The Annual Abscess

Treatable, Affordable & Better Than the Alternatives

The start of a new year encourages of us to consider our blessings. Strange as it may sound, I am grateful for Andrew’s annual abscess. Yes, a big zit in the hoof makes me happy.

Why would anyone be thankful for an abscess? Because it is not a bowed tendon, a broken sesamoid bone, or severe colic. Because it is easy and affordable to deal with. Because it is something that can even just go away. Because it is a huge relief.

This time the anxiety began with a simple phone call coming from Deborah, Andrew’s “other woman” or half lease. Deborah called to tell me Andrew seemed unsound when she went out to ride him. She thought it was his right front leg but didn’t see any obvious issues, like a bulging tendon or a rock in his hoof.

When I went to have a look, I put him on the lunge line and asked him to trot in a big circle, going at first to the left and then to the right. He was definitely “off,” which means gimpy but not three-legged lame. There was just a little inflammation in the right front ankle but no heat or indication of soreness anywhere in the leg.

I’m an “awfullizer” and Andrew owns 22 years of life this winter, so when he takes a misstep I fret that this is the Beginning of the End. I endure mental horrors such as “Is he fixable? How much is it going to cost” and “Can I afford it? What am I going to do with a 22 year old lame horse?”

Last winter, I went out to feed one morning and found Arthur staggering in his paddock. It looked like he was partially paralyzed on his left side, which led me to believe he’d had a stroke. Fortunately, his healthy appetite caused a shift in my mentality—from drama queen to rational thinker.

Sudden, profound lameness with no inflammation in the leg and no indication of pain anywhere other than the foot are telltale signs of a painful but curable abscess.

This year he wasn’t three-legged lame, just off and with a little inflammation in the ankle. To offset my tendency to fear the worst, I surround myself with smart, experienced, and rational experts—like my vet who is from the racetrack. Only the best will do.

Dr. Stensley said sometimes a foot thing can cause a little inflammation in the ankle. It sounded to him like a stone bruise (a precursor to an abscess). “Soak it in Epsom salts and pack it with Epsom salts poultice. If it doesn’t get better, call me.”

Every day your horse, regardless of his age, is sound and healthy, your life is charmed. As inconvenient as it may be to spend an hour, twice a day, in a freezing barn while soaking your horse’s foot in the Epsom salt solution and wrapping it up like a Christmas present, it’s a small price to pay for his service to you. And it is a lot easier than signing the release form to euthanize him, should he require a colic surgery you can’t possibly afford.

I’m also fortunate to actually enjoy doing hands-on horse care. I’m old school. I began as a “barn rat,” hanging out at the barn looking for whatever work I could do just to have more bonding time with the horses.

To this day, I am very proud of my stall cleaning abilities. I am adept at doing both straw and shavings stalls. I also do my own braiding for shows; I clean my own tack and polish my own boots. I am grateful to have such a disposition, which I feel is the key to being a worthy horseman.

I welcome the challenge of holding Andrew’s hoof up while stuffing it with poultice and then juggling hoof, cotton, vet wrap, duct tape, and scissors all the while preventing him from putting his hoof down. Now that takes skill!

The skill can’t be bought either. It comes from putting in the time and effort. The payoff is tremendous and warms the heart through all the cold.

When Andrew shows off his big, extended trot for me, my heart melts in gratitude that he is sound and healthy and can still produce an attention-getting trot. Now, if only I could learn to sit it!

Click here for more about abscesses.