Because of Ava’s quirks, we are sustaining quite a lot of stall damage. Lately, when Ava leaned against the wall (and I mean lean, as in full weight) I was hearing some ominous groaning and cracking going on. Plus, she’d cracked the top board nearly in half. I knew that stall wall wasn’t going to hold out much longer if we didn’t do something to shore it up.
My amazing hubby installed a 4″ x 6″ post to the center stall divider (lag bolted into the rafters and floor) in hopes of preventing Ava from smashing, kicking, or brute force pushing, the stall wall down. He did this in 90 degree heat, with humidity off the charts.
I, of course, helped!
First, I cleaned the area where the brushes are stored. Then, I scrubbed out all the water buckets and the water tank, I brought hubby a couple of screws, disinfected all of the brushes, and cleaned some more stuff. I tried knocking down cobwebs, but mainly succeed in dropping spiders in my hair.
I think at that point Hubby was getting a bit miffed at my lack of true participation, so he asked me to help him hold a stall mat while he cut it to fit. I put my entire weight against that mat to keep it still, but amazingly my fat ass wasn’t heavy enough to hold it…
He put the toe of his boot on the mat…. it held still. The toe!
I feel like letting everyone know that the “24/7 turnout miracle cure for all bad behaviors” is a farce. Ava has total freedom and 24/7 access to pasture, she has free choice hay, she has buddies, and a big pasture to stretch her legs in. She stands in the stall 23 hours a day and kicks (even if no one is near her) or leans on the walls.
I bought your lies, you hippies. Never again!
The old mare, Jessie, got cast in her stall this morning and some how got her hoof through the bars of the stall and wedged it between the bars. Even bent the bars.
We had to cut the bars to free her hoof. Husband cut the bar with a Sawzall. She was all twisted up and in odd angles (unnatural angles). She’d been struggling for a while. Breathing heavy. Obviously very frightened.
Husband gets the hoof free, she just lays there breathing heavily. After a minute I nudged her and she tried to stand, but was still too close to the wall. We had to put ropes around her legs and pull her on to her other side so she could stand up. Nearly got my husband squashed and kicked by the hind end.
We finally get her to a point where she can get up on her own. She struggles up and immediately makes a mad, 3-legged dash to the pasture. Blood streaming down her leg. Most pathetic sight ever. Then I had to chase her down while she three-legged hopped away from me.
Stubborn old mare.
We had the vet out. She’ll live. Damaged, and on stall rest for at least a month, but she’ll live.
When we finally got her in the barn, she was shaking really badly. I didn’t have any horse blankets at the new house, so I put some extra blankets we had in the house on her.
I called 3 different vets. The first one said they’d have the vet call us, but he never called. The second one told us they wouldn’t come out because we weren’t a client, and they weren’t accepting new clients. I asked them if they could suggest any other vets in the area, and they told me no. Flat out, just no. Third vet called me right back, verified Jessie wasn’t dying that very moment, and she fit us in for late morning. Thank God!