Taco the Crack Addict

I think my horse is addicted to pain killers.

That is the only explanation. Wednesday morning I went to the barn and she could not walk (same lame leg as this Fall) -- literally -- could not walk. For those of you who do not know, a limping or "dead-lame" horse is far less mobile than a lame or sore dog or cat. Hell, those guys live full and active lives with only three legs. Horses with three legs fall over. So she is as lame as it gets -- can't walk. I feed her and go to work -- call Jim almost as soon as I get there and tell him the story. He promises to go to the barn and check on her. When he gets there she is laying down and won't move (NEVER a good sign). So he calls Sal. Sal says call the vet. He calls Doc Cooper (I want to BE Doc Cooper some day). I leave school for a couple of hours (thank you student teacher Jess) so I can go to the barn and meet Doc Cooper. He kicks her in the butt and back as I pull on her halter and we get her up -- she will put no weight on that leg. He tries to check out that leg and she won't really let him. He tranquilizes her. Then she lets him. He looks EVERYWHERE -- all over. He hoof tests her. He pokes and prods and NOTHING. He can find nothing. Tells me my next bet is to trailer her to Monmouth to get her X-Rayed (shyeah, right -- he does not know Taco in a trailer, nor does he know my not-so-much-a-trust-funder money situation). I ask him a ton of questions and tell him my plan -- to ice her twice a day like I did this past fall. I buy some Bute from him (pain pills for horses -- yes, horse pills are as large as you imagine), pay the bill (which was not too bad considering he drove to the barn and I bought $30 worth of meds) and say goodbye. I head back to work. As soon as I am out of my last meeting, I go straight to the barn. She is about the same. I get the ice packs, ice her, crush pain pills (with a hammer : ) in her grain, hang with her for 20 minutes while she is icing and then head to Farmtown for the night. This morning I get up at 5 and put on warm clothes -- stop for coffee at the Mother Ship Irving and head to the barn. I was afraid for what I would see. Would she be laying down? Had she been down all night? What would I find? I get into the barn and roll the door open; she is not in there. Shit, I think. I walk out to the pasture and look left. There she is -- looking for me at the gate. Huh, I think. I call her name and she walks toward me BARELY EVEN LIMPING!!! I am relieved and a little dumbfounded that there is little evidence of the day before and its tribulations. I get her grain -- crush more pain pills -- feed her and ask her if she has a problem with pain pills. Is she a junkie? She just eats her grain and looks around innocently and I decide to table the question. After work this afternoon, I went to see her -- again she was well. No more pain pills in her grain, just another icing session (I Ace bandage a gel pack to her leg) and wait the 20 minutes, talk with her and tell her to be careful. I head out hoping that when I head to the barn tomorrow and see her first thing that she will be the Taco I saw today. I am hoping...

I seriously cannot figure it out. She might be the BIGGEST baby I have ever met -- I cannot think of another explanation. And a vet who has been doing it for 57 years had no idea what ailed her either. Or...she is loving the pain pills.

I think it's the drugs. Pain pills and tranquilizers. She is no fool.