Anyway, I was very, very proud of Lex this morning. She got on the trailer in the dark. She settled right into her stall and ate hay. She was an excellent patient for the catheter in her neck, for the x-rays, for everyone who handled her. I got to hang out with her until she went for surgery, watch the surgery itself, and then hang out with her until R got back to pick us up. She was excellent the whole way through.
|How come we only get alfalfa at the hospital??|
|Excellent window. And yes, I realize she is underweight. |
That's an aspect of recent weirdness I haven't even touched on.
Watching the surgery was really cool. I got to see the whole thing on the ultrasound screen. When it was done, the surgeon turned to me and kinda did this little half-bow/half-shrug thing. After she came out of the anesthesia (by far the scariest part) and she was awake enough to handle it, I went to hang out with her. She was groggy and out of it.
|Is this real life?|
She also pretended to eat hay, even though there wasn't any hay left.
|No, Mom, I'm toooooooootally normal. I promise.|
After we got home I got her settled back in and took her hock wrap off. Her hock looked great, so I put more goop in her eye, kissed her on the nose, and left for awhile. I had to be at the lesson farm to meet with some peopel Of course, when I got back this evening, it was all swollen again. I called the vet and picked up the antibiotics she called in, came back, gave her the pills, cold hosed her hock, and then wrapped it again. I can't even tell you how tired I was. Am.
|The view from the hosing position. |
Was there ever a more unflattering neck angle?