Yesterday, a friend from south of Chicago called with a weather report. "We have pretty terrible storms here now, so you should get them overnight..."
I had scheduled a date to have the herd worked on for 8 a.m. All night, I listened to raindrops in varying intensities hit the skylight. At 6, after more shakes from the lightening strikes, I decided it was too dangerous to work outside at the bottom of the hill beside the creek.
Shortly after 7, I called the vet and shifted it to tomorrow. When I went down the road to check on the herd, seven mares were in a clump, and one was down, right in the area we'd have had to be in to get the herd to cross the swollen creek. I thought at first she was dead, but as I walked over, I could see her nose moving.
Osobay lay flat on her side, feet extended. There was a scuff mark in the grass, a line of freshly scraped mud from one hoof, but she no longer seemed able to move her legs. She could not lift her head. As I came across the grass, I could see that lovely huge eye rolling in panic, showing a huge amount of white at the top. I talked softly to her, but she didn't respond until she felt my hand on her nose.
But momma couldn't fix it this time. I came up and called the vet, but he's unavailable until 4:30 or so. So, she lays.
A neighbor with horses stopped and took her three year old out into the field with her to examine her, then called me when she was still alive. I told her when the vet was expected...
Finally, the vet showed up. He and his assistant put her down for me. Tomorrow at 9:30, we have a date to shoot/worm and abort the rest of the herd.
I called a neighbor with a gun who might be there, or might be in Chicago, but no answer either way. I left a message.