... those were the first words in a message from our barn owner... so what do I do?

That's right, I panic.

My boyfriend and I drop everything and we race to the barn. We arrive at the barn to find The Squirt looking quite unconcerned.

The Squirt:
"Munch munch. Do I really have to come in? Can't you see that I'm eating?"
*head disappears into bale*
"Munch munch."
*Wanders to other side of bale as 'Mom' approaches*
"Munch munch. I don't wanna come in, I'm hanging out with my friends."
*Trots off with the young fillies when 'Dad' arrives with his halter*

Me:
"Phew, all four legs are working." Relief.
Then I see the blood in the snow... and the nasty flap of flesh hanging off of The Squirt's leg.
"Aaaaah!" Panic sets back in.
Any blood that dripped from the wound showed quite vividly against the white snow. Eep!

The barn owner reassures me that it is just 'a scrape' (especially relative to what horses often do to themselves), and that he likely clipped himself with his own hoof. Ack, youngsters! The Squirt just went through a growth spurt (15.2 hh now!) and he is still figuring out where his 'new legs' are. The snow-covered ground is also a bit uneven, so this sort of thing is no surprise... but I am a worrier, especially when it come to my 'fur-babies'.

We have full faith in our barn owner, but we called the vet... mostly for peace of mind, but also to have the dangling tissue stitched or removed. The flap of skin hanging off of the wound was damaged enough to not allow for easy stitching back in place, and such flaps rarely 'take' anyhow, so the vet snipped it off. The flap was the source of a lot of the blood, since every time it got disturbed it started a new round of bleeding. Now that it is gone, the wound is bleeding less and I no longer have to worry about the flap trapping debris against the wound. Thankfully there are no flies or mud right now, and the wound does seem to be healing (slowly *sigh*), so it's just a matter of keeping it clean, applying Derma GeL, and watching for any sign of swelling or proudflesh (*hopes neither occur*). The Squirt has thus far allowed us to regularly tend to his leg... now we have to let nature take its course. *crosses fingers*

My silly beast has given himself a few scrapes (by wandering through the trees nibbling on bark and twigs, by crawling into the feeder to get the yummy bits under the hay, by playing hard with his buddies, by annoying the mares, and now by getting in the way of his own legs)... but this is the first 'vet worthy' injury (thankfully). As I explained to The Squirt all of the worry that he has caused, I heard echos of my own mom. I am now thinking that this is some sort of 'karmic justice'. When I was little, I climbed anything that I could scamble up, tried to ride any animal that I could hop onto, I bounced on anything that seemed springy, and I ran everywhere. My misadventures led to me (and my folks) becoming quite familiar with hospital Emergency Rooms. I remember my mom saying "just wait until you have kids". Well, I don't have children, but I do have animals... and they get into enough mischief for me to have a cupboard full of first aid supplies, and the vet on speed dial.

My animals do give me some insight into what my mother must have gone through. Yikes!

Sorry Mom.