This time last week, I was calling my boss to let her know I wasn't going to be in to work, because Her Highness had colicked.
One week ago, I was getting set to get up with Estes every two hours to check on her. Despite being tubed and the banamine she'd been given, she wasn't showing much improvement. No pee. No poop. No drinking. Things were looking bad.
One week ago, I was steeling myself to make the decision that no animal owner wants to make.
Tomorrow will be one week since she was given a reprieve. The short-acting opiates the vet gave her controlled her pain enough for the muscles to relax and for things to start moving again.
Tomorrow, we celebrate by going for a ride.
Yep, I think that's the perfect celebration.