01/29/2026
Veterinarians and our staff are a superstitious lot. If you’ve spent much time around us, you know this. There are certain things you just don’t say. It’s quiet today. The schedule is light. I should get out of here on time today. Look at that pretty vein. It’s just a simple neuter.
Yesterday afternoon, one of the humane organizations I do work for (and really really like) asked me to fill out a few things for a grant they applied to, as their veterinarian. Certainly! They asked how often did I see these folks, and what type of appointments were they. The overwhelming majority are of course preventative care - dentistry, vaccines, microchips, coggins - with some lameness, metabolic, and dermatological issues mixed in because that’s what we see a lot of in neglected horses.
I commented in the paragraph portion that actually, due to good husbandry and safe facilities, we didn’t actually do a lot of emergency calls on this facilities horses. In fact, I couldn’t think of a lot of lacerations I had seen that weren’t associated with new intakes and often happen involving transport. Pretty normal stuff. Just put that out in the universe.
Rookie mistake.
Enter this little roan dude. He’s got quite the tale. He was seized by a different “humane” organization (who was by all accounts pretty terrible, but that’s a story for another day, and I promise I’ll share it when the time is right) and was in their care for two weeks, where he lost a significant amount of weight. He was thin at the time of surrender (body condition 2/9), but by the time we got him out of there (I had to strong arm them to get this group when we did, as they wanted to hold them for 4 more weeks, and they already had enough red flags that I didn’t think that was at all in the horse’s best interest) he had dropped to a 1/9. Despite some of the reasons he was taken from his owner being poor condition, hoof neglect, and dental neglect, no hoof or dental care had been provided in their care, and he was decidedly worse off.
He arrived originally to my place, and was turned out to my quarantine pasture with several others. He promptly choked. ON GRASS. That’s a first. Then he did it again. Poor guy hadn’t seen grass in who knows how long and couldn’t handle it apparently.
We shifted him to a different foster, who could keep him off grass and do a proper refeeding protocol. He’s a cantankerous old thing, and despite being in such awful shape, is now up to a body condition 3/9 and is really a bit of a handful for an old man.
And yesterday, I put out in the universe that lacerations (outside of new intakes) just aren’t a thing with this humane organization. And this little roan beast said hold my beer.
In the herd he’s been in for a month, with a routine that is pretty well set, he came into the barn for dinner. Maybe someone made an ugly face at him and he tried to get away. Maybe he was just feeling fresh and tripped while being silly.
We know where it happened. We know when it happened. It was witnessed. But the how still remains a bit of a mystery. In second the wheelbarrow was toppled and he was on the ground. And then the injury became apparent.
The panicked call came in, from a woman who just doesn’t panic. “Chester ripped his ear off. It’s just… dangling there.”
On my way.
He marched to his stall and started scavenging the scraps of his breakfast like nothing was wrong, leaving a trail of blood everywhere. “Should I feed him?”
Ain’t no way I’m dropping him in his condition. Gonna have to do this standing. Let him eat if he wants.
He cleaned up his bucket and wanted more. Foster mom struggling to hold it together as he demands he’s being under fed.
It was less blood loss than I expected for a head wound. I’ve seen much worse. The ear and ear canal were fully intact, but starting at midline and working outward, this fool has somehow half scalped himself. Complete with ripping the muscle off his skull so hard there were bone fragments in the muscle that had ripped away. Plus a few minor bone fragments just in front of the ear we had to clean up.
He wasn’t the easiest patient, and I utilized a twitch so I didn’t have to sedate him as heavily as I needed to, but he still chose to be a bulldozer a few times. More than an hour of figuring out what piece went where and putting them carefully back together, multiple layers, lots of suture, lots of staples, and the cosmetics look damn fine.
And Chester? This morning he was demanding breakfast like he hadn’t eaten in a week.
