I swear to the universe if he would just stay sound
(warning: this is a whiny rant in which I vent pointlessly about the abundance of terror in my life even though I know what I need to do about it at 1:02 a.m. while finishing a gallon of water and crying quietly alone in the dark. please continue at your own risk.)
At the end of January, Mudpie tore his suspensory ligament. I was absolutely devastated, blah blah, I switched to online high school to finish my junior and senior years, blah blah, I got really depressed, I gained about 30 pounds in 4 months, etc, etc...
So in March Mudpie and I went to Northern California to live with a friend of mine for about two months. While there, he got his feet trimmed with a vet present, there was a ton of improvement... I came back and called my trainer's farrier and he was able to drive up and start trimming Mudpie. I pulled Mudpie's shoes right after I found out he was lame, but Mudpie is not and will never be sound without shoes, so even though I've been working on getting his angles and shapes and flares corrected, and hopefully healthier hooves in the long run, I have no false expectations for him to magically become sound barefoot.
Anyways, he's been on stall rest this entire time, with minimal handwalking starting recently, but he's been active (too active, actually, but the vet insists that his stall size is fine and to leave it) and in seven months of this he's never had a problem with stocking up.
Well, he got trimmed on Monday, and he was, as he always is after a barefoot trim, pretty "ouchie." He was fine on Tuesday, and then Wednesday morning I came out to find him really stocked up, with some heat. I hoped he would work it out on his own, but I came back later to find that there was no improvement. I gave him a gram of bute, and then Wednesday morning I checked on him to find that they were stocked up even more. So I hand walked him for 15 minutes, cold hosed his hind legs for 10 minutes each, and then hand walked him for another 10 minutes. But there's only so much hand walking I can do thanks to his suspensory injury. I gave him another gram of bute, poulticed his leg with Sore-No-More cooling clay stuff, and wrapped it. In the evening I took the wraps off to see that they were a little better, and then after I finished mucking all the stalls that I do, I saw that the swelling had gone down a lot in the right hind and a little in the left.
I'm just so frustrated that this keeps happening, and obviously he has much more serious problems than just stocking up, but the best thing to do for the swelling would be to ride him, or turn him out or something, but that's the worst thing to do for his ligament, and I don't even know the status of that because my mother fell through with her agreement to pay for his ultrasound, and also completely stopped supporting him the day I turned 18. So now I had to spend any and all money I had on feed, and I haven't even managed to pay board this month. I can't drive, have no job, and there are no job opportunities anywhere, especially in a "rural" community like the one I'm in. On top of this, I'm trying to finish my junior and senior years of high school, which is required to be a "full time" thing, but in order to pay for Mudpie, I'd have to find a full time job.
So I have one option left, and that's to go work for and live with a trainer full time, which is applicable only because I have no where else to go. The problem with that is in order to manage to work enough to pay for my rent & Mudpie's board, I'd need to be working pretty much full time. So now I'm facing not finishing high school and instead pursuing something like a G.E.D., or a high school equivalency exam... neither of which are fantastic but they'll have to do because I have to make this work.
Staying where I'm at is not an option either, because as I was informed after my mother spent an hour telling me that I had to find somewhere to stay, and after I repeated that I didn't have anywhere else to go, "You don't have here."
And the only offer I got for someone to take Mudpie and I in while I finish high school is in North Carolina, and there is no way I can get there, let alone get him there, and the people who offered can't even afford it.
I just wish that I had some sort of leg to stand on, and I wish that Mudpie would stay sound for at least a year straight. That's all. Instead of these stupid 6 months intervals of soundness between which he seriously, often life-threateningly, injures himself that have been going on all three years that I've owned him. And I love him more than anything else in the world, and I know for **** sure that I wouldn't have made it without him, and I know for **** sure that if I ever lost him I'd never make it through the night. But it I'm in so far over my head, and I don't know anything about the real world or taxes or how insurance works or how going to the doctor works or how to use the checking account that my mother enthusiastically bestowed upon me the afternoon of my 18th birthday (about one month ago).
And I was terrified when, two weeks after I turned 18, she told me that I needed to either find and land a full time job or move out by that Friday, and then I was shaken when that Friday she was basically like "lul kidding" and then terrified again when she repeated the same thing again, and I wish that this wasn't happening and that I had some semblance of some sort of family somewhere else or something but I don't and I'm terrified.
And I'm pretty certain that any replies will be "lol suck it up" and "you should sell your horse" but great freaking green giant, I just... AUGHRSKVSIRALSD
(*cue regret at writing/posting said rant*)
The hills were bathed in moonlight, the shadows not so stark;
Silver light reflected off his brown hide as he held me in the dark
– I love you, Mudpie!