Tricksters and Horses

Photo copyright Aji, 2016; all rights reserved.

The first of the aspens budded out today. We may not have cats, but we have catkins early this year. We also have pollen. Which means I took a fraction of a pred this afternoon so that I could breathe around the asthmatic effects.

It's been . . . a day. Last Thursday, we got a call from our horse vet, wondering where we were; she'd sent me an e-mail that I didn't get, scheduling a dental appointment for all four horses. This connectivity issue was supposed to be resolved back in October, when we were supposed to be able to switch to the other ISP's new FIOS; the wires were installed a year ago. But no; now they're telling us that it will be at least two more years, despite the fact that down the road three-tenths of a mile, they've had it for months. Yes, where the rich folks live.

Anyway, she rescheduled for today. Four horses, two of whom are rocking boots for foot problems, and the other two of whom are rescues with equine PTSD who have never in their roughly fifteen years of life had dental work.

We did Miskwaki first, although Wings got a halter on Ice first thing this morning, because he's damn near impossible to catch. He hates halters, anything anywhere near his mouth; I think he was gelded without sedation, and the people who did it cranked on the bit so hard that it traumatized him permanently.

At any rate, Miskwaki: Wolf teeth, yes, but more than that, on the lower right, the next to the last molar was mutant-sized and horribly misshapen, raised high and curving inward toward his tongue. It also created a gap between it and the last molar, with the predictable result that some food was getting caught, and causing infection. Which might explain his recent tendencies to hassle the others.

He also has some "excursion" issues: That's the degree to which their jaws move freely from side to side as they're chewing. One direction is fine; the other, somewhat limited. Turns out that he has some damage to the TMJ, probably through trauma rather than genetics, and that explains why his face looks so asymmetrical. He also has diminished muscle mass there. We're pretty damn sure we know how (and when) that occurred, too. Glad he's safe with us now.

If you've never seen a horse getting its teeth floated (which is essentially just a term for filing them down where they should be with a power grinder, something that, in the natural order of things, would occur every two years or so), it's rather intimidating. The horse has to be sedated, of course, but I still needed to be there to help hold each one, despite the presence of not one but two specialized halter contraptions that go around face and neck, with the lead strung through a jump ring in the stall roof. The first has a padded curve for the horse's neck; the second has a bit attached that is designed to hold the horse's mouth forcibly open, and looks like a medieval torture device. Miskwaki wasn't pleased, but he handled it well, and he took the longest of the bunch. Because of the fact that neither had ever had this done, he and Ice will both need floating done on a yearly basis for a few more years, to bring their teeth slowly in line with the correct height for proper chewing and prevention of injury and infection.

Next, Ice, and he was even less happy. He needed a second dose of drugs, as we suspected he would, and the poor guy wound up positively sway-backed and splay-legged , with his hindquarters trying to turn to rubber underneath him. The good news is that, but for the extra length, and a pair of seriously sharp lower incisors, he was in pretty good shape, and it went fast. He also has perfect excursion. For a horse who shouldn't be here (the sand colic should have killed him), he's in pretty damn good shape.

Shade was third, and she's a troll and a brat at the best of times, so even though she knows the drill, she decided that today was going to be the day for rebellion. She hates needles, and it took a couple of tries to get the hypo into her, and she still kept tossing her head and refusing the halter. Not, you understand, because she was freaked, but because she genuinely enjoys being difficult. She got done fast, though, and she's fine. (Although it looks like we have a second laminitic horse now; we trimmed her the other day, and found a massive abscess and evidence of probable early rotation. She's Cree's daughter, all right.) 

Finally, Cree. Ol' girl practically ran on the lead over to the stall. She's in great shape tooth-wise, and we got her done in record time; ain't nothin' about it that bothers her any. The really good news is her obvious lack of pain and equally obvious mobility now.

The three dogs were due for their 3-year rabies vaxes next month, so she took care of them today, too.

Oh, and did I mention that this was all in howling 25-mph winds? Fortunately, we did each horse in the small stall, which kept us out of the worst of it.

Then it was all the rest of it. 

While I was out burning cedar early this morning, The largest, fattest, sleekest coyote I've ever seen in my life —  truly and very literally, the size of a well-fed wolf, with a sleek silver-gold coat and huge ruff — came through the east fence, stopped cold, and stared me right in the eye. Not challenge; just acknowledgment. Then he took off like a greyhound before the puppies noticed; by the time they saw him and gave chase, he was well on his way.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. Between Coyote and the winds, Trickster seemed the likely vibe of the day to come. Instead, things went smoothly.

I'm not entirely sure he was a real coyote.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.