I know that many, many people are concerned about Bruno and anxious to know what’s happening and what actually happened. I deeply appreciate everyone’s thoughts, prayers, words and expression of love. I write this for all of you, and for Bruno.
Tuesday morning I am waiting on Baby Girl to finish getting ready for school. She is eating breakfast and watching YouTube Kids. I wander out to the back room of our house to take a peek at the ponies. I see Bruno laying down and my immediate thought is “this is an odd time for him to be laying down.” It’s 7 am. Feeding will happen in about an hour. He should be standing by the gate, waiting. So I watch for a minute and it looks like he’s itching his belly. Then it seems like he tries to get up, and can’t. So I say to Baby Girl that I’m going to go outside for a minute.
As I edge around the side of the house I hear him nicker to me. He knows I am coming. He looks back but he doesn’t get up. I start to run. When I get to him at first I don’t see what the problem is and I’m frantically searching for the reason he’s still laying down. Then I see it. The front right leg bent at an odd angle. The swelling above and all around the knee. Bruno isn’t panicking though, in fact he’s downright calm. As if he’s saying to me “Hey I did a little something stupid and I need some help.”
My phone locks up and won’t work. He might not be panicking but I am. I am trying to call Tony and finally it goes through. Hello? he asks a bit bemusedly. After all, he thinks I’m inside the house. I need you, I say, it’s Bruno. Come NOW. He doesn’t even hang up before he’s running. I try calling our regular vet. He can’t come, he says, he is tied up in the clinic all day. I call Weems and Stephens – and it goes to voicemail. I am trying to stay calm but inside I am floundering.
Tony gets to me. Bruno hears him coming and gets awkwardly to his feet while I hold onto his halter. His front right leg is dangling. Get the trailer NOW I say to Tony. We have to get him to Weems immediately. Tony’s immediate reaction is Oh Shit. He goes off to get his keys and the truck. I call my neighbor trainer, Rene, and she is thirty minutes away. Solving the problem she immediately calls the barn worker next door and he is on his way to help. I have no idea how we’re going to get him in the trailer but I see Daniel pick up a strap from our flat bed trailer and I’m glad he has a plan.
I keep talking to Bruno and hugging his neck. You’re going to be ok, I tell him. You’re going to be fine. I know it probably isn’t true. But I am lying to myself and to him. I can’t handle the truth at this moment. Tony gets the trailer as close to the gate as possible and lets down the ramp. We look at each other and each send a prayer up. We know what’s at stake here. Go get Baby Girl I tell him. She has to be here. She can’t go to school anyway, at this point, as we have no idea what is going to happen. Once she’s with us, she stands by silently with big eyes as Tony and Daniel put the strap around Bruno and encourage him, step by hop, to get into the trailer. It’s a ramp so we have the best shot at getting him in there. He willingly moves a hop or two and then stops. Come on buddy I tell him. You HAVE to do this. He’s such a good natured little guy that it’s not as hard as you would expect it to be. He’s finally in and the guys put the strap around his belly and hook it to each side of the trailer to give him support. I stay in the back and hold his halter as we drive slowly to the road.
He never once even attempts to put weight on that foot. He is fully aware that he can’t. There is nothing on the outside of his leg to suggest ANYTHING. No dirt. No mud. No cut. No indentation. No NOTHING. A grass stain on his knee is all that is different from the night before. We can’t imagine how on earth he has done this, but as I watch his leg swing in the trailer I know without a doubt that it is broken. Maybe it isn’t, I silently say to myself. Maybe it’s just extremely hurt and it will eventually get better. But it swings side to side and I just close my eyes and keep praying.
The trailer ride is rough but we make it to Weems. I’ve called ahead and they’re expecting us. A lovely lady called Karina looks in the trailer. Maybe we should just x-ray it in there? Then more forcefully – we’re just going to x-ray it in the trailer. A crowd of vet techs gather as they pull the machine over to the trailer. What have you given him already they ask? Just bute I say. I had run to get it while Tony held his head, before he brought the trailer over. As the first x-ray pops up on the screen I can’t help but gasp. The bone has separated from itself. It’s literally in two pieces, and one piece has shifted to the outside. No skin is broken, however. Which means we are VERY LUCKY. The crowd confers as Baby Girl cries into Tony’s side. They tell me that their surgeon is out of town but they are going to call around and see if they can find someone willing to try, who has the right equipment. Because he’s so small, he has a chance.
I’ll do whatever he needs, I tell them. I’ll even drive to A&M. If someone can do the surgery then that’s what we’re going to do. Give us a few minutes to send these x-rays out they say. Tony and I lock eyes again. There is no way we’re going to let this pony die if there is any chance to save him. Tony says “road trip” and I say absolutely. Wherever we need to go. But the point is he really can’t travel too far. Some vet techs bring some pieces of PVC pipe and about twenty rolls of elasticon and they get to work stabilizing his leg. When they’re done I’m plenty impressed. An A rated pony clubber couldn’t have done it better.
Finally the one in charge comes to me and says “do you know the place up in Tioga? Off of 377? Dr. Bottoni (Dr. Tony) is willing to take this on.” Yes I say, Mid South Equine. I’ve been there before to take advantage of their salt water therapy. That’s where we headed. Karina, the nurse? follows us with the radiographs (I think) but I don’t know this until we have to stop on the side of the road on the way there to readjust the strap around Bruno’s belly. He’s holding up well, and his spirits are good. I’m holding his head and Tony is driving as slowly as he can. I guess he has his hazards on but I don’t know for sure. When we stop Karina comes around the side of the trailer asking if we need help. I see that it’s her and all of a sudden I feel both relieved and extremely worried. This is obviously a very big deal.
When we arrive at Mid South Equine the surgeon comes out to take a look and she says we have to stabilize the leg EVEN MORE in order to get him out of the trailer. Another PVC half pipe is brought out and duct tape. Yep. Duct tape. If it moves and it shouldn’t…. well…. you know the rest. Anyway, we get him off the trailer slowly and into his stall. He’s obviously relieved to be somewhere safe. The surgeon explains to me that if Bruno were any bit bigger that they wouldn’t even attempt this surgery. That if the bone had protruded outside the skin that they wouldn’t attempt it. So we’re very lucky already and I begin to feel a small shred of hope. Bruno himself helps me to feel better as he is bright eyed and alert even amongst what must be some terrible pain.
They are ordering plates which have to come from Weatherford. So they don’t know if the surgery will be that same day or first thing in the morning. They send us home for the day to wait for news. Baby Girl doesn’t want to go to school and I don’t make her. Remarkably it’s only been about an hour and a half. It feels like half a lifetime.
Stay tuned for part 2 tomorrow…..
I think I held my breathe as I read all this.