I turned my horse out.
He was not lame.
Stepping back it looks like I completely abandoned him. You can definitely see some muscle loss. His tail needs some major TLC. And that mane needs some grooming. Overall though, I'm ignoring the topline with extreme denial and celebrating that my horse is fucking sound & healing quickly.
My father deserves a trophy for doing stalls for a week, scrubbing and filling water troughs, dispensing foods and tending to the red nugget. I *almost* stressed that I wasn't the one caring for my horses because I am a complete control freak about some things, but I literally did not care.
Speaking of, I am finally back into the realm of the living, having adjusted to the pain, healed a little myself and finally been able to keep food down.
I dropped 13lbs in a week and I'm pretty sure all my gainz have been lost. But hey, more goals to strive towards right?
The horse was feeling pretty great three days ago when I hobbled out to check on them just in case dad had somehow overlooked something. He was cantering around his paddock tossing his head around and I was like, nah I will wait to turn you out, just for good measure because I'm nervous and you are made of glass apparently.
I almost felt bad not letting him out in the pasture sooner, but I was trying to make it easier on The Faja, and I really was still worried...for some reason. Because you know, horses. What if he gashed his leg and I couldn't be there to fix it. Or stepped on a nail. Or broke his leg. Or died.
So, yeah, I played it safe.
Neither can my wallet.
SuperFarrier also advised to leave the wound open from now on and it developed a lovely scab and looks great, despite said scab grossness. SuperFarrier came out to check on it while I was in the hospital and dealt with my drugged up text responses to him. I love him.
|Poop and scabs. All looks the same in photos.|
I did things.
|Horse happiness is noms|