Fucking Fuckity Fuck Fuck

Alternate Title: Not sure if I'm going to lose weight because I'm so tightly wound I feel like puking all the time, or if I'm going to gain ten thousands pounds from stress eating candy nonstop.

But clearly too long for a title, so there you are.

"hai, i love cookies and making everyone
SUPER CONFUSED about how i'm still alive!"

Saturday morning I was out and about at the barn helping set up for the next day's hunter pace when the barn worker texted me that Bobby looked more lame than usual and did I want him to go outside. I scurried back inside to take a look for myself. Everyone at the barn is pretty familiar with Bobby's various stages of "What in the actual fuck is going on with your leg/foot? Oh well, just look the other way!" so I knew he actually had to be lame lame for her to ask. Sure enough he was gimpy as fuck on the RF, but looked perky otherwise so I tossed him out.

On Sunday he looked about the same, but I gave him some bute after body clipping him anyway. Then I drove home and had a crying panic attack that I was going to come out Monday to see my horse covered in weeping sores from generalized sarcoidosis because when Cornell shaved his leg to ultrasound it, it set it off again.

Spoiler Alert: Didn't happen. His coat looks just as lovely as before, it's just not causing him heat stroke any longer.

except when we do intense rollies and get it filthy

He looked a little ouchy still on Monday, but nothing to be concerned about as Farrier was coming out today to do him anyway.

When I went to feed him breakfast Tuesday, he stood still in the middle of his stall on an island of shavings he'd pushed together before slowly shuffling over to his bucket to eat. I gave him the hairy eye and quickly finished up graining everyone else before investigating further.

I keep my emotions pretty in check when it comes to Bobby's various lameness cycles--at least while I'm at the barn. (I do a lot of crying in my car.) I'm more the type of person to dive in and tackle an emergency calmly head on and then freak the fuck out about it later. On Tuesday I pulled the Back on Track wrap off (Generously donated by Archie!), didn't see anything out of the ordinary on Bobby's ever swollen-ish leg, and moved on to his foot.

I check his feet every day for signs of heat from laminitis or cold from detachment--both things we're constantly concerned about. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, so I picked it up and dug around. Once his foot was clean, I looked at it from one direction. Then another. Then from over there, and over here. I tried to get some pictures of what I thought I might be seeing and sent them to Farrier--at seven in the morning because I'm that client.

"Not to be an alarmist, but I think I'm seeing some sinking of the sole on the right side of Bobby's foot. Should I be being an alarmist about this?"

And then I went into full alarmist mode anyway because what the fuck do I know about how to treat a horse that might be foundering? NOTHING. I KNOW NOTHING.

fucking coronary band getting worse by the day and no one knows whyyyy

Farrier texted me back right away because that's the type of farrier she is and told me to slow down the alarmist bells. Was his foot hot? No. Was he standing tucked under himself? No, but he doesn't want to move in his stall and is awfully fucking shifty. Was the sole actually soft and sinking or was I just imagining things? ...I don't know, I could just be imagining things.

She suggested it could just be an abscess, but since she was going to be out first thing the next day she thought he'd be okay to wait. I went full on founder protocol anyway. I iced, I packed his foot, MOAR ICE, MOAR PACKING, BM bedded his stall to his eye balls, I gave him bute, and we cancelled his grain dinner.

By late afternoon he was still lame, but he was able to walk down the aisle to the wash stall without any resistance or trouble. With that much improvement, I didn't call the vet and updated Farrier that he was looking better.

barn cat here for your moral support needs. snuggles R free.

This morning he didn't look great in his stall again, but he was more mobile than the morning before. Farrier arrived bright and early and went right in his stall to begin poking around herself. She didn't feel any heat either and wasn't too concerned with the sole. She didn't think we were dealing with a laminitic episode quite yet and still thought abscess was the best bet....but the abscess was likely an off shoot of something going very wrong inside the foot and not just some foreign object causing discomfort.

Shoes off, there was no sign of separation, and he was willing to put full weight on it. Farrier looked at it some more before asking if I would be okay if she brought someone else in to take a look because she was out of ideas. Um, yes, duh. Someone please just make my horse sound. She cut him a pad from 4" thick foam and taped it on until Other Farrier could come out in the next day or two. His LF heels were starting to contract a bit from the wedge on that foot (Oh yeah, remember how he has navicular too?) so she tacked a flat aluminum shoe on and moved on to trim his hinds.

duct tape and foam. hmm, i could be a farrier if
it were this easy!

When she was out last week working on other horses, she asked how Bobby was doing and I was like, "LOLZ, I think he's starting to go neurological actually." And there was much LOLing because why not just add something else catastrophic to Bobby's list of medical marvels?

But I was only kind of kidding.

While warming up, whenever he'd circle his hind end would disappear for a step before he caught himself. Once he was warmed up and collected it wasn't an issue. He could circle and do all the lateral work without any problems, so I didn't give it much credence. Maybe he was just stiff, or sore, or needed another chiro visit. Bobby's stifles have always been a big weakness on him, although this felt more overall hind end than his usual stifle problems.

Turning in the aisle has never been something he does gracefully--something Vet knows to ignore because it's just him--so I didn't see anything there to raise alarm bells. Only now in his stall I was starting to see him pull his leg across to itch his face on it and leave it crossed.

When Farrier went to ask him to step aside to center back in the aisle, he didn't budge at first so she gave him a push on his haunches. His hind leg crossed over and he nearly fell down before managing to get his legs sorted out and catch himself. Farrier froze and stared at me.

I must have looked as awesome as I felt because she quickly joked, "No, he's fine, Carly! He's not neuro! He's not going to founder! That right foot is just fine! Everything is fine with him!"

is his leg eating his foot or his foot eating his leg?

Since the initial diagnosis in May, it's always been a matter of when and not if we were going to have to put him down. Bobby has been doing his best to turn back every new malady that his freaky body can come up with, but it was clear pretty early on that eventually that foot was not going to hold out.

Farrier said she'd try to get him through laminitis when it comes--and it will come--if that's what I wanted, but pointed out that there wasn't going to be any hope on the other side if he made it through. He'd still have sarcoidosis. He'd still have navicular. He'd still have this crazy coronary band set to detach at any time. He could be neurological. He could founder again.

It doesn't matter. I won't let him go through that. If we can't get him sound in short order, Bobby's time has come. I'm not ready. I'm never going to be ready. That won't stop me from making the right choice for my horse to repay him for everything he's given me.

forever the nosiest, most personable and obnoxious horse