Well THAT didn't take long. After one whole day of punishing me for abandoning him, Finneas caved in.
All it took was a little TLC.
Finneas' back leg still has not completely healed.
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Before I left for a month, every day when it wasn't 30* or below and blowing a gale, or when the hoses weren't hopelessly frozen, I'd hose his leg off (with him getting to eat a bucket of oats of course) and then put vet cream on it. Those days and weeks when it just got too cold to hose, the wound crusted back over, then cracked open, over and over. It just didn't make any progress while I was gone for a month. Didn't get worse, didn't get better.
Well. Today - between yesterday's and tonight's snow storms - I set up the water hose, filled a bucket of oats, and yelled out to the horses eating at the hay bale. "FINNEAS!" I held up the bucket and whacked it.
Finneas, who ostracized me yesterday, straightaway left his bale of hay and friends and girlfriend Quickie, and walked up to me, to resume his exalted position as pampered spoiled poor-baby Big Hoss.
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He soaked up the attention (and the oats), and I hosed the leg off for a while, working the scabs off and exposing the healthy flesh underneath.
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When I led Finneas back to the paddock with the other horses and turned him loose, he stood at the fence,
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Guess he's happy to have me back after all.
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