The Risk Of Owning A Unicorn

Even when he's doped up, he's just so dang cute.

I can’t seem to make it a full year without Goose needing some sort of expensive procedure or surgery. In 2015 it was the bowed tendon courtesy of our lease situation. A few grand and several shock wave treatments later, luckily most of which was covered by our lease lady, scroll to early 2016 where he decided to scalp himself somehow and required sutures right in his little noggin right before we moved barns. November 2016 brought a hole gauged out of his hind leg, cue vet visit, followed closely by a compound fracture of his right hind splint bone in January 2017 requiring surgery, many vet visits, thousands of dollars, and several more months in NJ than anticipated. It's been a November/December vet call and a January/February vet call for two years in a row, so why not make it three?

This was meant to be our year, and in a lot of ways it was, or is, I suppose, as 2017 has not yet drawn to a close. We moved 10 hours from home, started a new life for ourselves, and things have been going well. We’ve had a fall full of fun rides, tough rides, learning rides, and trail rides. Throw in a few lessons for the cherry on top, and I’d say we’ve been right on track for a winter of good training. Unfortunately, I wasn’t about to get away with closing out the year without more vet bills, and this time it’s a little scarier for the long-term.

I’ll start out by saying that Goose is fine. He’s acting himself, is sound as ever, and happily living outside. His field buddy was just sold so he’s living alone, but the bachelor life is suiting him until a new friend is found. We’ve had awesome lessons this fall, he’s rocking a dad-bod going into winter and hasn’t yet noticed that we’ve cut his grain back (again). He hasn’t seemed at all ulcery and the cool weather means he actually has a little bit of energy. The horse is fine, but alas, he is grey. Actually, at the ripe middle age of 13, he is now mostly white. The unfortunate reality of a fairytale white unicorn is that you’re gambling with melanoma. Gambling is a dangerous trade, and if I could go back and re-shuffle the genetic hand that dealt out Goose, I would.

Disclaimer: If you don’t like medical pictures or are offended by the word penis, don’t read any further. I don’t want to hear it, I’m writing this for my records to keep track and because I can, and don’t need your comments on why I shouldn’t be posting these pictures or writing about my horse’s health. The pictures are cropped to the surgical site and were taken in a medical context. Consider yourself warned.

Back in the early summer, I noticed something odd on Goose’s penis. He’s fond of dropping at any given moment and is quite comfortable with himself. I’m holding back on inappropriate jokes here, but humor is how I’m dealing with the situation so bear with me if I slip up at some point. I was doing some routine sheath cleaning when I saw a strange growth about half way up his penis. It was lumpy and still smallish, let’s say the size of a nickel, but I didn’t remember it being there before. This led to me racking my brain trying to remember the last time I really looked at my horse’s manhood. Was it last summer? Did I clean it last fall? Was there anything there? Did I not notice it, how could I have not noticed it? Am I a bad owner for not checking his penis more regularly? I was a freaking repro major for god’s sake, how could I not have been paying attention to his anatomy?

Taken in September. Not a great view of its depth, but at this point it was already as big a silver dollar. 

I confirmed with Marissa and Dawn that they hadn’t really noticed anything amiss with him while they were caring for him. Since it was summer in South Carolina, we were between vet visits, I was very poor, and it didn’t seem like an emergency situation warranting a vet visit, I decided to monitor it, refused to acknowledge it was most likely the onset of melanoma, and casually tried to think of what else it could be. Maybe it’s just him and I’ve never noticed it before! Maybe it’s a weird genetic family trait; his parents could have been weird, lumpy side-show freaks for all I know. Maybe I’m way too good at wishful thinking.

As the summer went by, the bastard growth did indeed get bigger. I constantly checked its size and if any others were popping up, but under his tail was totally clear. A few tiny ones appeared on his upper penis in August, but up in his sheath felt normal and there were no others to be found anywhere on his body. His throatlatch area seemed and still seems normal, he’s always been thick in there and it’s not lumpy at all. Gums and lips clear, just his damn penis.

When fall shots signups came around in September, I called the vet office and asked that the vet take time to look at potential melanoma while he was administering vaccines. The office person said it wouldn’t be a problem, and I showed the barn manager the trick to getting Goose to drop on command. You see, he gets VERY excited about doing tricks, and if you hold cookies without letting him eat them while asking him to bow, he drops it like it’s hot. On bated breath I waited at the office for news of what the vet thought, and the texts that came from Caitlin were concerning. Apparently, the vet had taken one look at him and said he needs to come to the clinic immediately to have it looked at. Now, despite my immediate panic, turns out this vet has zero bedside manner and a statement that should have been “Well, let’s get him in to the clinic to take a better look and determine how to proceed,” came out as “He needs to have this addressed immediately, have her call the clinic to set up a time,” with no further explanation.

Well, call the clinic I did only to be completely disregarded by the desk staff. The clinic is only 10 minutes down the road from the farm, and the vet prefers to work out of his own space rather than on farm. This is strange to me, but whatever. Turns out he’s also a small animal vet. The ONE TIME I don’t do a ton of research… I get that some vets do both small animal and equine or livestock, but I prefer someone focused soslely on equine. Finally, I got an appointment for him but asked them to have the vet call me immediately as I had questions. I called back three times trying to get ahold of the vet before I cancelled my appointment altogether. After speaking with Hannah, I learned of her vet down in Camden, SC and this one sounded like exactly the right fit.

In New Jersey, I was spoiled by having so many incredible vet clinics and farm-call vets within an hour of us. Running S was always my first choice, and I can’t thank them enough for the wonderful care they have provided for Goose over the years. This vet reminds me of them, and I’m so happy I called her. She was coming out for another horse on the farm anyway, and agreed to take a look at Goose. We discussed his age versus treatment options and decided that 13 was far too young to ignore this large growth. Oh, and yes it is in fact melanoma.

With grey horses, melanoma is not a matter of if, but rather a matter of when. Of course, I know this. Of course, I understand that most horses live to ripe old ages and melanoma has a very limited effect on their lives even when the growths are big and ugly. But Goose isn’t most horses. He’s MY horse. If this were any other horse in the barn, if this were even Tucker or Blue I would be saying “Wow, that sucks but don’t worry he’ll most likely be fine and melanoma isn’t typically hard to manage. Don’t worry!” In fact, Marissa and Dawn did say very similar things to me but I’ve had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach since I found the growth over six months ago.

The vet and I agreed that the big growth had to go. While it wasn’t interfering with any bodily functions, if it got any bigger it might. It can be bad news if horses can’t retract their penises, and luckily I found the melanoma early enough that it wasn’t quite THAT big. Yet. She checked him everywhere for other signs of melanoma, and she saw the ones higher up on his penis and found one small one under his tail that hadn’t been there just weeks before when the other vet had looked at him. Shit.

We chose a date in December for the surgery to remove the big melanoma and she said we would discuss options for the smaller ones as we got closer. She also pulled research for me on the melanoma vaccine approved in dogs but sometimes used in equines, and we ultimately decided it was not an option for us right now. It’s not only cost-prohibitive at roughly $2,600 to start, but the research is cloudy and it’s mostly been shown to help horses with melanomas in their throat which luckily isn’t the case with Goose.

In the 6 or so weeks since the vet visited in October, I’ve been watching the growth closely. I didn’t think it had gotten that much bigger (it had) but did notice that there were more popping up both higher on his penis and under his tail. Double shit.

As the weeks passed and P-Day loomed closer, I would flip flop from being desperately upset about it to making highly inappropriate jokes about it. To feel better about the situation, I’ve been referring to his surgery as his “Ween Repair” and it was even written on our events board in the barn that way. I’ve refused to do any melanoma research other than very high level, basic things because I didn’t want to dig myself into an internet hole of doom and dismay. I know a bit about melanoma from horses I’ve known personally and a few illness and disease based classes from college, and I’m a rational human being who knows not to panic over things like this.

Well, I’ve been panicking on and off for a few months. This stupid horse has been through hell and back with me the past few years and I love him so damn much. I just keep thinking that he’s ONLY 13, and this melanoma thing is moving way too fast for comfort. If he was 18 I wouldn’t be as concerned. At that age, you pretty much maintain their health and if melanoma or something else is going to take over, you bide your time and try to play your cards as best you can. Well, Goose is 13 and already needs melanomas removed, and I don’t like it at all. Again, he’s totally fine but I just have visions of losing my best friend far too early to cancer and I can’t get the terrifying images out of my mind. On several occasions, I called Marissa as I left the barn and sobbed into my speaker phone. The rational part of my brain knows he’s fine and will likely live a long, happy life despite these nasty growths. The Goose-mom part of my brain is losing her shit.

Sunday’s hunter pace was a delightful distraction from the reality that was about to unfold on Monday. We had a wonderful day of trail riding with good company, and I was glad to sneak one more adventure in before the end of the year. I wasn’t sure how long Goose would need to recover so was prepared for this to be our last ride for a while. The procedure on Monday would be straightforward, the vet was confident she’d get the big one off and we’d come up with a game plan for the rest, and he was going to be on big doses of meds to help him through. It’s a dirty area to have an open wound after all. We decided to save me a little money and not biopsy the mass. There’s not much else you can learn about melanoma from the biopsy, even if it is blatantly cancerous. It’s a situation where the phrase “it is what it is” comes into play and whatever the results come back as, the treatment options don’t really change and my wallet isn’t suddenly going to grow six sizes. We already knew his melanoma is aggressive and rapid-growing.

I got to the barn early Monday morning and went to get Goose from his field. The vet wasn’t due to arrive until 9:30 but I wanted to have time to make sure he was clean and let him eat some hay inside for a bit. He threw his head up and nickered to me as I approached, and my heart clenched for him. He was not going to like me very much in a few hours.

As he happily munched his breakfast, I swapped his turnout sheet for his light cotton stable sheet and made sure he was poopstain-free. I cleaned his stall, putzed around, and then the vet showed up. She took a few minutes to draw up his pre-procedure drugs before I brought him up to the main barn. Luckily, he didn’t need to go to the clinic for this, and because we waited until December for the flies to (mostly) die down, healing at home was a good option. I plopped him in a stall and held him while she injected the cocktail of pharmaceuticals. Goose was shivering and tense, partly because it was chilly and partly because he looked genuinely concerned about the big giant needles coming towards him. He flinched harder at the injections than I’ve ever seen him do, and it wasn’t when she was actually poking him, but the moment before it touched his skin. It had nothing to do with the vet, but I think he has some mild PTSD from his surgery last year. Poor guy has seen the vet quite a bit lately. I held his head in my chest as she finished the injections and he behaved very well despite his anxiety.

A Very Drunk Goose

He was extremely drunk when I put him on the aisle with back legs crossing and not all four limbs working together as they should. We threw a second waffle cooler over him to make sure he stayed warm even though it was in the 50’s. We slowly meandered to the wash stall so she could give his entire sheath a good cleaning.

Stumbling back to the crossties, she scrubbed him again with iodine solution and began the process of blocking the penis with Lidocaine so he wouldn’t feel anything. Through this whole process, Goose was a stoic, perfect gentleman. It can’t have been comfortable even with all the drugs coursing through his system, and this saint of a horse just stood there with his lip droopy and ears only occasionally twitching as something particularly uncomfortable was happening. Those monster feet stayed firmly planted on the ground. In the hour-ish it took for the procedure I don’t recall him so much as shifting a hoof.

We discussed the procedure once more as we waited for the Lidocaine to take effect. She gave him one more small cocktail to be sure he remained in lala-land, and off we went. She said that she would remove the big mass first, then see if she could address any of the smaller ones. She wanted to cryo the area once she was done with the removal to be sure there were clean margins and anything remaining would be frozen off. She needed someone to assist her to hold his penis to make sure he didn’t retract, so of course I offered to help. It wasn’t the first time I’ve helped a vet, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Luckily, blood, guts, and gaping flesh wounds don’t bother me in the least and I assured her I would be fine even though he’d be bleeding all over me. Daniel stood at Goose’s head, but the horse would have stood there all by himself without crossties or assistance. I am eternally grateful that Goose is a saintly patient.

Gloved up, we got to work. The problem with penile mass removals, ween repairs if you will, is that the penis is very vascular. That means there’s a lot of blood. Goose didn’t so much as flinch as she took a scalpel to the ugly mass, and I focused on keeping my grip on this, er, slippery situation. Blood was pouring out but she assured me this was normal. We did have a few bleeders so out came the clamps and extra gauze for me to be able to hold on to him. The vet continuously asked if I was okay, if I needed a break, and I assured her that I was just fine. I have a fascination with all things wound care, and Goose has kindly obliged me ample opportunity to further my education and experience. We cracked a few jokes about us being on our knees in this position, and I kept my spirits up. I am proud to say I didn’t cry or panic at all. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have been because of the blood pouring out of my horses nether-region appendage, but because it was Goose going through this terrible thing, and for my wallet that had to pay for it.

The vet was great about explaining to me what she was doing and told me that I could tech for her any time. We joked about student loans and the reality of veterinary care, and I am so grateful that there are people out there who sign up for a lifetime of debt to be able to take care of our animals. Seriously, we should all be so extremely grateful to our amazing veterinarians.

She pulled out the little cryo tank and set to work once the melanoma mass was off. She then sutured the incision and continued to assure me she wasn’t worried about the amount of blood pooling on the mat below us. Both my hands and knees were tired at this point, har har, but we all hung in there and soon it was all over.

Due to the swelling and trauma of the incision, she decided to leave the ones on his upper penis for the time being and would reassess at his re-check the following week. She wanted to pull some research and ask a few colleagues about any success with cryo on small melanomas. Because they’re subdermal, she wasn’t sure if it would be worth it to try. The problem is, there’s not a lot of skin up that high as it’s a rather taught area. To cut them off is possible, but closing is a real issue and can lead to infection if they aren’t closed properly or if the incision reopened. The bigger problem is, assuming they will get bigger, it’s just going to be harder to do anything about them later on. Same goes for the ones under his tail. Luckily this vet is incredible and is happy to do some homework to come up with the best game plan possible.

Lots of blood, but I was so impressed with suture job. It looks extremely swollen here because the lidocaine puffs up the tissue, and there was blood pooling inside the wound. This area is not conducive to a drain.

The good news: the big mass was completely removed and seems to be healing nicely so far.

The bad news: this will likely be a continuous battle of us versus the melanoma.

There is no way of knowing how rapidly the other growths will expand. Unfortunately, what was one tiny bump under his tail 6 weeks ago is now a series of 10ish tiny bumps. Like most tumorous growths, there isn’t always rhyme or reason to how quickly or to where it will spread. Goose has gone from one medium-sized lump on his penis to rapidly growing and multiplying melanomas in about six months. My gut is telling me this probably isn’t good, my head is screaming at my gut to shut the hell up.

Likely, Goose will end up covered in melanoma throughout his nether regions and under his tail. Hopefully the growth slows down, and he won’t need more than the occasional checkup and removal if one is getting big enough it will interfere with a bodily function. The melanoma probably won’t impact his well-being if we can keep them from growing too big to interfere, but that does mean a lot of maintenance and vet visits throughout his life if the progression doesn’t slow down.

I reiterate: Goose is fine. Me? Eh, I’ve been better. Realistically I know my horse is doing well, and any other horse person will tell you the same thing. I’m not trying to be dramatic and over the top about a fairly routine surgical procedure but it’s hard not to jump to conclusions when it’s your own best friend under the knife. Likely, Goose has a long and happy life ahead of him as both a riding horse and into the ripe old age of retirement. Time will tell what continues to happen with the melanoma, and in the meantime I’m doing my best to get my brain to shut up and stop jumping to conclusions that are not very likely.

Back to Monday, Goose was cleaned up a bit then put in his stall to wake up. After 45 minutes, I gave him a little hay and made sure his water buckets were full, then around 1:30 I tossed him more hay and he finally seemed more awake. I’m very lucky that my job is so flexible that I can work remotely. I was able to sit on the patio at the barn most of the day and work while keeping an eye on the patient through the barn windows. He alternated between snoozing, munching hay scraps, and staring out his window. He was adorable and I felt so terrible that he was basically roofied and had his penis chopped off. I bought him a whole bag of carrots and gave him some every time I went to his stall, assuring him that he’s still a man and he’ll feel better soon.

Goose is on 10 days of SMZ’s, 8 days of GastroGuard, 6 days of Banamine (or longer, if needed), and an additional dose of Pro-bios with his regular UGuard supplement. My trunk looks like a pharmacy and I keep having flashbacks to last year when I had to keep a full bucket handy of medical supplies for months when his stupid leg wouldn’t heal. You know, before he ultimately broke the splint. I’m getting a little too good at managing medication and wound care.

Because I am a crazy person and because I’ve had bad experiences with him not getting the necessary medication at a previous barn, I put together a little bin of all his meds. I pre-baggied all his SMZ’s, put all the syringes together neatly with the tubes of GastroGuard, and made a med chart so we can mark off every dose he gets. I do not anticipate that Caitlin and Daniel wouldn’t be giving him the correct meds at the correct times, but it makes me feel better that we can all track it and know for certain that he’s getting what he needs. To their credit, they have nodded and smiled at the crazy person (me) and have conceded to all my requests. Between them and a few other boarders peeking in on him during the day, I know he’s in good hands. I do miss Goose's NJ helicopter aunties though. This is the first Big One I've had to go through "alone" (even though I call Marissa every single day with updates).

Goober stayed in the stall until Tuesday afternoon when he was put out in a smaller paddock attached to the shed row so he has shelter if he wants it. It was conveniently still set up from a previous horse that left a few weeks ago and was the perfect compromise to keeping him contained but him hating being alone in the barn. He seems to be doing well out there and I’m hoping to keep him in the smaller pen until his full 10 days of meds are up and he’s fully healed. The vet said that if he doesn’t tolerate confinement he would be fine to go out in his normal pasture as long as he doesn’t run. I assured her an actual bomb would have to go off for this horse to take off bucking and leaping around his field.

Last Wednesday night Goose was looking great with only some swelling and probable hematoma along the incision. I sent the vet an update with a picture and she confirmed he’s healing as expected and hopes that swelling will start dropping off significantly after about a week. Goose is such a good boy about things, but he always reminds me of his saintliness when he’s injured. He dropped right away for me, standing untied on the aisle, and let me look at and hold him down to get a picture. I was wary of his hind feet in case he decided to get grumpy about it, of course I would NOT blame him, but he stood like a gentleman and snoozed on crossties. The banamine is doing it’s job because he seems no worse for the wear which is a huge relief. This has continued to be the trend, and he is looking better every day.

Wednesday, 12/6/17 big hematoma but healing well, no signs of infection, and no gaping in suture line.

Thursday 12/7/17 Looks similar to the day before, hematoma looks slightly bigger. The vet assured me this is normal. Good view of the smaller cluster of melanoma above surgical site. 

12/10/17 big hematoma still but suture line is intact and still looks awesome. You can see all the little melanoma here too.

Sunday 12/10/17 side view to see how big the hematoma is.

Wednesday, 12/13/17 granulating nicely and even though it looks worse, it's doing really well and healing right on schedule. The hematoma is also visibly smaller. 

The vet came out this past Tuesday morning to check on his progress and discuss options for the smaller melanoma. Poor guy would NOT drop for her, not that we could blame him, so a little Xylazine helped him out. She’s happy with his progress and says the “crusty” look means it’s healing. There’s no big gaping, and she suspects that the bubble in the middle of the incision is a seroma which will go down over time. He’ll likely have some built up scar tissue in this area, but not to worry it won’t affect him at all.

We discussed options for the smaller ones, and she said freezing them off is out. There’s just no research to back up freezing melanoma, and it’s not worth it to try. She’s going to come back out in January once he’s fully healed and remove the smaller ones higher on  his penis and potentially the ones under his tail. Basically the plan is to put a small incision in and then use a tool to scoop out the growth. He might need a few small sutures to close, but this leaves more skin than other options which is good considering the taught areas where the remaining melanomas are located.

This also means more vet bills, and more time off for Goose.

I’ve decided to give Goose off the entire month of December so he can heal and just be a horse. He’s cleared to tack walk, but why bother? He’s going to be a nut with the chilly weather and I’d be worried he’s uncomfortable. We have no one to impress, so rest is what he gets.

I’m happy to give him the time he needs. I can’t imagine being the type of owner who pushes their horse to get better faster faster faster. The cautious look on my vets face as she recommended more time off but I could tack walk if I wanted to made my stomach churn. I looked at her and said OF COURSE he’s getting time off, there’s no reason to put him back to work and I’m going home to NJ anyway. If I don’t ride him until 2018, so be it his health is more important. She was relieved, and I was embarrassed for my fellow horsewomen who cause vets to cautiously give the news that their horses need time off, waiting for an explosion from the owner over missed shows, training, etc.

Aside from worrying about his long-term health, I’m devastated at this blow to my wallet. I HATE to be that person, but I’m tapped out. I’m still paying off my credit card from his surgery last year, plus my own medical bills from this summer, now this surgery which wasn’t even that bad at roughly $600, but double that now to probably $1200 to include his January surgery.

There it is. Three years in a row of a November/December vet visit with another in January/February. What’s a girl got to do to catch a break?

I fully understand the responsibility we take on by owning animals. The past three years of my life have been riddled with vet visits for Goose, Maggie, and even Zuzu, some of it routine, much of it devastating. I know the financial burden of caring for animals, and I was prepared for it. I just wasn’t prepared for it to hit me over and over again while I lie on the ground shouting “UNCLE!” I don’t need to be public regarding this part of my life, but I feel it’s relatable and I could use some comradery right now.

I’m exhausted by the feeling of taking one step forward, two steps back. Just when we’re on track and fit and working towards goals again, Goose needs time off to heal. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to give him the time he needs. I've learned so much from this horse, much of it during the time that he's been unrideable. Horses have a funny way of rendering timelines and goal planning useless. It's something I've learned to live with, but the initial frustration and pain never changes. I really think I need to just promise him winters off. In the five years I’ve owned him, this is our sixth winter and he’s only worked two of the six. Maybe one day we'll have a "normal" year.

Such is life and all that, and all things considered, I’m still really lucky. We’ll keep trucking along like we always do, and things will get worked out even if I have to sell my organs and/or pick up a side job. This post ran away with me (as they so often do) but the key takeaways are that Goose is fine and doing very well, and I am doing less well but will ultimately be fine.

I’ll likely post again about Goober’s ween repair saga, but any of you horse people out there that have personal experience with melanoma in your equine pals, I’d love to hear your stories and any treatments (if any) you went through. Hopefully this all blows over for Goose and when he’s 25 and still goobering around I’ll laugh at my stressed-out, dramatic 25-year-old self. For now, good thoughts are appreciated if you have any extras to send Goose’s way. Can someone remind me why I like horses again?

Oh yeah, this is why. I’m lucky to have my unicorn, lumps and all.