Use What You’ve Got

The first week of January was a roller coaster. Not only was the U.S. insurrection playing on everyone’s minds, I had a week-long migraine that landed me in the ER. In the midst everything our grandson, Thatcher, was born. A massive bright spot in a weird week! Then, on Thursday, husband Guy, who was handling all of my farm work and nursing me all while working his own full-time job told me, “Rocky’s lame.”

Rocky, if you remember, is one of my hellion ponies. He’s never lame. As my coach and mentor in all things equine, Jan Humphrey, would say, “He’s tough as old boots.”

But, sure enough, pony was sore on his left front leg. He moved like a little black tank with a flat tire — rolling forward with resolve but wobbly at one corner. The leg was warm-ish and a bit swollen.

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Like most horse people, I’ve dealt with my share of lamenesses over the years. Mac, my gangly giraffe of a Thoroughbred, was a living textbook on equine ailments and conditions. As a welcome to horse ownership, he came up lame two days after I bought him.

If one of my horses is sore, I’ve learned not to freak out and immediately call our vet. Eight times out of 10 it’s a soft-tissue injury that resolves quickly with a bit of TLC.

I first put Rocky on bute, which is essentially equine aspirin. In these situations, I like to cold-hose — running water on the limb for 10 minutes or more a couple of times a day to reduce inflammation and pain.

But cold hosing in January clearly wasn’t part of the game plan for Rocky. I needed another solution.

Our vast collection of ice packs are strictly reserved for my migraines or Guy’s lunch bag. A pack of frozen peas or corn is often recommended — but, to my mind, they belong in the kitchen, not the barn (says the girl who happily eats while mucking out stalls).

Jan used to tell me every barn problem could be fixed with baler twine, duct tape and a glass of wine. Based on that theory, I decided to use what was immediately on hand. Our shavings (for stall bedding) come either in paper or plastic 3.5-cubic-foot bags. I cut two thirds off of a plastic one, stuck a chunk of snow in it and tied everything up with twine. Ta-da — a makeshift ice-therapy solution.

For about a week, I applied the “snow in a bag on a leg” for between five and 10 minutes a day while Rocky ate supper. He was curious at first but it must have felt OK because he always stood quietly. He’d also nuzzle sweetly into my neck as I squatted beside him, so naturally, I took that to mean he was thanking me, whether that was the case or not.

For overnight, I’d wrap his front legs in stable bandages to keep them warm and promote circulation. The horse-size leg wear was a little big for his short legs, but that made him look pretty darn cute.

Rocky was on limited turnout with son Cricket for a few days but is much better now, back with all of his pals and moving like the little tank he is.