Having left you high and dry with a rather deep comment or expression of opinion, I come with a sad, rather harsh, update.
Thunder is in heaven.
He was putting up with being lame for about 3 months solid, from a reoccurring injury from 2 years ago, when I decided it was in fact time to get the Vet out.
The rather brutal attitude towards his limping was in fact fair – he had a tendency to limp when he couldn’t be bothered to do the work, or wanted to be doing something more fun than being in the area – so I was relaxed when he decided to limp continually – turning him away whilst I had some holidays on the cards.
Thinking he was just requesting a holiday; when we both returned from said holiday, I hoped that he would be back to his normally, disruptive mentality. This, unfortunately, was not the case; he was limping in and out of the field, with the occasional bucking fit when he decided it was time to get my hopes up again.
More experienced opinions and eyes needed to come into the equation as I was spending too much time being in love and less time being prepared to spend the money on the poor beast.
He went to hospital to have a Ultrasound scan, because the Vet could not find anything on the initial viewing. This came up with nothing at all – only that he needed to either have an MRI or CT scan – if we had the CT scan, they could run into the operation if that’s what we chose.
Now, the recovery rate of the operation was 6months to 1 year box rest, and the chance of being back to hunting standard was 66% at best and 33% if it was what we all feared. It turned out to be what we were all fearing.
He had what is effectively, in humans, shin splints, but real bad ones. Going down into his tendon sheaf and done into his hoof.
Yep, cue the tears. 2 days after finding this out, we had an emotional hug in the stable – ears back on his side, tears on mine. We discussed the fences we are still in shock we got over and the times that he managed to bite me. We laughed about how he used to scare everyone, including me at the beginning, and was in fact just scared of men and we talked about how I’m allowed to replace him, as long as he remains the only grey gelding in my life…
We had a good cry over whether horses go to heaven or not, and ending with a good sloppy kiss and went on our own ways…
Thank you Thunder, for kicking down the lorry until someone gave you attention, and for being a saint on the hunting field. You da best.
*For those that are wondering how I could write a dissertation on eating Horsemeat and not eat my own – the hospital would only do the CT scan and Ultrasound if his passport stated that he had been signed out of the Horsemeat Industry.