Not a good horse weekend: Part 1 - Friday

I can't even tell you how much
I really wish we were already living
in that horse-friendly place out in the country.

Where I could actually keep an eye on the horses.
Right out my own window.

This is how I wish my weekend had gone....

It was NOT a good horse weekend. Although, I suppose, since all of them ARE still upright, it could have been a lot worse....

The horses got a new bale Friday. When G put it out, it ended up ground side facing the herd, and even more unfortunately, close enough that they could reach it over the fence. Grrrr.

I usually have the chance to peel that part off and I certainly don't feed it, but by the time we got out there that night, Sunny, being a bit of a pig, munched his way through lots more yucky hay than was good for him. (I suppose the plus side to his being a pig is that he was the only one who'd been eating it....) But when we got out to feed, he was... off.

Just not his usual self - you know the look? Sort of semi-glazed: no whinnying in greeting when we piled out of the truck; not aggressively removing the mares from the good hay, once it was distributed; not waiting for me and following me around.

Of course, it was dark. And cold.

He wasn't sweating or otherwise really distressed. We checked for gut sounds (good) - stethoscope came in handy, there - his gums were nice and pink, and the refill rate was good. He didn't want to lay down. It was just my gut was telling me his was bothering him.

We baby-sat him for several hours, during which he'd perk back up for a while, and then go back into slightly worried-horse mode. But the "good" spells got longer and longer, and the worried spells got shorter and shorter, and finally he was tugging to go back to the hay. As soon as he was loose, he pooped and then chased the mares out of his spot. Ordinarily, annoying, but right then, I was glad to see him being his crabby self.

We watched him a while longer, but I was almost sure he was feeling better. J & G weren't home, so I left a message for her to check him later on in the evening when they got home, and to call me, which she did. He was standing, with the others, not eating, but seemed social enough when she talked to him. She'd keep an eye on him and call me in an hour or if anything changed. I sweated through the hour until her second call wondering if I shouldn't just drive back out. But finally called and reported he was eating and totally ignored her. She'd check again before she went to be at 11 PM and call me if anything looked off.

I headed out early, early Saturday morning after very little sleep, to check on him. He'd been laying down by the mud he was wearing, but he greeted me with his usual enthusiasm, so that crisis seemed past.

So that was Friday