Becoming Brave
No. 6
To Save a Life
It was my third ride.
We made the twenty-five minute drive once a day to feed Bo, clean his stall, brush him down - all the things. Those were beautiful days. The radio in the barn was always playing and the anthem that marks my memory is Taylor Swift's "Ours". [Even today if I hear it it takes me right back to that aisle.] I'd taken all the [blurry] pictures I could on my Mom's little silver point-and-shoot camera.
I was finally having a lesson on my new horse and what would happen but he comes up lame. "I'm sorry, Sarah, you'll have to get off. We'll have someone check him out."
It just so happened we had an acupuncturist at the barn who could fit him in her schedule. She did her thing but Bo still seemed to be getting worse.
Next we tagged on to a chiropractor appointment. He did wonders for Bo, you could literally see him melt into relaxation. His back felt amazing. But he was still lame. And the total assessment was his hip was bothering him, he had a pulled muscle.
Over the next few days we messaged his hip with liniment, applied hot and cold packs - we tried everything we could think of.
This is a sad picture of my sweet, poor boy and a hot pack on his sore hip. [... And his amazing rainbow lead and braid job.] Not flattering.
But he only got worse.
Bo proved his weight in gold. He never snipped at me as I dug in my thumbs, never pinned his ears in anger. He took it. I almost wish he hadn't. But he was gentle with his new little girl.
It can be difficult to know when a horse needs a vet, especially if they mask their pain and you're under the impression messages and hot pads will help. But it became clear that was the next step.
My eyes watched intently as the young vet shaved his hip, revealing a long scar from a past injury we knew nothing about. And as the syringe went in he started pulling CC's full of puss out of my boy's hip. "This horse has an abscess."
"In his hip?" my Mom asked. "Isn't that an unusual place for one?"
After some questioning they determined it was likely a dirty shot given prior to selling him and sending him to a new barn. The vet frowned, and the puss just kept coming.
And coming.
And coming.
Finally I turned away in anger, unable to watch. A dirty shot? Who on earth thought the hip bone was a stellar place for a shot? And where had that scar come from? His history said nothing of a serious injury.
As he kept pulling puss the vet frowned even deeper and explained it was about the size of a small melon. "I know one thing," he continued, "I've only seen one horse with an abscess worse than this. And he didn't make it."
I was twelve years old, just beginning to fall in love for the first time. ... (If you don't count my best friend when I was four or Han Solo. On a lighter note.) And already he was slipping away from me.
Hot tears ran down my face. "We need to get him in for surgery," they said.
"It's okay, Bo. You're going to be okay," I whisper, a little shaky, not at all sure.
(Shout out to Ron Barker. Even though it did nothing for the abscess issue, he was so incredibly amazing working on Bo's back. We're so grateful. Bo's back pain melted away. Best horse chiropractor ever.)
Love, Sarah
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