out. The shifting brought her more into the center of the stall. The tow rope around her front end & a hefty heave by hubby got her aligned and able to roll up into meatloaf position. With the help of more time & a hay bale, she rose gracefully to her feet. End of acute crisis, beginning of decompression and renovation.
First order of business was where to put her. She is not cleared for the pasture & no way was she going back in the stall. If she had another problem, we wanted lots of room to maneuver. My handy, wonderful, hard-working, in-house carpenter spent the rest of the day building sturdy but movable barriers to block the two entrances to the run in-shed. Mathilda now has the space of fours stalls to move around in.
Although it was not the way I would have wished to arrive at the solution, turns out to be a darn good one. The pen area gives her room to move, thereby exercising her joints/muscles/mind without the risk of her tearing around the field on three legs refusing to be caught.
The crisis itself was quite short. The adrenaline poisoning took a day and 1/2 to wear off.
[BTW, a deliberate misquote according to Wiki: Apollo 13: Popular Culture.]
Ever had a cast horse?