How does that saying go? The best laid plans of mice and men are oft to go astray.
Saturday evening I received an alarming call regarding Cricket. I was at my parent's house, celebrating my niece's first birthday. My cell started ringing but I chose to silence it so I could be fully present to the family festivities. As I gathered my belongings to head home, I decided to listen to the messages. Something was wrong with Cricket. My first thought, Oh please God let my baby be okay. All I really got was that she didn't want to move and she wasn't interested in her food. I grabbed my keys and my bag and dashed out the door.
Why the panic, you might wonder. Six years ago on a cold Saturday I received a call that my horse just wasn't feeling right and didn't want to eat. Two days later I was holding his head in my lap as the vet put him down. I cannot help but have flashbacks to loosing Moose.
I called my best friend Robin and she offered to meet me at the barn. It took an hour to get from my parent's house to the barn. The whole way, the tears were falling and I just prayed to God to keep my precious girl safe.
When I arrived, Robin had Cricket in the hallway and I could tell something was wrong. She just looked off. Ann, my friend who first called me, related the evenings events - Cricket's unwillingness to move and her lackluster attitude towards her dinner. Ann thought something was wrong with her hind end.
I felt all up her back legs and around her coronary bands on all four. I picked up a front foot and she did not want to put it back down. I asked her to walk and she tried to follow me but was very reluctant. She had halting, exaggerated movement on her back legs.
Ann's fear was something neurological. She had a call into my vet, deciding to call him when she couldn't reach me. I wasn't so sure. Another old saying: When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. This generally applies unless you are on an African safari and we weren't.
Cricket lost a shoe earlier last week and my farrier came out on Friday to pull the rest of her shoes. He trimmed her a little, despite it being several weeks ahead of schedule. I think he took her too short and she's sore on all four feet.
Robin and I watched her for about two hours, waiting for the vet to call. She was eating her hay and drinking a good amount of water. She pooped and it looked fairly normal. I decided to give her some bute and turn her out. I mixed up some pellets with bute, probiotic and electrolytes. She scarfed it down and was happy to wander out to the field. I finally spoke with my vet at about 10 pm and he agreed with my assessment. Sunday, Cricket seemed more herself but still tender footed.
So she will be off for at least a week as her feet heal and grow a little. I'll keep her on the bute so she is comfortable and willing to move.
I am a little disappointed that our next program is going to be delayed. More than anything, however, I'm relieved that my Principessa is, excepting her sore feet, just fine.