Photo copyright Wings, 2015; all rights reserved. |
Again.
Starting with a truncated morning, because a local guy was delivering some grass hay. It's fully colic season now, and our alfalfa, pure and unadulterated, is too rich. More money, of course.
Then, Cree.
Wings trimmed all four hooves, and by "trimmed," I mean took half an inch and more off each one. A foundered horse needs low heels and short toes, and we gave her both today. Not that we haven't been, but she's Cushingoid now, and horses with Cushing's have the same tendency that humans with certain endocrine disorders do: rapidly-growing coats that lead to hirsutism, and by the same hormonal imbalance, rapidly-growing hooves, too.
And with founder, you get inflammation in the hoof that leads to swelling within the hoof capsule, which leads to abscesses, which in turn creates more inflammation of the laminae and the inner hoof wall, which in turn worsens the founder, and so the whole cycle just keeps going, and going, and going . . . .
So. Take off as much of the extraneous overgrowth as possible, open up the inflamed areas to let the abscesses drain, and shorten the toes and lower the heels drastically. Think about what happens to a woman wearing high heels: all the weight goes forward on the foot, so the ball of her foot and her toes bear the brunt of it. Same with horses with founder. Lower the heel; reduce the weight on the front. So lowered heels on the foundered forefeet, with greatly shortened toes to force the weight further back, and lowered heels on the rear to keep her weight shifting further back below her body.
Why, yes, I could write a book about it. Why do you ask?
Then painting her frogs and soles with tea-tree oil (prevents thrush), then putting the soak boots on her and loading them with apple-cider vinegar and Epsom salts (drawing formula to drain the abscesses).
Then muck duty. For four shit factories.
Plus all the usual (cooking, cleaning, feeding the troops), plus my "day job." Meanwhile, Wings has studio work to get done, plus soil prep, plus he planted a tree for me, one from home. Another in a few days, when the ground softens enough. Tomorrow, it's Shade's turn with the hoof knives and nippers and file.
No, these are not the kind of things that other people can do for us. That's not remotely my point. But they go a long way toward showing what our days are like. It's not always the horses, of course; it's often a lot of other things.
Because this? This is an ordinary day.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
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