I could see the blood from her foot...the meaty tissue around her pastern was hamburger, and the flies were feasting on it in a frenzy.
"Please...pleeease...fast forward to 3 months from now and let her be running and happy...please don't let this end the way I think it's going to."
Fifteen more agonizing minutes went on like hours, but finally I saw Paul turn onto our road. His gleaming white vet truck pulled to the fenceline where I stood with Luna down.
He got out, looked over the hood of his truck as he zipped up his lightweight coveralls, and simply said "She's down, that's never good."
My heart sank to my toes, but I held it together anyway.
He grabbed his bucket and gloves and literally, being Tall Paul, stepped over the fencing in one careful motion.
Luna saw Paul approaching, and leapt to her feet, her hoof matted with blood. She was skittish as he went to reach for her, and hugged her huge body into me as if I was going to save her from this terrible man. I soothed her but had to push myself back as she was too large to sit in my lap. She was not about to be touched by him.
The fact that she DID get to her feet was a better sign than being down, but Paul still had a grave look on his face, even though he usually is an optimistic, easy going guy.
He was experienced enough to know just by a glance that she had been caught up in wire.
I about fainted, as it was literally just the other day that I had a horrible preminition about Luna getting injured in fencing, and here it was. The preminition was nothing short of common sense and intuition though...no special psychic powers required to put it together that she loves scratching her ass on the fence to get the winter coat off...that there would be a good possibilty that she would have this happen.
Paul had to dart a sedative into her neck, as she was ready to bolt over me and him both to get away, and make things worse.
Once Luna was feeling heavy, he was able to put his hands on her and asked me if she had been handled much.
I said "Yes, she is a good girl, she just doesn't like you." He got a good chuckle over that. even with a moment of light comic relief, the seriousness of the matter was looming and a black hole sank into my heart.
He scrubbed her hoof down to clean away the dirt and matted blood so he could really see the damage and what the prognosis would be. On the outside I stayed calm, even Paul made a note of it, but I assured him i was about to barf.
He began to carefully inspected the damage, and was able to stick his finger into the hoof.
I thought to myself "Just tell me....tell me we have to put her down so I can let it sink in."
He sat her hoof back down and looked at me. Took a deep breath and I just knew he was going release the dreaded words.
"Just say it...just say it...we have to put her down..."
"It's bad. BUT...I want to be optimistic....I think we can save this."
I wanted to cry, to hug him, to hug Luna, but I remained reserved in my emotions...it wasn't over yet. It won't be over until she is healed, until she is running pretty again in the field. My beautiful Luna. And even still, there is the possibility of having to put her down in the end.
The good news was, nothing was broken. The tendon is damaged, and pretty much everything above her hoof and INTO her hoof is mutilated and hamburger. It is ugly, and Luna is suffering.
"Two months", said Paul. "This is gonna take two months to get her over this...IF we can get her through it. Honestly I was afraid to tell you we would have to put her down, but there is hope, and YOU are going to have to work with her everyday. She has got to stay dry and stalled."
He spent thirty minutes showing me how to bathe her foot, how to clean it, scrub but don't "sandpaper" it, dry it, air it out, salve it up and re-bandage it. Everyday.
I have to give her shots everyday of penecillin, and two grams of bute (horse anti-inflammation/pain killer). I watched carefully, I was a thirty minute vet student.
I then noticed something peculiar about Luna, something Paul said he has never seen in all his days of horse vetting.
Dear Luna bears a mustache. A real honest to goodness mustache. He asked me her breed, I admitted it was unknown, as she was apparently caught running wild with a band of horses as a baby and tamed. Her history of breeding was unknown.
Horses known to have mustaches are usually from larger breeds, such as draft types, Gypsy vanners, Drummers, Friesians, Belgians, and so on. Even a few mustangs have those mustaches on occasion. I will say she does have slight feathering like a Friesian on her legs.
I am in full gear to save my Luna...even if in the end she doesn't heal and we end up having to put her down, I am going to do all I can to save her. She is scared, she is hurting, and I can say that so am I.
My beautiful Luna, please be okay. Sending doses of healing and love...my sweet magical girl with ice blue eyes...
