I awoke yesterday twenty minutes early in a freaking panic. I thought I'd overslept, after having woken up early for so long. When the panic subsided, I luxuriated in bed for a few extra minutes. It was awesome.
Got to work, life as normal.
And then my barn manager texted me that Archie's leg was swollen. I'd expected this, right? It happened during that two-three day span in January when we went wrapless. I asked if it was inside the leg or all over. She sent the photo below.
I replied back something to the effect of, "oh shit, I'll text the vet." She'd already texted him by that point and he said he was in the area and would swing by.
Congratulations, Archie, you've got cellulitis!
Here are some more gory photos from last night. Yay!
I walked him around for about ten minutes and then cold hosed him for about ten minutes. Shoved bute and carrots in his face and hovered over him to make sure he ate his dinner plus antibiotics plus beer.
This morning, my body grudgingly got up at our "normal" time. It wasn't early enough to do as much as I wanted, but I shoved more bute in his face, walked him in a large figure-8, cold hosed for about ten minutes and left him to his breakfast.
I remind myself, as I have throughout this entire process when my confidence in life starts to wane, that horse ownership is a luxury. Owning Archie is one of the best decisions I ever made and being the person to care for him now is a privilege.