Dangers at Both Ends

Winner, Foot in Mouth Category
Jenny Heath, Mississippi State University

An unrelated, yet adorable, picture of our story's hero holding a cotton top tamarin monkey while on externship in Jackson, MS.It was a dark and stormy night in the equine corridors.  The time…3 A.M.

An exhausted vet student is trudging outside in the darkness. She is trying to reach the outer grounds of the complex, set on her mission. (Yes, this is already playing out like Jurassic Park in my mind. Just go with it.)

As she finally reaches the top of the hill, a long line of dim musty stalls greets her. It is very dark and deserted, the kind of quiet that you can only find in the dead of night, when even the owls have started to sleep. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the animals themselves seem to sense the impending danger that looms on the horizon. They jitter and snort, stamping their hooves and tossing their manes in a nervous frustration.

The student walks cautiously, every nerve in her body suddenly hyperaware of her surroundings. She is alone, tired, and unexpectedly frightened here in the shadows. She fumbles for the light switch on a long metal post. It clicks up with a loud snap, and after a moment there is a fluttering and flickering of light above her. The bulbs are dim as they try to warm up, and she peers through the faint rays into the pitch black courtyard beside her. There is nothing but stillness. Occasionally a rusty gate creaks in the wind that is blowing in from the distant storm. The eeriness is astounding, and the student shakes herself a little, trying to rid the nervousness that has begun to seep into her bones much like her equine companions.

Have a painted a scary enough picture for you yet? Hmmm? Well get ready cause it’s about to get REAL.

She trails alongside the doors to the stalls, peering in at their tenants. In her hand is a large syringe full of a gritty-like goo that smells strongly of molasses. It is time for treatments, and the recipient of this lovely mixture?

Good ole Honey. The raging she-mare herself.

For clarification’s sake it is prudent for me to tell you that Honey suffered from a Granulosa Theca Cell Tumor. Meaning, that this ’mare’ was no lady. She thought she was a big hoss stallion and oh Lord did she ever show it.

The student reaches Honey’s stall. The mare is already kicking and snorting at another horse beside her. It makes the student’s stomach drop a little but she shrugs it off. She has been in this stall many times before and Honey has never harmed her. Other horses? Oooooo she’d tear them up if she could. But humans seemed to be no problem.

That was until our 3 A.M rendezvous.

Yes this student is me of course. I slide open the door and call out in a soft voice, trying to coax her away from the bars where she is angrily cresting at the other horse. She turns and spots me, ears perked up, and I stupidly think to myself  ‘all is well’. So I take a step forward. Ears back. I return to my position. The ears come forward. Step up. Ears back. The dance this mare and I are playing-- it ain’t no salsa I can tell you.  But I HAVE to get this syringe in. Oh the dern molasses. To this day I still can’t stand the smell after that rotation. It has probably scarred me forever.

So I’m standing there, squaring off with this monstrosity. And I think “C’mon now Jenny. You just gotta buck up and do it. She can sense your fear and you need to show her you’re not afraid. It’s time to man up fo sho.”

So I keep canoodling. I coax and I talk sweet and finally she turns and walks near to me. Oh yeah… smooth operator right here. The things that make you happy in vet school *facepalm*.  Finally after what seems like ages I am by her side and petting her coat. She seems relaxed enough and I am not rushing this cause I don’t want to startle her anymore. Her ears are neither forward nor back, and she is pretty disinterested with the whole situation. Winner winner chicken dinner.

And then it happens. My God I’ve never seen a creature move so fast. One minute I’m standing there breathing a sigh of relief and the next instant her teeth are at my stomach in a blinding fury. Have you ever felt a horse’s teeth on your arm? Hurts doesn’t it? Well imagine those dentures of doom tearing at your soft underbelly. I thought she had disemboweled me. And lightening quick before I could even react she got that big neck of hers under me and I rocketed into the far wall. Flying in the air like some acrobatic. Home alone eat your heart out.

Macaulay Culkin ain’t got nothing on me. I flew probably twenty feet wider than those thieves did in the movies. I hit that wall so hard the air left my lungs in a great whoosh. And when my body finally slid down into the dirty sawdust I monkey crawled as fast as my legs would carry me out of that stall, Honey nipping at my heels all the way like some mad woman. Molasses and TMS all down my side like some intense war wound.

Holy hogwash Batman I’ve never been so afraid. And that’s when the sky opens up above me. The torrential downpour is blinding as I run like some terrified schoolgirl back into the corridors and up to our technician.  I look like a hot mess and tears are spilling forth from my eyes in great cascades.  All I can manage are some broken words and blubbering. But Colleen gets the picture. “Oh no, darlin’ we won’t let this fly,” She barks at me, grabbing a bucket full of feed. “C’mon, we’ll sort that temper out.”

Guts of steel Colleen has. She’d square off with any horse any day and not bat an eye. We pull up in the rickety truck and Colleen stomps up to the stall were Honey is waiting all sunshine and rainbows. The little liar. But when she gets in there the mare starts to show her true colors.  I’m standing as far as I can from the stall, completely horrified and all I can hear are the shouts of my tech and the snorting of Honey as she paws the ground angrily. Finally Colleen gets the harness on her. She walks her out from the stall and glares at me hard.

Here’s kinda how our conversation went:

Colleen: “I need you to come here and feed this horse.”

Me: *Inaudible wailing*

Colleen: “Stop crying. Get over here girl and let this horse eat from your hand. You gotta show her whose’s boss and that you aren’t afraid of her.”

Me: *wailing*  “BUT I AAAAM!!” *hiccup hiccup, blubber blubber*

Colleen: “You better come over here. NOW.”

And so I walk over and grab a handful of feed. I’m shaking like crazy and my hand is quivering as I hold it, palm up, for the horse to sniff. As her chin hairs glide over my hand, I am a veritable ball of terror. Dear Lord I’ve become terrified of chin hairs now. Big fat tear globs are rolling down my cheeks as I let her take the feed, and after a while I finally calm down.

Honey went home not long after that. I never touched her after that night. They removed her ovaries the next day and I was never so glad to see a horse go when she left our care both healthy and changed. The place where she got me swelled up black and blue. Looked like I’d been gang-punched in the stomach by some big buff dudes.

But phew! I will never forget that feisty she-mare. And every time I come across a thick-necked horse the spot on my belly where her teeth grazed starts to hurt like crazy. And I feel my breath catching in my throat.

Horses. *cringes a little* I guess I’ll never understand them.