Pigs in a poke

There are no guarantees with colic surgery. Even with the best of care, a lot of horses don't make it.

I've known so many who didn't make it.

When Dr Williams made the first incision on Olive's belly, I figured her odds were fifty fifty at best.

After she survived the surgery, I started worrying about recovery. My college roommate's horse, Tim, broke a leg coming out of anesthesia and had to be euthanized. That was more than thirty years ago, and it's less common for that to happen now. Still, I knew we weren't out of the woods.

I really didn't start to breath until the second post op day. That's when Olive was finally Olive again, and I realized - kind of belatedly - that she was going to come home. I needed a place to put her.

That space needed to be small and secure, without access to a run. Olive's regular home, with its doorless stall-to-run configuration, was out. Although I might have been able to rig up a whole bunch of stall guards, I didn't trust those to contain a pony with a history of jumping out of unsatisfactory spaces.

A more secure stall was in order. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to find one.

Three days after Olive's surgery, I drove to Kenlyn to check out the offerings in the Show Barn.

It's really full in there right now, but there were two empty spots. One of them didn't have a run and was located right next to the pig.

It's literally the stall no one wants.

For Olive, it was perfect.

We moved her in one week ago today. She's never lived in an enclosed stall, and I was expecting some sort of protest. 

So far, that hasn't happened. Just the opposite, in fact. Olive has been her usual, sweet self.

Father's Day with the family

It might be the really dedicated care schedule I've been keeping, or perhaps the hot weather which always brings her down a couple notches.

All of these things are possible, but I'm crediting the pig.

Thanks, Nutmeg! My pony and I love you!