Lena anniversary

In all the time we've owned Lena, I don't think I've ever forgotten to celebrate the anniversary of her coming into our lives.

Only I did this year!

What a bad horse mommy.

Not only was August 1st the 5-year anniversary of her coming into our lives, the 15th was the 5-year anniversary of us nearly losing her to colic.

Since her last bout, we've succeeded in getting her out more and I've been able to do some acupressure on her on a fairly regular basis.

Call me crazy, but she seems calmer--both when eating (less frenzied swooshing of grain in her bucket) and in general. Out on the trail, she was curious and alert, but went up and down hills, over bridges, and past several things that normally make her leap sideways and snort.

She has been a wonderful, beautiful, spotty teacher and giving back some level of serenity to her seems like the least I can do. Thank you, Lena Rey!

Lena and a colic scare

Lena is a nervous, stressy mare. Especially--particularly, actually--at feeding time. She paces, gets agitated, then bolts her grain as if she's been deprived for months.

She is also a dramatic and expressive mare, making it easy to spot--pun intended--when something isn't quite right.

The other night, she started out okay, then started acting a little funny, and I left the barn with Steve walking a spotty mare who wanted to drop down and roll in the driveway. I had a hard time leaving but over-worrying wouldn't help so I headed home.

I waited for Steve, trying not to pace or fuss myself too much. Then our friend Manna called from the barn and I knew things had not gotten better. She asked if I'd gotten the message to call the vet.

I hadn't. I did. And pointed the car back to the barn.

Dr. Leslie made it there before me because I stopped to make Steve a sandwich, grab books and jackets, then got stuck behind a lumber truck. REALLY? NOW??!! Augh!!

A little history. Two weeks after Lena came to live with us (five years ago on August 1st), she colicked so badly we were faced with putting her down. So when the spotty mare acts like her belly hurts, it creates a small panic in her momma, too.

Long story short, heart rate was fine, capillary response time (CPT) was fine, and with some Banamine, the gut relaxed enough to make noises and get Lena interested in eating again. I might also mention that Lena was moving into her heat cycle, and that has been one of the common denominators in the colic routine.

Leslie's verdict is that Lena's cycle helps set it off. Peter let us know that not only does it happen fairly frequently--though usually not as bad as this bout--it always happens at the evening feed. They only (and we only) grain in the evening. She inhales grain like a big, spotty vacuum.

Treatment? Rocks in the grain bucket to slow her down and Banamine at the beginning of her cycle.

Lesson? Lena colics mildly fairly frequently according to Peter--he calls it stress colic. I myself have walked her when she seems off and had her relax and settle into herself, with a soft look in her eye and good, grumbly gut noises. Would she have worked through it like she seemingly does normally if we hadn't hovered? Maybe. Could it be she just wanted attention? Also a possibility with The Spotty Princess.

Only time (and recent experience) will tell.

Happy Birthday to Calabar!

Happy Birthday to Calabar!
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

He's ten today and seems strong and healthy and happy, though he tried to give me a tiny colic scare tonight.

It seems to have passed (pun intended) and he seems like his normal
feisty self. He even fussed at Romeo like usual.

Happy birthday, big, brown, snuggly horse!

Lena Update and Las Vegas

I'm back in Las Vegas again, only this time it's for Photoshop World instead of Paint Vegas.

Lena is doing fine, feeling feisty and acting her normal carrot-hungry self. I made sure I stopped by the barn this morning to tell them both good-bye and get one last horse fix before I left. And, yes, to listen to Lena's belly and check the manure pile in her pen. All is well by what I can tell from those two things--and her attitude, of course.

I can never decide for sure if leaving her alone is the best thing, but I'm pretty sure transmitting my own worries and fears in a loud emotional broadcast isn't going to help her heal.

On the Bar side of the paddock wall, he and I had a great ride yesterday in the indoor arena, playing with obstacles and (gasp!) cantering! Yes, I finally just did it and it felt pretty darn good. It was too hot to do a lot of work, and I didn't have a lot of time, but we had fun and I didn't hit the ground! Woo! He likes it when he knows he did a good job, and I like it that I'm working through my nervousness because he is so darn fun to ride when I'm not a big stress ball.

So to reward him, I chased him around with the camera this morning. Poor guy, he sure puts up with a lot from me--including my Farmer John coveralls. (They hold lots of carrots, though.)

Colic scare

There is nothing in the world (probably) that horse owners want to hear less when they pick up the phone than "Your horse is colicing." Because our first bout with Lena was so bad and so terrifying, we may be extra sensitive to that phrase. (Very long and scary story short, we thought we were going to lose her to colic two weeks after we got her back in August of 2005.)

So when Peter called us last night and said Lena was laying down and colicing, we got right in the car and headed to the barn. We left my daughter Katie here with her dog, Jake, promising to call and let her know what as going on. I also called in and left a message for our vet, just in case. (Lena has had a couple of small bouts of colic that did not require nose tubes and Banamine, so I didn't want to declare an emergency if it wasn't required.)

We drove silently, trapped behind holiday drivers who were either completely lost or had perhaps imbibed a bit too much before getting in their car. For once I wished for slightly more reckless driving from the tourists in front of us.

As we pulled into the driveway at Peter's, I looked up at Lena's pen and could see her in a cloud of dust, looking as if she had just stood up. That was the first good sign. The second good sign was that there was fresh manure in her pen, and we'd cleaned it once already that morning.

We noticed immediately that she was definitly a little bit "off." When Lena gets snuggly it means she isn't feeling great, and she was super snuggly. Steve cleaned out her pen and I walked her around the property, talking softly and hitting some accupressure points when she would let me. Mainly, she wanted to walk, so we did, around the barns, and down the road. I even got her to trot with me, and when she started tossing her head, I started to think she would be okay.

Her gut was making good noises--we both checked--and her temperature felt fine, so after we took all the hay out of her paddock, we decided we'd done all we knew to do and left, telling Peter to call if he noticed a change.

I stayed up until midnight, but no call came, and we hadn't heard anything by the time we headed out at 11 this morning--me to the barn, Steve to our storage unit to start cleaning it out.

Lena was definitely feeling better when I got there, looking for treats and perhaps a bit miffed at missing a meal, but much more her normal self. Peter told me she'd had her breakfast and suggested we ride her. Relieved that she seemed better, I promised we'd be back after we finished clearing out storage. (Bleh.)

We had lunch and headed back to the barn with Katie and Jake. We cleaned the pens (again) and Steve rode Lena while I longed Bar. Steve said she wanted to run, but was controlled and cooperative, too. We walked them down the road and then I gave her a bath. She was beautiful and spotty, and seemed to be fine, nuzzling pockets for stray carrots and dipping her nose to check out Jake, too.

We'll probably never know for certain what sets her off, which is frustrating. I'm just glad we're close enough to show up when she needs us and very thankful that this time turned out okay.