Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

Today is August 5th, 2006 - the third Birth Day of Lanna. Happy Birth Day, Lanna, as you begin your third life!

I’m sure you can guess by now that Lanna is a horse. Of course! Lanna is a 2400-pound Belgian mare who delivered Jeri-Ann to us on May 1st, 2005. Lanna is a 7 year old blind mare and today is the day that marks the start of her third life.

What? Is your forehead wrinkled in confusion? Are you convinced that I’ve lost “it”? I don’t think I have, but to be sure, you need to read on…

Last Friday morning began as most hot and humid mornings have begun around here. Getting fresh water set up. Picking every possible piece out of the barns to minimize the flies. Feeding. Setting up fans and doors to minimize the sun’s heat but maximize the airflow.

The only thing different last Friday morning was Lanna. She was lying in the barn. She looked okay, but it was peculiar and so I kept one eye on her during the entire feeding process. Just a concerned caretaker watching for any telltale signs that one of her charges may be in trouble.

It was time to feed the Helen Keller side of the barn (of which Lanna is a member) and so I opened the gate. Lanna got herself up and it seemed to me that when she did so, she appeared a bit “heavy”…or maybe I was just looking too hard for something…? So, I continued my routine all the while watching her big body out of the corner of my eye.

I hooked her to feed her and gave her a flake of hay. She turned her head. Now I know. Lanna is in trouble, for sure.


You see, Lanna is a younger version of April – a hoover. Lanna eats everything around her. After eating, when I unhook her, she will cruise the barn and check out the other feeders just looking for a missed morsel. And so for her to turn her face away from hay was a definite sign of a mare in trouble.

She stood while the others ate and I, likewise, stood in the center of the barn and observed everything I could. Her hind legs were out behind her – she was, in a way, parked. Her head was low. Her breathing seemed a bit faster than normal. She was a bit damp but I could attribute that to the humidity and 80 degrees at 6am. I watched.

When the barn was completed with their breakfasts, I began the process of unhooking everyone. And when I unhooked Lanna she went straight to the center of the barn and lay down. Really not too gracefully, either. She just kind of plunked herself down. She laid on her left side to the count of 10. Then she was up and plunked herself down on her right side.

I was already moving to the telephone when I saw that she started to roll. Colic. Lanna was showing sure signs of colic.

I did my best to remain calm. I have experienced both medical and surgical colic on THE FARM. I don’t like either of them. Surgical colic had taken Francis Andrew. Medical colic had taken DukeDuke. Colic is spooky and fast and painful and often times fatal.

The telephone call was placed and I haltered my big Lanna and up she was. And then off we were. Walking. We must walk. If it was gas or a blockage, we needed things to move and the best way to get this “thing” that was painful in her to move was to get her to walk. Walk. Walk. Walk.

All the while her head was down, but she walked with me. Slowly behind me. She did not stop or pull back. But she did not really care about the other horses that came up to the fence to greet her. Or the traffic that whipped by us. She just walked.

Ninety minutes later the vet arrived. We listened to her heartbeat that was at 50 – a bit accelerated. She should be somewhere between 30 and 40. Her small intestines were giving off some good sounds, but the large intestines were pretty quiet. An exam found a small pocket of gas but no telltale turns or signs of a twist. Her gums were pale but she did have a refill time.

Pain meds were administered and a tube was put in to her stomach to give her water – none of which she gave back. In a way, that was good. Brown, icky fluids coming out of her tummy would have said a twist had already occurred and her systems were backing up. But no fluids came back at us.

While the tube was in her, a half-gallon of mineral oil was administered. This did nothing medically for Lanna, but it would be a marker for me. If there was not a blockage, I should see an oily manure appear out of her in 24 hours or so. The oil coming out would tell us that the path was open all the way through.

The vet left. By 4:30 that afternoon I was back on the phone to him. No poop. No urine. I’m worried. Head isn’t too low, but that’s the meds working. His advice? “Walk her, Sandy. The best medicine for her now is to walk her.”

We walked. For 2 ½ hours straight, we walked. We walked until her hind feet were dragging. We walked until my legs were numb and I’m sure her legs were aching. By 7pm, I put her in the corral with fresh water and fresh grass and told her that I needed a shower and I’d be back, as ordered, every 2 hours to walk her some more.

Well, I couldn’t wait for 2 hours, so I spent the night walking her about every 90 minutes. Needless to say, by midnight, Lanna wasn’t really pleased to hear me coming to get her!

At 1pm, she was lying down and rolling when I came out for her next walk. Another vet visit. More meds. Keep the walking going, Sandy. Her heartbeat was still around 50 and yes, she was tired, but if this colic was not surgical – if we could fix it – she needed to walk.

By 8:30am, we must have walked 6 miles together. I put her in a makeshift stall in the barn where she could hear everyone and hear the horses around her. She had water and a small fan. And she could pace a bit but not lay down. Movement was good for her. All the right supports in place. But minimal, tiny poop during the day. And no oil.

At 6pm on Saturday, we started our routine. As we walked, I told her that I didn’t know that Tingley rubbers on my barn shoes could be quite so heavy! And as we passed Jerry, the Roan Horse, I asked him to stop calling to her. I wanted Lanna around me for a little while more. These past 2 years had turned her in to a gentle giant and she had much loving to give and to get. So, Jerry, just leave her alone for a while. Okay? Please?

The rain started around midnight. Our first walk in the rain was kind of fun. The second walk in the rain wasn’t so much fun. By the third walk in the rain, neither of us was pleased! At about 2am, as we turned the corner to head down the driveway, Lanna stopped. I had figured this would happen pretty soon. Pretty soon she would just stop and say, “No more walking, Mama! I’m tired!”

But instead of complaining, she stopped and I heard the noise I had been praying for! Plop. Plop. Plop-plop. Lanna pooped! And it was Lanna size (big!) and it was oily!

The flashlight in my hind pocket that I had been carrying around for 2 nights now came in to good use. I could see the results of all of this walking and there it was in my driveway! A fresh, oily, half-a-wheelbarrow-full pile of horse manure! Hurray!

I threw my arms around her neck and thanked her! I thanked Jerry! And I sang Happy Birth Day to Lanna!


So today, August 5th, 2006, begins Lanna’s third life. Her second life, I selfishly think, was begun that day two years ago when I loaded her in to my trailer. Then last Friday, she spent a bit of time thinking about moving on. Then in the early hours of August 5th, 2006, Lanna decided to stay and so her third life began!

So just how will be celebrate this victory? This win? This beating of that infernal colic? Both of us will rest! And we certainly will not go for a walk!!!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and Birth-Day-Girl-Lanna and the Herd