So I show up to the farm on Saturday and as I'm going to get Kieran to bring him in for breakfast (along with all the other horses!), I look at him and frown. "Please let that be mud," I say, "not blood." Nevermind that their field is covered in snow right now and there's not much in the way of mud.
No, I get closer and indeed, his back right leg from partway up the cannon bone on down is all red with blood. Luckily, I note, it's all
dryblood and not still-gushing blood...but still!
Anyway, get him inside, warm up some water and clean up his leg to find all the blood originated from one, slightly crescent-shaped spot (though the picture doesn't look it, as it's mostly covered by hair). Presumably, he got kicked there. Put ointment on and gave him some bute, but he was obviously feeling ouchy about it (though we suspect some of that is drama-queen since he walks noticeably better out in his field than he does inside the barn where people are looking at him and might give him treats to make him feel better). Still, there went any ideas I had of working him this weekend.
Mortal wound, am I right? Or at least, Kieran would like me to think so. ;)
Oh! And I got an award in the previous post, I have not forgotten you! Just haven't had time to sit down and write up the requisite post regarding it.
