Porcupine in the barn
Stepping out of the back door of my farmhouse on a lovely summer morning I heard a banging, crashing racket coming from the barn in which my 2 year old stallion spent his nights. Since Chal was usually a quiet. well behaved guy, this was an immediate cause for alarm. I
dashed down the lane and entered the walkway to Chal's stall.
Looking over his gate I found the young colt lathered in sweat, eyes rolling, and a face full of porcupine quills. In the far corner of his stall huddled a large, fat porcupine. He appeared to be uninjured--just grumpy. I grabbed a lead rope and opened the stall gate, talking quietly to my poor, terrified horse. I stroked his frothy wet neck, clipped the lead to his halter, and led him out of the barn to the corral.
There I tied him to the railing. I talked to him and rubbed the sweat from his neck with a rag I had stuffed in my jeans pocket, while checking the rest of his body for quills. There did not appear to be any quills other than those on his face. Those were numerous and even up inside his nose. It seemed as though Chal had simply been
sniffing the strange creature which had ventured into his stall, and been rewarded with the mass of needles now protruding from his
flaring nostrils. Once the colt was standing quietly, though still trying to rub his face against whatever was within reach to rid himself of the stingers, I left him to call the Vet whom I worked with. He said I could pull those quills with the horse standing. No need to anesthetize him. He had more faith in my ability than I had. But it is true that you
ought to avoid anesthetizing a horse if possible.
So I went back to the corral, armed with a pan of water, my forceps
and some towels. I began pulling the quills from the cheek area where
they were not driven in deeply. Pressing the forceps firmly against the flesh, I closed the tines tightly around the large quill-then a quick tug, and out it came, barb and all. Chal snorted and backed up as far as the rope allowed. I petted his neck and said softly, "Okay, Boy, only
99 more to go. (And that was an underestimate!) Then I went for a second one-and a third-and by now Chal's eyes were rolling again and he was fighting the tie rope and half-rearing when I approached. I had not even begun to work on his most sensitive nose. Even though I stood close, my body against his chest, I was in danger of being banged in the knee by his hoof, or stepped on. Tears of frustration and sympathy for this lovely little colt ran down my face. My Vet had made it quite clear he really did not think he should come. I had removed quills from many dogs--knew the proper technique--but unless the dog had less than a dozen, and all in easy access, we had anesthetized them.
So what now? Then I wondered if Chal could not see me coming with forceps in hand, would he stand quietly enough for me to do my work. So I took the towels and devised a blindfold, fixing it to the sides of Chal's halter. The blindfold was not a new experience for Chal. I practiced blindfolding all my horses and teaching them to follow me while the blindfolds were in place. So this did not alarm Chal. He stood quietly. Talking all the time to him in a soft, reassuring voice, I would quickly ensnare a quill with the forceps and tug. I dropped each extracted quill into the pan of water, both to clean the forceps of any hair or debris which had come with the quill
and to release the quill itself into a place where it could not attach to anyone else. Each time I pulled a quill, the colt snorted, tossing his head a bit,; however, his feet stayed on the ground and he did not pull back on his rope. Even when I had to pull the quills from inside his nostrils, causing blood to flow lightly, he did not try to get away from me. Not being able to see my hand with the forceps approaching, he did not have the opportunity to prevent it or prepare himself to object. It took over two hours. With aching back and sore arm, I rubbed the inside of his nostrils with some antibiotic ointment. Bleeding had stopped. I removed the towel blindfold and untied Chal, letting him run across the corral, where he stood beneath his shade tree and took a long drink from his water tub.
Back to the barn. I had left the stall door and barn door open and no longer saw any sign of the porcupine. I cautiously explored both inside and outside the stall area. Apparently he had taken this opportunity to escape. Not before leaving the plank walls of the stall
decorated with so many quills he should have been naked. So then I had the task of cleaning the stall of all those quills. At least it was easier than removing them from a frightened horse.
I was always concerned that the porcupine might return. But I did not want to keep the barn doors closed on warm summer nights.
He never did come back. Perhaps he decided all the ruckus was not worth it when all he wanted to do was chew on the salty-tasting wood of the stall.
Note: Porcupines do not throw their quills. However they do come off the porcupine very easily with the slightest touch.
dashed down the lane and entered the walkway to Chal's stall.
Looking over his gate I found the young colt lathered in sweat, eyes rolling, and a face full of porcupine quills. In the far corner of his stall huddled a large, fat porcupine. He appeared to be uninjured--just grumpy. I grabbed a lead rope and opened the stall gate, talking quietly to my poor, terrified horse. I stroked his frothy wet neck, clipped the lead to his halter, and led him out of the barn to the corral.
There I tied him to the railing. I talked to him and rubbed the sweat from his neck with a rag I had stuffed in my jeans pocket, while checking the rest of his body for quills. There did not appear to be any quills other than those on his face. Those were numerous and even up inside his nose. It seemed as though Chal had simply been
sniffing the strange creature which had ventured into his stall, and been rewarded with the mass of needles now protruding from his
flaring nostrils. Once the colt was standing quietly, though still trying to rub his face against whatever was within reach to rid himself of the stingers, I left him to call the Vet whom I worked with. He said I could pull those quills with the horse standing. No need to anesthetize him. He had more faith in my ability than I had. But it is true that you
ought to avoid anesthetizing a horse if possible.
So I went back to the corral, armed with a pan of water, my forceps
and some towels. I began pulling the quills from the cheek area where
they were not driven in deeply. Pressing the forceps firmly against the flesh, I closed the tines tightly around the large quill-then a quick tug, and out it came, barb and all. Chal snorted and backed up as far as the rope allowed. I petted his neck and said softly, "Okay, Boy, only
99 more to go. (And that was an underestimate!) Then I went for a second one-and a third-and by now Chal's eyes were rolling again and he was fighting the tie rope and half-rearing when I approached. I had not even begun to work on his most sensitive nose. Even though I stood close, my body against his chest, I was in danger of being banged in the knee by his hoof, or stepped on. Tears of frustration and sympathy for this lovely little colt ran down my face. My Vet had made it quite clear he really did not think he should come. I had removed quills from many dogs--knew the proper technique--but unless the dog had less than a dozen, and all in easy access, we had anesthetized them.
So what now? Then I wondered if Chal could not see me coming with forceps in hand, would he stand quietly enough for me to do my work. So I took the towels and devised a blindfold, fixing it to the sides of Chal's halter. The blindfold was not a new experience for Chal. I practiced blindfolding all my horses and teaching them to follow me while the blindfolds were in place. So this did not alarm Chal. He stood quietly. Talking all the time to him in a soft, reassuring voice, I would quickly ensnare a quill with the forceps and tug. I dropped each extracted quill into the pan of water, both to clean the forceps of any hair or debris which had come with the quill
and to release the quill itself into a place where it could not attach to anyone else. Each time I pulled a quill, the colt snorted, tossing his head a bit,; however, his feet stayed on the ground and he did not pull back on his rope. Even when I had to pull the quills from inside his nostrils, causing blood to flow lightly, he did not try to get away from me. Not being able to see my hand with the forceps approaching, he did not have the opportunity to prevent it or prepare himself to object. It took over two hours. With aching back and sore arm, I rubbed the inside of his nostrils with some antibiotic ointment. Bleeding had stopped. I removed the towel blindfold and untied Chal, letting him run across the corral, where he stood beneath his shade tree and took a long drink from his water tub.
Back to the barn. I had left the stall door and barn door open and no longer saw any sign of the porcupine. I cautiously explored both inside and outside the stall area. Apparently he had taken this opportunity to escape. Not before leaving the plank walls of the stall
decorated with so many quills he should have been naked. So then I had the task of cleaning the stall of all those quills. At least it was easier than removing them from a frightened horse.
I was always concerned that the porcupine might return. But I did not want to keep the barn doors closed on warm summer nights.
He never did come back. Perhaps he decided all the ruckus was not worth it when all he wanted to do was chew on the salty-tasting wood of the stall.
Note: Porcupines do not throw their quills. However they do come off the porcupine very easily with the slightest touch.
Comments
Post a Comment