A Horse’s Awful Scar

Posted in: Featured, Horse Care, Ranch Life

Long ago, the cowboss and I were riding together one day and we were checking over some fences,
checking water gaps, and water, or lack of, on the far south end of the ranch. As we came to a gate leading into the last pasture, a little bunch of horses spotted us and came trotting up to the fence. They were in good shape and had come through the winter just fine. The cowboss, Dan, was glad to see how one particular horse was doing, as the horse was nearing his mid-20s.
Colonel was a tall, sorrel gelding with lots of white on his face and legs and I could see he had been a fine looking individual in his day. When old Colonel turned away to the left, though, I saw a scar on him
that made me catch my breath. It started several inches above where the soft hide of his flank attached and disappeared in a forward direction toward his mid-belly area. It was a horrible scar, several inches wide for a ways, with puckers and scar tissue raised up on it, and about a foot and a half long as best I could see. I asked Dan what in the world had happened to the horse. So, he told me.

When Colonel was probably six or seven he thought, Dan had ridden him down to get a bull that needed to be brought to the corrals. It was many miles to where the bull was, so Dan left early and planned to make a day of the job. The bull was found and they started back. Of course the bull didn’t want to leave the cows or the pasture, but wasn’t too hard to handle. He was a mature Hereford bull that for some reason had never had his horns weighted so they’d curve down. But, like most Hereford bulls on the ranch, he was pretty quiet.
It started getting hot, but Dan wanted to try to get the bull at least to a pasture closer to headquarters so he could get the bull in the corral the following day. So, he and Colonel kept trailing along as the bull
got increasingly sullen and cranky.
About halfway there, they needed to go through a gate. So, Dan rode out around the bull and opened
the gate while the bull stood and waited. They got the bull started moving again, but then, for whatever
reason that bulls have, he decided that he was not going to go through that gate. Back and forth they
fought him, with the bull crowding Colonel harder and harder with each turn. He finally butted Colonel
out of his way and went by. Colonel caught himself without falling and they caught up and turned the bull again. After several more short, fast sprints and turns, the bull finally gave up and went through the gate.
Keeping his eye on the bull, Dan got off to shut the gate. Colonel wouldn’t lead forward. Dan turned
to see what Colonel’s deal was, and instantly saw the problem. Colonel’s intestines were hanging out. One loop was actually dragging on the ground between Colonel’s hind legs.
Horrified, Dan didn’t know what to do. Colonel was looking at him expectantly, though, so after
examining the situation for a moment, Dan loosened his cinches enough to pull his saddle blanket out
from under his saddle. He laid it on the ground at his feet and bending over, started gathering up the arm load of guts that were hanging out. The wound was a horrible gash and hanging wide open. Dan pushed the cleanest part of the guts into the cavity. Then, using the saddle blanket as a big bandage, he got the rest held up tight against Colonel and using the back cinch, tightened it enough to hold it there.
All this time Colonel hadn’t moved once. Dave then used his rope to wrap around and around Colonel’s belly to hold everything together tight. He’d done the best he could for Colonel, but he didn’t hold out much hope of saving him.
Because the rough pasture made it hard to get to where they were, Dan started leading Colonel to where he could come back and get him with the trailer. He crossed the last creek after over a mile of slow walking and resting, then he left Colonel and hurried the remaining miles home, running part of the time, which is no small feat for a cowboy wearing boots.
When he got to the house, he called the vet who was over 50 miles away and said he’d be bringing
Colonel in if he was still alive when he got back to him. Then, little bumper pull trailer in tow, he started
back down a trail road, then across the prairie, to where he’d left Colonel.
Colonel was still standing when Dan got to him, and readily loaded in the trailer. Dan drove as carefully as he could back to the ranch, then the long gravel road journey to town was made. Colonel was still on his feet when he got to the vet’s office. They led him inside and unwrapped Dan’s rope and stripped the saddle and bloody saddle blanket off the mess.
After Colonel was sedated, the vet let the part that Dan had stuffed back inside slide out, then washed
it all very carefully with a hose. They picked grass and gravel out of the coils and when they had it as
clean as possible, and inspected for tears and holes, he started putting it all back in the best order he could with Dan helping hold it. Dan said that he used some sort of powder antiseptic liberally as he did so.

Then, with it all back inside, he started stitching. Dan held it all inside as each layer was stitched carefully. Colonel stayed on his feet through the whole ordeal, and was probably appreciating the numbing injections that the vet used.
The vet was a good cow vet and an adequate horse vet for normal injuries and ailments, so he didn’t
hold out much hope that Colonel would live through the night. The five or six hours from injury to
treatment had allowed bacteria to set up in the dirty wound, plus the stress and shock had taken their toll. Pumped full of antibiotics and given small chance to live, Colonel was left at the vet’s.
By the next day, Colonel’s guts were functioning properly, he had a fever but not bad, and was eating
and drinking. A glimmer of hope was there. In a few more days, the vet had Dan take him home with
more shots and medicine to give for a while.
Dan doctored him for months. The outside stitches didn’t all hold really well, but the inside ones did,
so nothing fell back out. A big bandage kept it clean and kept the flies out, and Dan said that Colonel
looked like he was wearing a girdle. By winter it had healed up enough that hair had grown back on most
of it.
After a year or so turned out to finish healing, Dan started riding Colonel again. The horse never had an off day in all the ensuing years, and was still taking care of himself on winter pasture into his golden years. Dan said that he thought that Colonel was the toughest horse he’d ever known. I don’t know as I’ve ever heard of a tougher one myself.

scar

Posted in: Featured, Horse Care, Ranch Life


About Jan Swan Wood

Jan was raised on a ranch in far western South Dakota. She grew up horseback working all descriptions of cattle, plus sheep and horses. After leaving home she pursued a post-graduate study of cowboying and dayworking in Nebraska, New Mexico, Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota....

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