Today, I call the dreaded call..."GunDiva, Estes is colicking, better get up here."
We don't panic about much up here. Not much at all; not even a little bout of colic. For Bill to make that call, Estes had to be in a bad way. She was and she is. This is what her poop looked like, right before she stopped pooping.
Vet came, tubed her, gave her a ton of metamucil and some drugs. Compass had already given her banamine. The vibe I got from the vet was that he didn't think she'd make it through the night (not that he said that). I don't know. I was cautiously optimistic earlier today, but as the sun goes down and she's refusing water and not pooping, my spirits are flagging a bit.
Mom's posted about it over on her blog.
I'll post more, when I have more news. Until then, I'm off to stand vigil over the equine love of my life.