Too Little / Too Big

Too Big

Too Little







 
















    Last evening, when I came home, two related problems that I've been worrying over (but doing nothing about) finally were put squarely in front of me to deal with.  Both problems center around the horses.  Raleigh, our horseshoer, came to trim their feet yesterday.  She's wonderful at what she does with the horses' feet, but we also have the kind of relationship where I'm comfortable asking her opinion on how they are doing, and she's honest and forthright in her answers.  Her honest and forthright answer yesterday was:  Sarah is too thin and Corny is waaaaay too fat. 

    Of course, I'm not blind and have been watching this unfold and trying to deal with it (sort of) all summer long.  But now it's time to really do something about both situations.  Raleigh said so, and I'm grateful to her for that.



Sarah, impatiently wanting her dinner



Sarah is thin because she's 31 years old and has bad teeth.  Three years ago we brought her to the vet clinic to have the points on her teeth filed down (this is called "floating the teeth" in horsey vernacular).  She had an extremely bad reaction to the sedation and fell over in massive convulsions.  As I watched her thrash around on the ground, I thought she was going to die.  The vet managed to get out of it, but I decided that I would never put her through this again. 

    Now she has a lump on her jaw and we suspect another sharp tooth may be the culprit.  We'll be calling the vet out to take a look.  I'm not sure what we'll do if it is a tooth causing the problem.  Maybe there's a different sedative he can use.  Maybe it's not a tooth causing the lump at all (but I think it is).  Maybe we'll have to make the decision to put her down.  Lots of maybes.  She's also very stiff and arthritic and has been gradually declining for years now -- Sarah simply suffers from being old.  That said, she still loves me to scratch her belly and rub the back of her ears.  I've been keeping my eye on her and it seems like she still enjoys being alive.

    To be honest, I wish that one morning I would go outside and simply find that Sarah had peacefully slipped into death during the night.  However, this hasn't happened and it's time to see what must be done. 



Look at that pretty face!



Sarah loves her Equine Senior



We give Sarah as much food as she'll eat. 

Twice a day, she gets 2 1/2 scoops of Equine Senior and a flake of alfalfa hay.  She eats slowly, but eventually chows most of it down. 



Fat Boy



    Corny, on the other hand, is a pig.   He always puts on weight in the springtime when the grass comes in, so he began the year plump and has grown fatter with each passing month. I exercised him a few times, but then stopped.  No excuses, other than I got busy with other things over the summer and put it off so many times that eventually I gave up on doing it at all.  And now, to my horror and dismay, Raleigh tells me he's turned into a blimp.  And something must be done.  Immediately.

   





    I'd unrealistically hoped that by feeding him separately from Sarah and limiting the amount and type of hay he got, he wouldn't put on too much weight.  No such luck.  Horses with metabolisms like Corny's are called "air ferns" after those plants that manage to suck nutrients out of the air.  Corny can pack on the pounds eating two small flakes of grass hay a day.  Even with this tiny amount, I'm overfeeding the boy.



Corny stuffing down his few meager scraps of hay



   

    So, thanks to his stern Auntie Raleigh, Cornelius has just become the charter (and only) member of the Frogpond Fat Farm.  This morning, bright and early, he started his new exercise and feeding regimen. 

He is not amused.

Tomorrow:   Corny's New Life: The Nightmare Begins!