Tis The Season (Slow-Mo in Snow)

"At one stable where I hang out," Roomie said, "they are keeping lots of mineral oil around because it is the season for colic.  In the two colic stories I heard recently, there were some major differences. In one case the boarder went to the stable proprietor with her concerns and the vet was called and the impaction was quickly treated. and the boarder was taught the water drinking changed habits reasons behind the slight case of colic. In the other story, the boarder's concerns were downplayed and the signs of colic were not recognized. The boarder called the vet herself and a serious case was then treated, and followed by a week of rest.

The way that Pharlap movie just shows him lying down in the trainer's arms to die from colic had Roomie sobbing. But no actual horseperson would actually comfort a horse like that i'm sure of it!  When a horse has colic you walk him, not hold him.
*

As she walked past to make herself a tea in her own little hayloft apartment, Jill thought the little bay's obsessive pawing in the snow, in the corner of the paddock seemed weird. It was like a second thought she was having.  She remembered, in hindsight, whthat en she called to him to cut it out, he seemed kind of dopey -- not his usual self. She decided to forgo a break and bring him in, putting her toque and parka back on and getting outside as fast as she could. He did not stop his pawing, even as she approached him, which made him (for a change) easy to catch.
This was not a good sign.


In the stall, she offerred him carrot before removing his outside blanket, but he was not interested. And, as she undid buckles and belts and slid the blue sheet off him, she could see he wanted to roll.

Jill knew that a horse can die from colic, often from twisting their intestines by rolling, in futile attempts to ease their stomach ache. So, she left him only for a second to call the boss, who was reluctant to call the vet, reluctant even to come out of the house to have a look for herself or lend a hand. She wanted Jill to walk him and see if he improved. As Jill kept the horse walking in the arena, she could not get a cell signal, so she made the poor beast walk through the barn and out into the freezing, windy, slippery parking lot while she dialed his owner. Luckily, it was actually a phone number she knew by heart. Her friend, the owner, called the vet herself and frantically announced she would be right over.

By the time her owner-friend and the vet arrived, almost in perfect synchronisity, Jill was having real trouble keeping him on his feet. She was afraid he/they would never forgive her for the way she had to kick at him from the ground with all her might while yanking on the lead shank and yelling at him to keep him from getting down. 


When he did walk, she patted him and consoled him but then his legs would crumple and she would have to get the aggressive/ferocious (life saving kindness) streak out again.

She managed to keep him standing for the shots and the hose thru his nostril into the stomach and all the other aspects of the treatment that saved him. The remedy actually, thankfully, worked, and worked fast. She said in a way she was glad that she wasn't crying wolf and in a way she was sorry she wasn't, when they had commended her for noticing and for taking such prompt action.

He was not himself for a few days afterwards, and she was never sure if it was the medicines or the illness that left him so much recovering to do. And, Jill clearly remembered how the very next day the boss had yelled "you have got to start noticing things." No wonder she hadn't worked there long. She had moved on to better things, and was just sorry for her equine friends still stuck there.