Oh, Sarah...

Sunday morning I thought I noticed Sarah donkey limping. I had a long list of things to do to get ready for the bridal shower we were hosting that day, so I filed the information away in my brain and went about my tasks.  That afternoon, when all the guests had gone, I went outside and watched the animals. Sarah's limp was far worse.  I sent my marvelous veterinarian a text message, and she told me to keep her posted. I gave Sarah a dose of pain killer to make her more comfortable, and then did a good bit of fretting. The leg she was favoring was not  one of the two  that we had already been treating for hoof woes.  This morning she was still limping, and I sent my vet a little video of her.  She texted back that she could come on over, and I was delighted. She is very busy this time of year, and it was a happy surprise that she could come out so quickly.

Once here she palpated Sarah's leg, and then took some tools and started testing her hoof.  The tool on the ground in the above picture was used to pinch her hoof in various places. Mostly Sarah didn't care, but then something hurt, a lot, and this gentle, patient donkey reared right up, waving her feet in the air in protest.  "Abscess," the vet said.  "I'd bet on it."  She took other tools and cut away at the hoof, trying to find the pus pocket, to no avail.  She gave me instructions on how to treat it.  Then we led Sarah into the shed and the vet took her boots off, one at a time, to see how the hooves we are already treating were doing. She squirted drying medication on the front one, slipped a clean, dry sock on it, and replaced the boot.  Then she checked the back hoof.  "Ew." She said.  "This is bad," she said.  My heart fell. I have been following her instructions to the letter, and the farrier thought things were going well.  "It's just so wet out, her feet are soaked." She kindly added, "I am not upset with you at all, it's just this mud. Her feet are a train wreck, they are awful. We'll get them fixed, but it's going to take time."  My heart lifted when she added, "Getting this donkey was a very bad thing for you, but it was a very best thing that could have happened to her. Anyone else would have put her down by now."

Meanwhile, sweet, patient, Sarah stood stock still.

When the vet left, I headed to the store to buy supplies to treat Sarah's sore foot.  Then, this afternoon, I soaked her hoof in very warm water with Epsom salts for 20 minutes.  I brushed her while she soaked, and as long as I did she stood completely still. The yellow boot on her front right leg is the soaking boot.

Abraham fretted and worried while I worked on her, he stayed very close.

I brushed him, too. He adores being brushed. This time of year they are losing their long, thick, fuzzy winter coat, and I imagine it is an itchy process.

After a 20 minute soak, I applied the special poultice to the bottom of Sarah's hoof, then wrapped that on with a nice, hot pink, wrap. Next I topped the whole mess off with a special boot.  Now three of her four feet are being treated for ailments.  Poor little donkey.

I think she'd be happier if she had hot pink boots. These black ones are boring.

While I was out messing with animals, I invited the very pregnant Bliss (red bandana) into the yard.  I caught this picture of her yesterday.  She found a place in the pasture where the hens had dug an impression in the earth for dust baths. Bliss placed her extended abdomen into the depression, and had a long, happy-looking, rest there.

Snack lured, I fastened her into the milking stand. While she ate I shaved the underside of her tail and her udder. It's not the neatest job, but she was not totally cooperative. In fact, she was not cooperative at all!  This will make cleaning up after birth much easier. I found a bit of mucus while I worked, and the ligaments over her tail are very loose. Birth is imminent.

I can hardly wait. Having a new kid (or more!) will be such fun.