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Another expensive pony day....
So, having cheerfully decided yesterday that GB was fit and sound, we went up to the yard to see him again today, teenager in-tow on the way to pony club (on a different horse: I told her off when I realised she'd not been going because GB was out of work, and she booked to use a school horse today, and the timings worked so we gave her a lift).
He was distinctly grumpy, and kept threatening to kick when I was washing the mud off his back legs, which was odd. We thought maybe he had a fly bothering him on his belly and gave him a squirt of fly spray, and he calmed down.
Off to the school, for another gentle ride, and he was lovely, behaved very nicely. We'd just had our first warm-up canter and I was bringing him around to go for one in the other direction when I stopped to chat to Mike, who was on Bessie. GB fidgeted a bit and then... next thing I knew, he was lying down, me still sitting happily on his back.
Bugger. Dragged him up and spent the next hour in a relay team forcing him to walk around in circles, covered in sweat, beating him with a stick whenever he tried to lie down, shouting instructions and questions at the designated phoner-to-vets.
(This, for the non-horse-experienced, would be classic colic. Horses can neither burp nor vomit, so if they get an upset stomach there's not much that they can do about it. As it's painful, they want to just stop and have a little lie down. Horses guts basically stop working when they lie down. Then they die.)
On the plus side, he had half a dozen small poos while we were walking him, and he'd pretty much stopped collapsing tot he floor by the time the vet arrived. The vet got out his lovely long rubber glove and had a feel around, then (with a large amount of barging and complaining) gave him a jab of painkiller and another of muscle relaxant: GB had a lot of gas in his intestine, which was what was causing the trouble.
Over the next hour or so, he perked up considerably, and was back to normal (ie, snuggling me and trying to nip Mike). Then he decided to have a lie down. We knew he was tired and a bit doped up, so we thought we'd just keep an eye on him and not worry unless he looked in pain. He lay down and looked woozy. Then he went completely flat out and floppy. At this point, while other people waved their hands in front of his eyes and wiggled his legs in an attempt to get a response, I put in another call to the out-of-hours vet paging service: stoned horse is worrying!
While I was waiting for a call back, he woke up a little bit and (very reassuringly) he suddenly jumped to his feet when I happened to open the Treat Cupboard. Phew!
Then he went down again. And tried to roll. Up he was dragged, and time to walk and walk and walk and... then the vet got back to me, and said not to worry. See if he wants to eat.
Hay. Hay is good. Nom, nom, hay. Ooh, but I would like to lie down, maybe I should go over here and... oh, but hay! Hay! Nom! It would be nice to lie down though, maybe it I go over here and.... oh! Hay!
Eventually, he did have a lie down, and a most enormous fart, after whch he got back up and carried on eating his much-reduced dinner.
After we left, I had a couple of text messages: he's been both lying down and standing up, doesn't seem to be especially happy but also not in too much distress.
Fingers crossed for a nice big pile of poo in his stable when we get there in the morning.
He was distinctly grumpy, and kept threatening to kick when I was washing the mud off his back legs, which was odd. We thought maybe he had a fly bothering him on his belly and gave him a squirt of fly spray, and he calmed down.
Off to the school, for another gentle ride, and he was lovely, behaved very nicely. We'd just had our first warm-up canter and I was bringing him around to go for one in the other direction when I stopped to chat to Mike, who was on Bessie. GB fidgeted a bit and then... next thing I knew, he was lying down, me still sitting happily on his back.
Bugger. Dragged him up and spent the next hour in a relay team forcing him to walk around in circles, covered in sweat, beating him with a stick whenever he tried to lie down, shouting instructions and questions at the designated phoner-to-vets.
(This, for the non-horse-experienced, would be classic colic. Horses can neither burp nor vomit, so if they get an upset stomach there's not much that they can do about it. As it's painful, they want to just stop and have a little lie down. Horses guts basically stop working when they lie down. Then they die.)
On the plus side, he had half a dozen small poos while we were walking him, and he'd pretty much stopped collapsing tot he floor by the time the vet arrived. The vet got out his lovely long rubber glove and had a feel around, then (with a large amount of barging and complaining) gave him a jab of painkiller and another of muscle relaxant: GB had a lot of gas in his intestine, which was what was causing the trouble.
Over the next hour or so, he perked up considerably, and was back to normal (ie, snuggling me and trying to nip Mike). Then he decided to have a lie down. We knew he was tired and a bit doped up, so we thought we'd just keep an eye on him and not worry unless he looked in pain. He lay down and looked woozy. Then he went completely flat out and floppy. At this point, while other people waved their hands in front of his eyes and wiggled his legs in an attempt to get a response, I put in another call to the out-of-hours vet paging service: stoned horse is worrying!
While I was waiting for a call back, he woke up a little bit and (very reassuringly) he suddenly jumped to his feet when I happened to open the Treat Cupboard. Phew!
Then he went down again. And tried to roll. Up he was dragged, and time to walk and walk and walk and... then the vet got back to me, and said not to worry. See if he wants to eat.
Hay. Hay is good. Nom, nom, hay. Ooh, but I would like to lie down, maybe I should go over here and... oh, but hay! Hay! Nom! It would be nice to lie down though, maybe it I go over here and.... oh! Hay!
Eventually, he did have a lie down, and a most enormous fart, after whch he got back up and carried on eating his much-reduced dinner.
After we left, I had a couple of text messages: he's been both lying down and standing up, doesn't seem to be especially happy but also not in too much distress.
Fingers crossed for a nice big pile of poo in his stable when we get there in the morning.
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