Colic

It's the word that all of us dread.  I've been so fortunate in my life that none of my horses have ever been colicky before.  I guess we were just lucky but it was a threat we knew was out there but had never had to deal with before.

That abruptly changed on Wednesday.  I was just getting off work (I worked a morning shift so I got off pretty early, thankfully) when I got a message from my mom to call her.  I knew immediately something was wrong with one of the horses.  Why else wouldn't my mom say what it was about in the message?  I immediately called her and she said the worst words she could, "There's something wrong with Socks."

So after I somehow managed to not burst into tears in front of everyone I worked with (minus a girl from another store who was in the back room when I called my mom) I went over to my sister's store and promptly burst into tears in front of all her employees and customers.  Go me.  I didn't even care. 

My mom met me there and we drove straight out to the stable.  We didn't have a lot of information.  Our stable owners are on a short vacation so the instructor at the barn was doing chores.  She already does chores some days of the week so she's a good choice because she's familiar with all the horses.  Anyway, when she fed Socks, Socks didn't even come out of her shelter.  That's a huge red flag.  Socks will tear the barn apart to get to her food.

The instructor brought Socks inside the barn to keep an eye on her.  She said Socks lied down a few times but she never rolled or thrashed.  She never kicked at her stomach but she would turn her head and look at her flanks. 

When we got there I was greeted with a big, loud nicker from Socks.  She was up and made her motorcycle noise for a good two minutes as the instructor poured the stall horse's nightly grain into their buckets.

While my mom and the instructor spoke, I took Socks out and brought her into the arena to walk.  She was more than willing to go.  She did want to lie down.  She'd walk a step away from me and lower her head to the ground.  That's her sign for let me roll.  I'd give a little tug on the lead rope and she'd stop.  She never once tried to go down. 

Long story short, she did actually begin to improve almost immediately with walking.  We were there for six hours in totally (six, long hours in a freezing barn, I still haven't warmed up). 

By the end of it she was 100% normal again.  All she wanted to do was eat, which she did not get to do much to her disappointment.  She was fine the next day and has been good ever since then.

We've all come to the conclusion that it was just a mild colic, but it was scary nonetheless.  I'd rather not have to deal with that again.  At least the instructor has dealt with colic before, and we had a vet on standby. 

I went ten years without dealing with colic, hopefully I can go at least another ten without dealing with it again.