Sam's Pride!
Horse Seizures
I lost a 2-year-old filly, Sam’s Pride in February 2008, to seizures. I've had horses for 45 years and I had never heard of a horse taking seizures before. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
I had asked the vet about the strange behaviors that this young filly was having and then the horse owners at the local race track, including her previous owner, if they could identify the actions. Mostly the men said "no", gave me a weird look, like I was exaggerating and said it must be some form of colic. So I agreed with them. If nothing else I learned a lot about colic and I learned that my dear Sammy was never colicky.
We live on an island, in the middle of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. At the end of January, the ice starts to form and fill the Gulf, stopping all ocean going traffic, leaving the islands in isolation for two months. The ferry service resumes around the first of April.
The last week in February, at 5:00am, Sammy fell down in her favorite place, in the large greenhouse, next to the house and stayed down. We could hear the disturbance and we went running for the door. Sammy was lying on a very soft area of ground close to an electrical outlet, where I placed heat lamps and kept the temperature in the building warm. I also kept hot water bottles around her, on the hay covered, soft ground and under the two winter horse blankets that she was covered with. Her body temperature had dropped to a level that concerned me and at the suggestion of the veterinarian, I brought her body temperature back to normal levels.
Up until this point, I had been using the word ‘convulsion’ to describe some of her strange actions, which would explain severe colic in young horses. When she fell, she had a ‘grand mal’ seizure, but since I had never seen this thrashing about before, I still used the word ‘convulsion’ when describing her strange actions. But I also told people that she was thrashing about, even though it didn’t appear like she was trying to get up. She didn’t seem to have any pain, however she seemed confused and very tired after the thrashing stopped. Thirty hours after she first went down, a group of horse men and I tried to lift her in a sling, set up with a block and tackle. Mostly she refused to help and behaved like a kitten being moved about, in its mother mouth. Still, it was obvious that she had strength and the ability for strong movement, in all four of her legs.
I had a second veterinarian in to see her, about an hour after we tried to sling her up and the lady couldn't find anything to say the horse was even sick. Tests had already been done on her stools and blood. They came back normal earlier in the month. Her temperature was normal as was her heart, lungs, gums, ears, eyes and nose. Her stools were clean and proper, her urine was fine. She was eating, in fact like most horses, she rarely stopped eating, even while the vet examined her. The lady couldn’t find anything wrong with her legs. There were no swellings or cuts on her body, to indicate that the herd had damaged her in any way. I also know this was the case, since the filly stayed with me, because the herd didn’t want her around them. She was a good weight for her age, not too heavy or too thin.
The veterinarian gave her a vitamin shot and antibiotics, explaining that they won’t hurt her, but she couldn’t find an infection. She gave me more and explained how and when to give the shots. The veterinarian said that if she didn’t get up on her own within forty-eight hours, then it would be best to put her down. I had asked the veterinarian if she had ever seen anything like this before and she had said no, never in horses. To say she was perplexed would be an understatement.
My dear young filly, Sam’s Pride, “Sammy” died of natural causes twelve hours later. Having an autopsy preformed was impossible due to the lack of facilities on the islands and the costs of such a procedure. Then, of course the worry came, that perhaps she had something contagious, something that had been passed on to the other horses. It was a week later, before I realized that she had been having increasingly severe seizures and eventually she went into one and never survived it. Calls to the equine hospital on Prince Edward Island, had finally determined that something had probably blocked the oxygenated blood from her lungs to her brain through the aortic arch.
I could never have saved Sammy, I know that now, even if I had been able to get her to the equine hospital. Living on an ice bound island at the end of February, made that impossible. It was likely even with anti-convulsive medication, she would still be a risk around other animals and people.
Perhaps she had an operable tumor or a removable blood clot, that caused the seizures. I would have spent all my savings and everything else to save her, but in the end, no matter what, my Sammy had to die. My reasoning is that she could never be trusted, not to take other seizures and therefore had to be kept isolated. That would not have been fair to this young horse.
My dear little Sammy had lived a hard life, as an investment at the track and was just learning love and to show love, when she died. She would try to mimic me when I gave her kisses on her neck and face by putting her lips to my cheek and make a sucking sound, much like sucking up water. She also let me know when she needed a hug, something I gave her frequently. When I was near, she would come close, close enough to push me off my feet and wrap her neck and head around my neck and wait for me to wrap my arms around her neck and chest and hold her. She had just learned what love was....
I love my other horses, but the loss of Sammy broke my heart.
I lost a 2-year-old filly, Sam’s Pride in February 2008, to seizures. I've had horses for 45 years and I had never heard of a horse taking seizures before. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
I had asked the vet about the strange behaviors that this young filly was having and then the horse owners at the local race track, including her previous owner, if they could identify the actions. Mostly the men said "no", gave me a weird look, like I was exaggerating and said it must be some form of colic. So I agreed with them. If nothing else I learned a lot about colic and I learned that my dear Sammy was never colicky.
We live on an island, in the middle of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. At the end of January, the ice starts to form and fill the Gulf, stopping all ocean going traffic, leaving the islands in isolation for two months. The ferry service resumes around the first of April.
The last week in February, at 5:00am, Sammy fell down in her favorite place, in the large greenhouse, next to the house and stayed down. We could hear the disturbance and we went running for the door. Sammy was lying on a very soft area of ground close to an electrical outlet, where I placed heat lamps and kept the temperature in the building warm. I also kept hot water bottles around her, on the hay covered, soft ground and under the two winter horse blankets that she was covered with. Her body temperature had dropped to a level that concerned me and at the suggestion of the veterinarian, I brought her body temperature back to normal levels.
Up until this point, I had been using the word ‘convulsion’ to describe some of her strange actions, which would explain severe colic in young horses. When she fell, she had a ‘grand mal’ seizure, but since I had never seen this thrashing about before, I still used the word ‘convulsion’ when describing her strange actions. But I also told people that she was thrashing about, even though it didn’t appear like she was trying to get up. She didn’t seem to have any pain, however she seemed confused and very tired after the thrashing stopped. Thirty hours after she first went down, a group of horse men and I tried to lift her in a sling, set up with a block and tackle. Mostly she refused to help and behaved like a kitten being moved about, in its mother mouth. Still, it was obvious that she had strength and the ability for strong movement, in all four of her legs.
I had a second veterinarian in to see her, about an hour after we tried to sling her up and the lady couldn't find anything to say the horse was even sick. Tests had already been done on her stools and blood. They came back normal earlier in the month. Her temperature was normal as was her heart, lungs, gums, ears, eyes and nose. Her stools were clean and proper, her urine was fine. She was eating, in fact like most horses, she rarely stopped eating, even while the vet examined her. The lady couldn’t find anything wrong with her legs. There were no swellings or cuts on her body, to indicate that the herd had damaged her in any way. I also know this was the case, since the filly stayed with me, because the herd didn’t want her around them. She was a good weight for her age, not too heavy or too thin.
The veterinarian gave her a vitamin shot and antibiotics, explaining that they won’t hurt her, but she couldn’t find an infection. She gave me more and explained how and when to give the shots. The veterinarian said that if she didn’t get up on her own within forty-eight hours, then it would be best to put her down. I had asked the veterinarian if she had ever seen anything like this before and she had said no, never in horses. To say she was perplexed would be an understatement.
My dear young filly, Sam’s Pride, “Sammy” died of natural causes twelve hours later. Having an autopsy preformed was impossible due to the lack of facilities on the islands and the costs of such a procedure. Then, of course the worry came, that perhaps she had something contagious, something that had been passed on to the other horses. It was a week later, before I realized that she had been having increasingly severe seizures and eventually she went into one and never survived it. Calls to the equine hospital on Prince Edward Island, had finally determined that something had probably blocked the oxygenated blood from her lungs to her brain through the aortic arch.
I could never have saved Sammy, I know that now, even if I had been able to get her to the equine hospital. Living on an ice bound island at the end of February, made that impossible. It was likely even with anti-convulsive medication, she would still be a risk around other animals and people.
Perhaps she had an operable tumor or a removable blood clot, that caused the seizures. I would have spent all my savings and everything else to save her, but in the end, no matter what, my Sammy had to die. My reasoning is that she could never be trusted, not to take other seizures and therefore had to be kept isolated. That would not have been fair to this young horse.
My dear little Sammy had lived a hard life, as an investment at the track and was just learning love and to show love, when she died. She would try to mimic me when I gave her kisses on her neck and face by putting her lips to my cheek and make a sucking sound, much like sucking up water. She also let me know when she needed a hug, something I gave her frequently. When I was near, she would come close, close enough to push me off my feet and wrap her neck and head around my neck and wait for me to wrap my arms around her neck and chest and hold her. She had just learned what love was....
I love my other horses, but the loss of Sammy broke my heart.
Comment
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Comment by Gimme A Dream on September 19, 2008 at 10:05pm -
Thank you, everyone for you sympathies. Sometimes it seems that no one around me understands the love Sammy and I shared. I know you all understand. I've cried buckets for her loss, but it was months ago that she left and Frilly is so special, in her own way.
Frilly is 3 years old. She would make an excellent child's horse. Her temperament is such that she loves learning new things and she loves to be ridden. As a yearling and a 2 year old, she hated the track and racing. She hated being beaten and she hated the pace gait. But I've never seen her lay her ears back or give a hint of biting or kicking. She has no bad habits anymore.
Gimme a Dream is a wonderful horse too, but at 17hh he is too tall to be of value to anyone here. He's 8 years old. He has no bad habits either, but he is a nervous horse.
My other horse is a Canadian mare called Willow Breeze. She has been beaten badly in the past and lays her ears back and has even threatened to bite me, just because I'm within her space. But that is happening less and less frequently but when it does happen the thread is worse - more violent threatening.
I have just replaced all their bridles with bitless bridles and I've been working all of them today. What a rush!
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Comment by LuvMyAQH on September 19, 2008 at 8:33pm - So sorry to hear about Sammy. I understand, lost my AQH mare Dynamite less than 2 months ago. My heart still hurts and I sometimes still cry when I run across her picture. Hugs to you and hang in there.
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Comment by Susan on September 19, 2008 at 12:08pm - Things like this always seem so unfair...I'm so sorry for your loss.
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Comment by Nina Kraus on September 19, 2008 at 12:08pm - Oh, how sad. It is always painful when we can't help our wonderful animals and, even worse, when we don't know what is happening. I thank G-d every day for our luck with all our years of breeding we have never lost a baby after birth. We had one that the mare lost while carrying her and she was found in the field. I feel for you, but you did everything you could. As Aubrey says, we are all here for each other.
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Comment by Gimme A Dream on September 18, 2008 at 2:04pm
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I thought it was time to put dear Sammy to rest and off my main page. I'll never forget her and the love we shared, but now it is fall and my other filly, Frilly is showing such great promise. So I'll find other more positive horsey aspects to blog about.
Thank you for all your patience and the nice things you've said, AubreyMo
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