...and ordered a stay of execution for Queen Estes.
She was much, much worse this morning despite the four a.m. pooping episode. I called the vet, told him it was time to put her down. Took just over an hour for him to get up here and she looked even worse by the time he got here. He tranquilized her, gave her more banamine and we discussed treatment options, none of which were feasible. Mom and I agreed it wouldn't kill her (pardon the pun) for her to have a "last meal" since the plan was to put her down, we just had to iron out the logistics, so Mom threw her a handful of hay.
At the lodge, we got the numbers for local disposal services, decided to tube her one. last. time.
We bundled up, because it was raining cats and dogs, and headed back over to the pen. And there stood my horse: eyes bright, ears forward, looking for more food.
She's still not moving much poop and what she is moving is laden with sand, but it looks like she's stepped off of the banana peels she had three of her hooves on.
We loaded her in the trailer and took her for a twenty minute ride hoping to shake some of the poop loose. She didn't poop in the trailer, but she sure was excited to get back to the lodge and trotted her way back to the pen, announcing *loudly* her return home.
If I didn't know that she'd literally been at death's door two hours ago, I would have never guessed.
I'm more than just cautiously optimistic at this point, I'm full-on optimistic that she'll pull through.
Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and prayers.