1. The day of injury.
2. 15 days later.
3. 30 days later.
4. 5 months later.
5. The wound today.
May 1, 2008: Brimir, my little Icelandic, did the stupidest thing of his life. In a moment of irrational agitation, he vaulted over the 52-inch corral fence and got his back legs stuck on the top rail, which was thick steel rebar.
The horseshoer had just arrived and begun working close by on my Tennesee Walker. Meanwhile, our old mare Babe was screaming to Brimir to get out of there because they were all going to be killed or something. Brimir believed her. Although he was loosely tied, he bunched up and JUMPED over the corral railing in front of my horrified eyes.
Not only was this TOTALLY out of character for this calm, sensible little horse, but I hadn't a clue it was PHYSICALLY possible for him either. He's only 13.2 hands and has never, as far as I know, so much as jumped a log, let alone a high fence, and flat-footed at that.
The horrifying part was seeing him hanging on the fence, violently kicking to free his back legs while his front half was down in the dirt on his knees. He freed his right leg, but the left one was stuck. I was certain he would break both legs and have to be shot then and there.
Our horseshoer, Cary Andrews, ran to Brimir and tried to free his leg but couldn't. He tried to slide the steel rebar out of its socket on the fence post, but couldn't. He returned to Brimir's leg, lifted it and twisted it to get it off the rail. Brimir cooperated by relaxing just enough. The leg fell toward the ground, and Brimir hobbled a few steps. Nothing appeared broken, thank God. But I wasn't ready for the wound that would nag us for 15 months!
There was nothing that could be sutured. The vet suggested keeping it clean and dressing it appropriately, which I did every day for the next four months. Fortunately, Brimir was not lame once he recovered from his initial stiffness after the ordeal. But the wound changed in character every few weeks--getting worse, getting better, then seeping endlessly. We tried a multitude of treatments, including some homeopathic remedies suggested by our open-minded vet. Nothing seemed to clear it up. After a year I was resigned to Brimir always having this nasty, seeping wound on his leg. At least he wasn't lame.
In July of this year, something changed. The seeping stopped, the swelling went down, and the leg returned to a normal size and appearance. By early August, the scar started shrinking, and hair is now growing into the area. For all practical purposes, Brimir's leg can be declared "healed." Hallelujah!
They say time heals all wounds. The problem is finding the patience to wait.
