Alright folks, buckle up. Today was another one of those days messin’ with horses where you realize stupid tiny bones can cause stupid big problems. Sesamoids – yeah, those little pebbles hiding near the hoof joint. Total troublemakers. I figured I’d walk you through exactly how I spotted the signs my big dumb gelding Chester might be dealin’ with sesamoid crap, ’cause trust me, it ain’t always obvious.
The Stupid Start
It began like any other muddy Tuesday mornin’. Dragged my butt outta bed, brewed some sludge they call coffee, and stumbled out to the paddock. Chester usually meets me at the gate like a freight train hungry for breakfast. Not today. He shuffled over slow, kinda stiff. Figured he was just bein’ lazy or maybe slept funny. Fed him, mucked out, pushed it outta my mind.
Tacked him up later for a light ride. Threw the saddle on – no fuss. Mounted up… and felt it. This little hop-step just as I settled in the saddle. Like he shifted his back feet weird quick. Didn’t feel right. Felt like he was avoidin’ settin’ one hoof down flat. Made a mental note – “That was dumb.”
Payin’ Attention (For Once)
Rode him out on the flat bit first. Kept it easy. Watching his back feet now, actually lookin’ instead of daydreamin’ about lunch. Noticed it again: walking on soft dirt, his left hind hoof landed kinda… shallow? Almost tippy-toed for a split second instead of plantin’ the whole foot. Like he was touchin’ down hot coal instead of dirt. Subtle. Easy to miss if you ain’t huntin’ for it.
Hopped off, decided to get my hands dirty. Grabbed that left hoof like usual to pick it out. Felt him tense up just before I lifted it. Not a big pull-away, just a little brace through his shoulder. Weird. Held it up, cleaned the gunk. Poked around where his pastern meets the hoof, right near the back. Pressed my thumb in deep along the inside – near where those stupid little sesamoids live. Bingo. Felt the tiniest flinch, a muscle twitch shootin’ up his leg. He didn’t kick out or nothin’ dramatic, just a quick little “hey quit it” twitch. Done this a thousand times… he ain’t normally this touchy.
Putting the Stupid Puzzle Together
Stood back. Watched him stand. Check this:
- He was restin’ that left hind, not flat on the hoof, just barely touchin’.
- When he shifted weight, he moved super careful off that leg.
- No heat I could feel on the hoof itself. No obvious swelling either.
That’s the sneaky part. No dramatic limp. No major swelling. Just little things – the slightly short step, the flinch when I probed deep, the careful way he stood. All pointin’ to those stupid little hidden bones makin’ his life awkward.
What Happened Next? Panic. Obviously.
Called the vet immediately. Didn’t ride him another step. Explained every stupid little sign I’d noticed – the landing shallow, the foot-shuffle when I mounted, the flinch touchin’ that spot. Felt like an idiot rattlin’ off such minor stuff, but screw it, better safe. Vet came out, probed the same spot, watched him move… sure enough. Early sesamoiditis brewing. No catastrophe yet thanks to catchin’ the dumb warning signs early, but enough to need rest, cold hosing, maybe some special shoes. Total pain my butt.
Whole thing got me thinkin’. Messed up how something so small can be such a big deal, and how easy them signs are to blow off as “nothin’.” You gotta be lookin’ for the small stupid stuff – the way they land a foot, how they stand at rest, any little flinch when you touch certain spots. No drama, just clues. Pays to pay attention, even on muddy Tuesdays when you’d rather be anywhere else.
