Shade

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

That's Shade, a little over an hour ago. The eating is a good sign, but as you can see, she's not looking at all herself. 

Shade is sixteen, normally sleek and muscular; perfect weight assertive, stubborn, take-no-shit temperament. Cree, who we lost last year on February 15th (2017), was her mother, and she was really the only one who could discipline Shade at all. Cree was also the herd matriarch, and when we lost her, the other three bonded tighter than ever. Then when we lost Ice on August 6th? Shade and Miskwaki have become inseparable, to the point that neither wants the other out of his or her sight.

I mentioned in the post just below this one some of what's been going on lately. Shade has had a few relatively mild colics over the years, generally nothing that walking and maybe a little Banamine couldn't handle. She did, however, seem to get entirely her mother's genes, so she developed laminitis in her right front a couple of years ago (mild and well-managed), and lately we've been thinking that she's also developed her mom's Cushing's. That is likely true, but it remains to be seen whether we'll have the chance to address it.

She had been dealing with a skin irritation on the underside of her belly that looked like allergy, but along with that, she began losing weight, especially off her topline, and her coat and skin had lost their healthy-looking sheen and texture. All potentially related to the Cushing's (save the allergy, although it and the inflammation could certainly aggravate each other). Two weeks ago, we had the vet pull some labs, and her liver enzymes were elevated: not drastically so; just enough to indicate a problem, or at least a potential one. The plan was two weeks' worth of antibiotics in case it was infection-related, and then re-evaluate.

The last couple of days, she took a dive. Clearly at least pre-colicky, although Banamine and walking, again, seemed initially to take care of it. Not today. Today, she was in enough distress that Miskwaki constantly nipped at her neck and back and flanks to try to get her on her feet (because horses know, and they know what needs to happen; he used to do it with Cree, too). A little before 5 PM, it was clearly time to call the vet (who has been dealing with colic emergencies all over the county nonstop for days, and has had very little sleep, but was kind enough to come out within a half-hour). She spent a couple of hours out here, and initially, it looked very bad indeed.

Without getting too graphic (those of you with horses will know what this means), she was in full colic, such that her intestine was displaced. Now, that's not torsion; it's not good, but it's not the near-death sentence that a torsion colic is (that's what Ice developed at the end, a result of the tumor we didn't even know he had having grown and shifted to such an extent that it turned his intestine into a twist). Shade's is merely moved to the side, which is still dangerous but not at quite the same level. However, on the manual exam, the vet couldn't get beyond the displacement (sometimes it's not so bad, and that can be done; this was not one of those times). What that means is that we don't know what's causing the displacement: simple gas? an impaction? a mass (i.e., a tumor)? that limits what we can do even diagnostically.

So we began with more sedation and tubing her with mineral oil. Then, the vet did an ultrasound of the liver area. That was not promising; she has to analyze the images thoroughly, but it appears as though there might be a whole line of small masses there.  Now, that doesn't necessarily mean cancer; they could be benign. Alternatively, even a benign mass, growing too much or shifting the wrong way, can prove fatal. So that's a crapshoot. Finally, she did a belly tap (think spinal tap, but of the stomach cavity, using a hollow needle to pull out fluid for analysis). We were hoping to be able to see what proteins or other substances might be in it, but instead, it was filled with blood. That likely indicates internal bleeding — although, again, it could be something relatively minor that just happens to coincide with everything else.

Afterward, she refused her grain and lay down again; no thrashing, no seizing, just a half-roll. Then, she emitted a small amount of gas a couple of times, and that is the absolute best thing that could happen right now. The vet recalibrated her chances from 80/20 against to 50/50. We can address the liver stuff down the road (and the Cushing's, too, if it comes to that), but nothing happens if she doesn't make it through this colic. We have two syringes filled with sedative for her should things go south, but as of last check about 20 minutes ago, she was lying down relatively comfortably, head up, eyes clear and alert, looking as relaxed as is possible under the circumstances. We're taking that as a good sign. Miskwaki is standing watch over her. And we'll take all the prayers and good vibes for this girl that we can get, because it's not her time yet. Whatever ya got, please, please, send it her way. 

Thanks.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.