Drifter is Dead

Friday the 13th. Not a good day. Drifter was euthanized this morning for a twisted bowel.

When I went out to feed the birds I noticed Drifter down on his brisket near the fence. Balthazar and Dakota were standing with him, licking his eyes. I stopped feeding the birds and went to get a halter. Colic. I didn't notice his eyes until I was next to him. Worse, much worse, than I thought. Dropped the halter and finished feeding the birds. He was sitting quietly, not thrashing so I had time.

When I slipped the halter on and asked him to get up he did, wobbly and shaking, hind legs spread for balance. I gradually led him over to the gate so the other horses could go out and then we made our slow way back to the yard gate. Thought if he was going to go over then best he go over on the softer ground of the yard. Richard rang Laidley vets. Talked to Kerri. Too busy to come. I came in and rang Gatton (Exclusively Equine) and spoke to Gemma, a vet I haven't met before. Told her what was happening and she said she'd come.

While we waited I kept Drifter away from obstacles in case he went down but he didn't try. He was sweating and shaking. He had haematomas under his chest where he'd struck himself and one eye was nearly swollen shut. The other eye had pus in it. The skin around both eyes on the orbital bones was raw and hairless.

The sad thing is I couldn't sleep last night and heard a horse trotting in the paddock making that rhythmic snuffling sound a horse makes when it's relaxed at the trot. I should've gone to investigate but figured that snuffling sound, and the fact it was only one horse, meant things were okay. I did look out the laundry door and saw one horse, I don't know who, standing quietly in the moonlight. Perhaps if I'd gone to check, he'd be alive.

Gemma came with Nicole as offsider. Led Drifter, dear compliant Drifter, through the stone walk past the bird bath to the driveway. Gemma took his vital signs. Heartrate 76, almost no gut sounds, the pelvic muscles along his spine hard. He was sweating and shivering. After she took his parameters she gave him drugs for pain and mild sedation so that she could tube him with Timpanyl, Lectade (he was dehydrated) and paraffin oil. Before that she did a rectal exam to see if she could detect an obstruction. There was none but she suspected it was more cranial (small bowel) as there was very little manure in his rectum and it was covered with mucous indicating that it had been sitting there for awhile.

When she tubed him there was reflux. He never got the tympanyl or parrafin. Quite a bit of crap was coming back through the tube. She asked would we consider surgery. No, Drifter had Cushings, he was 21 and I didn't want to put him through it, especially as it isn't always successful and it costs a great deal of money. That sounds harsh but with an older horse who has Cushings his life expectancy wasn't great anyway. The drugs were making no difference. I took his heartrate. It had only come down to 72 even with the second lot of pain relief. He was foaming sweat between his ears. His muscles were jerking and shivering. Sweat darkened his neck and withers and hips. He was in so much pain and I couldn't bear to let him suffer. If she went away without him feeling better than he would only suffer until I could get her back again. I asked her to put him down. She did. I held him, kissed him. He was brave and a gentleman through the entire process, even the rectal. Drifter was a gentle soul and although he did suffer and suffered for many hours, his suffering ended,

We've dragged his body into the dressage arena. The backhoe will come this afternoon to bury him. It's always the same with a dead body of someone you love. Drifter is gone, only that beautiful red shell remains. Came in and heard Eliza's Aria by that Australian female composer whose name escapes me. It was beautiful and so fiting to have that play as his requiem. I imagined him galloping free, mane and tail flying in the wind, no human on his back, just the wind on his white-blazed face and long green grass whipping around his legs. Free and young and strong.