Oh Abraham..!

A few posts back I wrote about the continuing woes with Sarah's hooves.  Since then her marvelous farrier has been out and gave me a good report. That was a giant relief. 

 Meanwhile, we bought her some brightly colored socks to wear under her boots. Sometimes I add a matching bow to her forelock. A girl needs a sense of style. Bonus, the socks are super squishy and look comfy.

 

 

 

 



I was able to feel pleased about the good news on her hooves and farm life in general for about 2 days. And then Abraham got a funny look on his face and cut way down on his food consumption. I messaged my vet. I kept an eye on the little gray guy. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he wasn't right. I called the vet and explained my concerns. She came right out. She listened to his stomach. She listened to his heart. She opened his mouth and inhaled. A grimace passed over her face. Then she put a speculum in his mouth and cranked it open. She swept her finger in around his molars and some weird black stuff came out.  "You have some jacked up teeth here, sir," she told him.  (The equine dentist was here last fall, and Abraham got a good report then.)  She joked, "You need to get a pet psychic to figure out what is wrong with this guy."

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I knew she was kidding, but my friend is an animal psychic. I bribed her with the promise of lunch out and good ice cream. I said, "Can you talk to Abraham? He does not feel well."  She came right back, "Instantly got a picture of something black and smelly and wondered if he had bad breath." I was wowed.

With medication and frequent feedings,  day by day Abraham donkey improved. Finally he was racing around the pasture again, yelling his fool head off, eating like he normally would, and playing with Sarah. I heaved a sigh of relief and felt the tension leave my shoulders.

And then Bliss began to limp.

Mother of Tweedledee and Tweedledum, looking thin and frail from producing so much milk, now she was holding up her right rear foot. I trimmed her hoof. I poured medication into it. I felt her joints. I cranked up my worry level. The next day she was a little better. I cleaned her hoof again and poured in more medication.  By today she was sound. I heaved a sigh of relief.

And this is farming life. Up and down, worry and relief. I worry about hooves and bellies, and in between I clean stalls and brush critters and watch. Sometimes there is laughter. Sometimes there is concern. But there is always love. So much love.