Bar is re-shoed

Having heard (and witnessed) the horror stories around abscesses, I was fully prepared to go several weeks soaking Bar's foot, applying the foul-smelling Ichthammol, and watching him limp around while battling my guilt.

As it turns out, he is as good at being laid up as I am. My friend Joan pointed out that an injured animal is a target for predators, which probably explains the stoic nature of hurt horses as well as the quickness of recovery.

When I got to the barn last night, he was moving very comfortably all the way around. I probably would have left the boot on, but it had worn through at the toe so Katie helped me re-wrap the whole thing.

He was so comfortable, as a matter of fact, that when I called Mike today to report in, Mike decided he would swing by and put the shoe back on. There is the risk of the abscess simply drawing back in and finding another path, but we'll just keep an eye on him and see how it goes.

At the moment, he seems to be sound, happy, and bouncing off the walls. Steve reported that the energy level appears to be normal and suggested I might want to get out to the barn tomorrow to work the big brown bundle of cooped-up Thoroughbred before Bar launches himself into space.

Which is exactly what I intend to do. I even spent an extra 45 minutes tonight clearing out my email inbox so I could escape on time tomorrow to get the boy out. And moving. And probably bucking and farting, for that matter.

We both need it.