abscess · adventures with the vet

What the Vet Found

Apologies for the delay – the last few days have been very full and I have not felt much like self-discipline. See also, the frozen pizza I had for lunch.

So, the vet came out on Friday, and we got to work figuring out what the heck was going on with Tristan now. (As mentioned previously, he was lame with a badly stocked up RF leg.)

We walked him out and he was still lame, though not falling-down three-legged lame as he had been on Wednesday and Thursday. The vet had me walk him in some small circles, and then brought out the hoof testers. Immediate strong positive…right where we didn’t want it to be.

Next step, looking at the foot itself. The vet cleaned the bottom of the foot off, and then began carefully paring away at the toe. There was still a nasty defect at the white line from scar tissue; she cut that out and almost immediately saw a spiderweb of cracks underneath it.

I was super nervous about cutting away that foot that we worked so hard to grow, but she was being incredibly careful. She’d cut just a little bit, then clean it out. She went back to her truck and got a dremel to keep the edges smooth and pare just a tiny bit at a time. She followed her instincts about where to trim, and slowly but surely the cracks faded out until there was one, and then with one last tiny paring – pus welled up.
Abscess. Again. Some more.
I was a bit discouraged, I admit. The vet, even though she’d expected it, was somewhat resigned. We talked options. I brought up the idea of a regional perfusion of the limb, ie, get whatever is in there the hell out NOW. She got what I was saying but said that she felt that was too aggressive right now, and was really very painful for the horse.
We kept talking while she got out her equipment to x-ray, because of course. That foot, seriously. We couldn’t take any chances.
Thank God, the x-rays came up clean. In fact, the coffin bone looks pretty darn good. I’ll put them up here in another day or two when I pull them from the flash drive. You can see the abscess drainage hole, but it’s tiny.
Vet used a needle to get betadine way up into the crack, and then did a final cleaning up with the dremel.
If you click on this photo, you’ll get a blown up version. Look within the pink of the sole, that’s within the betadine stain. Now look just off center, to the left: there is a tiny black pinprick. That’s the drainage hole.
If we can keep this draining freely, and keep it clean, we should be ok. Tris is on sulfa antibiotics for a week to be neurotic, and I am poulticing every day for a week with sugardine, then wrapping the foot for 3 weeks after that.
ready for battle.
It’s been a few days, and a few things are evident. First, he and I remember our foot-wrapping dance very well. After one brief heated discussion, he’s stood patiently and quietly, and my hands have remembered the motions. Second, he’s practically sound again, thankfully. We seem to be on the right track.
So, I am obviously bummed that this is another setback, that it’s still related to that initial disaster in his foot (2.5 years and counting!), and that I can’t ride and get him legged up and back on track for the spring like I’d planned.
But I am glad it’s not what it could’ve been. His leg was so hot and fat I was worried he had done something truly dire to a tendon or ligament.
Just wrapping. I can wrap. And waiting. I’m getting pretty good at that, too.
adventures with the vet

Does my Coggins photo make me look like a donkey?

Yes. Yes it does, Tristan.

Or maybe more accurately like some bastardized poorly conformed zonkey. Who even knows. At least his face is still cute. Good grief.
I’ve never had a Coggins with actual photos before. I think I prefer the elegance of that basic outline with all the little squiggles and doodles on it as vets attempted to show his freezebrand and roaning.

Maybe Coggins photos are like the passport photos of the horse world.

abscess · adventures with the vet

Frying pan, meet fire

So, as I mentioned yesterday, the barn manager let me know that Tris came in from turnout with his RF fetlock swollen again and quite lame.

Last night at midnight, after getting back from my 15 hour workday with a program in another part of the state, I checked on him.

RF was swollen and hot from fetlock to knee. No definition to the tendon sheath. Three-legged lame.

Fuck. Everything.

I paced, and checked it again, and paced some more, and finally left the barn. I couldn’t cold hose, since it was still going to be below freezing overnight and the hoses wouldn’t run. I didn’t have ice, and it was midnight – I couldn’t get any. I thought briefly about liniment, but that felt like flicking drops at a fire, and I didn’t have any Sore No More – only Absorbine, which I kind of hate.

While I was driving home, I formed a plan that I carried out this morning. After about 5.5 hours of sleep, I returned to the barn. I stopped for iced coffee and a bag of ice on the way, and when I got to the barn filled a gallon bag with ice, added a little water, and wrapped it on to his leg with a snug polo wrap.

He was turning up his nose at his grain – he really hates his new bute – but chowing down his hay and happy and cheerful otherwise. I was struck by how much his leg looked like it did back when he had his first abscess. You know, the one that started the year of misery and vet bills and surgery and rehab.

On the one hand, of all the personal nightmares I do not want to revisit, that one is pretty high on the list.

On the other hand: if it isn’t an abscess, there is something very, very wrong going on in his fetlock. That has all sorts of possibilities that I don’t want to think about right now.

The silver lining is that I am so maxed out on stress with the house and work that while I am worried and upset and stressed about this, I am not quite freaking out. Yet.

Barn manager, who I am nominating for sainthood as soon as I can figure out the paperwork, is negotiating with the vet right now for an appointment today or tomorrow for Tris as well as another horse in the barn. She’ll pull and periodically re-ice through the day today, and I left it up to her discretion whether to put him in standing wraps otherwise.

Onward, I guess. I just wish I knew where.

adventures with the vet

Aaaaaand here we go again

By what black magic do horses know that you have just – just, as in, within the last 24 hours – finally achieved your modest, short-term goal for their emergency fund?

Tristan’s fetlock is blown up again and he’s lame on it. Lameness vet will be out by the end of the week. He’s on stall rest + bute until further notice.

SO CLOSE.

adventures with the vet · puppy

Arya’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Last week Arya threw up once or twice. She’s a dog who eats many stupid things, and she was acting 100% normally other than that. We registered concern but didn’t take it to heart.

Tuesday night, she threw up again, so I gave her a handful or two of rice for dinner instead. Then Wednesday morning, I woke up to her snuggled next to me with her stomach rumbling so loudly I could hear it clearly. I gave her a very little bit more rice and took a shower.
When I got out of the shower she clung to me like glue, and then put herself into her LL Bean bed – which she likes very much, but rarely uses when we are doing things. She snuggled up and looked generally pathetic, and then she started shivering, hard.
Snuggled up and miserable.
I piled a blanket on her and turned the heat way up and sat with her. She did slow down her shivering after about 15 minutes, but did not look any less miserable. I checked in with the vet before she finished shivering, and they had a 9:30 am appointment. I called work and they could cover without me, so I took the appointment.
I gave the vet her history, and the vet had already pulled her file and noticed she was an idiot dog who had already been a Dog of Concern a few times for eating random stupid things. Her vitals checked out okay, but she was clearly too quiet, miserable, and started shivering again on the exam table. The vet thought that the shivering wasn’t cold, but pain and anxiety.
Way way way calmer than usual at the vet.
The vet said, “If she were my dog, I’d get her x-rayed.” I swallowed back bile, sighed, and said, “Well, then, let’s do that.” The vet tech took her down to the exam room, and they gave her a mild sedative and took some x-rays.
When the vet called me in to talk about them, she pointed out that the colon and intestines looked fine, but there was an area of distension on her stomach that should not be there. The vet thought that there was a blockage – possibly some cloth, as it wasn’t showing up clearly on the x-ray. She confessed to not being an expert at reading the x-rays, and wanted to send it out to a specialty radiologist. We’d hear by noon.
So I left the office with a very wobbly and sad puppy as well as two cans of prescription bland diet wet food. My instructions were to give her about a tablespoon every hour, and to call back about 1:00 pm. If the radiologist agreed with the vet, or if she reacted badly in any way to the food, she would have to go back for a second set of x-rays with barium tracer, to see if her digestive system was working at all.
I had carry her up our steps and place her on the couch, she was so out of it from the sedative. She just flopped on the couch in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. I straightened her out and sat down next to her to keep an eye on her. I had to coax her off the couch for her first little bit of food. She lapped it, turned to stare sadly at me, lapped it again, sighed deeply, and finally ate it. Then back to the couch. She was not enthused about her second feeding either, but she wasn’t in any more pain.
When I called the vet, she said that the radiologist actually wasn’t concerned. He saw the distension but thought it was sort of normal/generalized GI distress. She clearly wasn’t quite right, but it didn’t look like she was going to have to have a second set of x-rays or, God forbid, surgery.
So we set a second check-in time for later in the afternoon, and I kept giving her small bits of the bland food. She started getting up from the couch on her own to take drinks of water, and asked to go out. She peed quite a bit and while she still wasn’t her usual self, she wanted to walk around the yard for a bit and sniff things, and she took a long hard stare into a neighbor’s yard.
I canceled an afternoon hair appointment, drove in to work briefly to pick up my computer, and stayed beside her on the couch. She slowly, slowly improved and by about 4:00 pm she got up of her own volition and laid in front of the heater, which is one of her preferred spots in the apartment. She also started getting excited for her little bits of food.
When my fiance got home at 5:30, she was excited enough to get up and look out the window, and jumped around a little bit with him, then snuggled back on the couch.
I’m writing this around 7:30 pm on that same night, and just a few minutes ago she jumped off the couch to chase the cat. It seems like she’ll be just fine. The fiance is staying home with her tomorrow to keep an eye, just in case, but hopefully she just had a weird bout of GI distress and will be just fine going forward.
adventures with the vet · winter

Idiot Horse Update

After 48 hours of bute and two applications of liniment, Tristan’s weird stomach swelling is down significantly. Not gone yet – at least not when I checked right before I left for Maine – but way better. Whew.

I didn’t have time to put him on the longe but I am not as worried – he can have a few more days to rest and I will check him on Friday when I get back.
In the meantime, wtf, Wednesday night?! Uggggghhh.

adventures with the vet

What Fresh Hell Is This

I swear to you all, until about three years ago Tristan was the hardiest, thriftiest horse in the barn. Sigh.

Anyway. Arrived at the barn Friday afternoon, having left work early on account of being sick as a dog and leaking phlegm from nearly every orifice. I resolved to pull his blanket and give him a good grooming, write my board check and head home.

I reached under to curry his stomach and – what?

I discovered a hard swelling on his right side, a few inches up from his midline, maybe 8″ long and 5″ wide. Irregular edges. No heat that I could tell. Not an edema – it was not soft or pitting. Felt like ropey muscle. No clear cut or abrasion.

Utterly stumped, I asked the barn manager to put her hands on him. She was stumped. We asked one of the barn owners to put hands on him. She was stumped.

My best attempt at a picture – you can just barely see the swelling. This is taken from his left side.

WHAT THE HELL, HORSE.

We put him on the longe line, and he looked fine at the walk but was short at the trot through his right side: like he didn’t want to stretch his stride out and involve his stomach muscles on that side.

We tossed ideas back and forth and our absolute best guess was that late on Thursday, Tris had been turned out in the indoor with baby Jovi, the coming yearling that he babysits. They go out in a relatively small drylot together, and the idea was to get them both to stretch their legs and to let Jovi get a little feisty and then let Tristan teach him about appropriate boundaries even when you’re excited. Apparently they both had a terrific time, and Tristan demonstrated some very energetic and athletic airs above ground.

So, we thought perhaps he had pulled a stomach muscle doing that, and there was some resultant swelling. He got buted Friday night and Saturday morning, and when I checked on him Saturday night, there was no clear change, so some more bute. I’ll head out and check on him this afternoon, and we’ll see what we see.

Trip to the barn Saturday night. Picture does not quite adequately convey how hard it was snowing, or how much I looooooove my new 4WD + studded snow tires.

The internet suggests many other things it might be, but the vast majority of those things require the swelling to be an edema, which this most definitely is not. The only other outside possibility is a large abscess from a cut or embedded object of some kind, but wow, that would have to have blown up FAST. It’s totally in the wrong place for pigeon fever, and he is acting 100% normally otherwise.

I suppose it works out, timing-wise – I am headed to Maine for most of the rest of the week to arrange wedding stuff, so he was either going to get time off or give trail rides to the working students (which they love and he’s good at). He can get a week off. If there’s no change or if it gets worse, pony earns himself another vet visit.

So much for putting the saddle back on and starting more intensive work…

adventures with the vet

My horse never does anything halfway

As promised, an update.

I scrubbed away at his cheek with betadine + hot water, and got the scabs off pretty easily. To me, it looks like a cluster of bug bites, like something got stuck under his fly mask and nailed him a couple of times, then he rubbed it hard while itching. Barn manager thinks scrapes. We are both agreed that it looks ugly but not serious. He got Alushield on it and the BM will keep an eye on him.
Before

After
adventures with the vet · endomondo

Never ever dull

When I stopped at the barn to check on Tristan last night, the barn manager checked in with me and said she’s more worried about the scab on his cheek than I am – she pointed out that if he’s gotten a burdock stem or something in there it won’t heal. She made a good point, so I agreed to meet her first thing the following morning to scrub it down, pull the scab off, and take a good close look.

I put the puppy in the car, slathered Tris’s cheek with Corona, and then returned to find the puppy had freaked out and puked over every inch of the driver’s side of my shiny new car. Every. Goddamn. Inch. Cue 45 minutes of shampooing, scrubbing, and vacuuming.
So here I am this morning, waiting for the barn manager. I’ve got a bucket of hot water + betadine, gauze, and Alushield. Just waiting and futzing around online.
Oh, and I realized I never shared the Endomondo record of the ride on Sunday. So here you go. Will report back this afternoon on my idiot horse.