Just Another Day at the Office......

Growing up in the seventies in rural western Kentucky, with no cable tv and only 2 channels picked up by our antenna, there was plenty of time for daydreaming. There is nothing better than a great story. I love to read. I love being surprised by an ending that is truly good. I love the creative use of words. I just love everything about a story. We've all got a story. Don't you just love hearing from someone that you haven't seen in years? It's like getting another chapter.



Back when I was a little girl, I had a big closet. In that closet, I had a desk set up and an old manual typewriter on it. I had lots and lots of purple ruled paper that I used to compose my stories on. One of my stories involved having a horse. I imagined being able to gallop across an open, rolling pasture. My horse and I would be able to communicate with each other in a way that the naitive Americans did in Hollywood. I would be able to predict which horse would win in the races at Keeneland just by looking at the field. It was all very cheesy. Getting older makes dreams more realistic. Ignorance allows you to dream without limit. Then I got a horse and I could not ride him. I could not read his thoughts. I just fed him and sat in the field and told him my stories. I think he was bored.



Fast forward 15 yrs. I met my husband to be, who is a horsevet, of all things. You might think that this would be a dream come true. In a way it was, but I was now terrified of horses. Little did I know of the future I was about to embark upon. Maybe God gave me this dream of horses all those years ago because it would be my story afterall. I don't think that God cared for Disney movies much. I don't think he consulted with Hollywood either. Sappy dreams from the last scene in some bad movie were not to be my story.



What is the story of a gal's life being married to a horsevet? There are so many stories of the adventures of this life. There are some days that are just a typical day at the office. Like children, horses make life unpredictable. Owners of horses can have such a vast array of experience and knowledge. With that said I'll give an example of one of those interesting days.



Horsedoc comes home from work looking downhearted. One case from the day isn't going the way he'd like and he's been paged and the call will probably be one that will be difficult. He had wanted to check on the horse from earlier in the day, but the page was a 10 month old horse, who had been handled little. This filly had a cut on a back leg that was cut in a barbed wire fence. It was about 5:30 pm and the sun was to set in about thiry minutes. This farm didn't have electricity. The caretaker of the horses had not handled them very much. He was a man that the owner had met riding cross country, and I am not referring to the sport that my daughter participates in, I mean literally riding his horse across the country. He had white long dirty hair and a beard. When we drove up, there was a small paddock with many, many horses running around. There were young horses, pregnant horses, older horses but mostly just way too many rarely handled horses. The young filly was running loose amongst all these horses. The caretaker, we'll refer to as Wild Man, had put a purple lotion used for disinfecting wounds, on the leg and turned her loose. Not exactly a brillant move because now her leg burns and the last time she was caught, and someone touched her leg, it burned. For thirty to forty minutes Horsedoc, Wild Man, and myself, tried to catch this scared young horse. The sun is trying to set, all shapes and sizes of horses are nervously running in all directions. It's not looking so good. We offered to leave some medication and return the next day, after she had been caught but Wild Man was having no part of that. Instead he decides to rope the filly. Horsedoc looks at me and I look at him and I ask, "Is this a good idea?" He says, " if he does actually rope her, she'll drag him into the next county." Needless to say, Wild Man wasn't quite the cowboy he imagined himself to be. By this time, dusk is the term I'd use to describe the time of day. The clock is ticking. Horsedoc, while good at his job, is getting older and the eyes just aren't the same. All of this activity doesn't have a very calming effect on the situation. Finally, by some blessing from God, the filly is caught. Wild Man said that she'd kick your teeth in, if given the opportunity and she certainly tried to live up to that reputation.

The first shot is given with rearing and circling, blowing and snorting. She starts to calm down and I'm allowed in to hold her while Horsedoc gathers some supplies, but that one eye that she's looking at me with says, "When I'm not so tired, I'm gonna come looking for you." It is determined that she will have to be knocked out completely as there are numerous cuts, drains are needed and she's not really a willing participant. I am shooed off as the second shot is given and she goes down. It's pretty dark by now. A flashlight is found. Not a fancy surgical light that lights up the world, nope, just a regular old flashlight. In my mind, I can distantly hear an announcer saying, "And, they're off!! Some how this doesn't feel so much like a smooth run, on a clear day, with the perfect footing, around the track. No, I think we're talking about a sloppy track, with high winds and horses refusing the starting gate. Perhaps some clipping occurs early on causing some traffic issues. Tools are yanked out of the vet box in a chaotic fashion, shots are drawn, all supplies thrown together and a made dash is made for the sleeping horse in the paddock with many many other horses wandering around. All the while, Horsedoc keeps muttering under his breath, "Why the hell did I say I'd do this?" "I knew I shouldn't have brought you here!" "This just a damn mess." He begins cleaning the wound and starts yelling for suture material, a sterile pack and other items. While I help enough to know where some common supplies are, I don't know where everything is. Whats more, this is a huge truck and the box is taller than I'm able to reach. I am climbing on the bumper trying to pull myself up on this box to find the right suture material while he is yelling for me to hurry and not forget to close the gate. Meanwhile, the other horses are becoming comfortable with us and are nosing in the suture pack he's using. Wild Man is holding the light, Horsedoc is trimming and suturing faster than any the old lady at a quilting bee, blood is spurting, I am shooing horses away running back and forth for supplies that I cannot reach or find and the truck is becoming a disasterous mess. Drains are placed, bandaging is done, supplies are being picked up and Horsedoc's phone falls out of his pocket into the puddle of blood. I yank it up and wipe it with a 4 X 4, not realizing that blood is still down inside the cover, because by now it is pitch black. Who cares about the phone, not me. We're finished, she's still sleeping and we lived!!! My hands are now shaking. I didn't realize it before because there was no time. But now, while trying to label her meds, I can barely write the directions. It occurs to us that maybe Wild Man can't read because he won't look at the RX label, but keeps repeating the directions back to us. We leave and head to the next after hours call. We're frazzled and bloody. There is no way to properly charge for the time and materials tied up in this call. We've got a mess to deal with in the vet box but think perhaps we helped out a horse in need and maybe that was something we should do regardless of how dangerous and odd the situation was. We've crossed the finish line, not in a winning position but without injury or incident.

The next morning, the owner calls the office to find out what he owes. He's an older gentleman. He is unable to care for his horses but used to own horses and had hoped to raise a few now with the help of Wild Man. Our secretary starts to give him the details, line item by line item, he interrupts and says just give me the bad news. When she gives him the total, he is furious, he can't believe he's being charged an after hours fee because it was only 5:30 when he called. He's gonna pay, but he's gonna bad mouth us to everyone he knows. He's firing Wild Man and he's just generally pissed off. Our work day was 14 hrs that day. Our kids didn't see us for more than 2 hrs. The phone was ruined. We were exhausted. This is how we make our living. There are so many great owners, some interesting ones and some that leave you feeling like, why did you call? It's the horses that you want to help, because they aren't responsible for their owners. Horsedoc always loved the horse first. I think he just forgot they came with owners.