“Hi Peanut. Hey Spotty. How are you doing, Heidi?” I said between usual hellos as I sauntered from stall to stall in the barn, sunlight streaming through the open door at the end of the long hallway.

Then I heard it. The shallow breathing. First faint, then louder as I came near. It soon turned into wheezing, and my heartbeat raced along with my feet as the stalls blurred by my sides. Something was definitely not right. As I peered past a big dappled gray, I saw him. Lying on the floor was the source of the alarming breathing. The poor creature was so frightened. The whites of his eyes showed as he looked at me, frozen.

Slowly, I inched closer, debating whether or not to open the door. I glanced at the white name-plate tied to the right corner of the stall; it read, “Eddie.” I froze. The name resonating through my mind. “He bites.” “Watch out!” “Don’t get near.” The words I’d heard countless times... “The dangerous one, the one no one wanted.” I needed to decipher a plan. I looked over, his side heaving, laying in the soft shavings, eyes closed. The realization set in. This horse needed help and I was the only one who could give it.

My feet had already stepped closer to the fence. Cautiously I put my outstretched hand on the chain holding the door closed, and with my eyes steady on his, I unclipped it. Slowly, I dragged the creaking prison gate ajar. Eddie’s eyes snapped open and rolled back into his head, as he struggled to get up. Clearly he was terrified.

“Woah, it’s OK, Eddie. I’m not here to hurt you, buddy. Everything’s going to be alright,” I reassured him. Suddenly, he groaned and fell back to the floor, exhausted. Sweat dripped off his water-marked neck, breathing heavily, each breath becoming more labored, as if being strangled by an invisible force. What’s wrong with him, I thought, peering through the half-open door. Heavy breathing. Sweat-marked. Nudging his stomach... Colic. It finally clicked.

Needing to get him up and walking, I started toward him, taking baby steps, being extra careful not to spook him more––if that was even possible. Then all the horrible words again flooded my mind: “Stay back.” “Here comes Eddie.” “He can’t be trusted.” All the scenes played through my mind like a movie. Slowly, I backed out of the stall, now I was breathing hard. Breathing deeply, I tried to clear my head. I’ll call someone before I do anything. That’s the logical thing to do, right? I reassured myself, as I rummaged for my phone. Henry...Inez... Jaycee... Jennifer. I pressed on my trainer’s name as I brought the phone to my ear. My eyes flicked back to Eddie, who looked like he’d worsened.

“Hello,” Jennifer said.

“Hi, Jennifer, it’s Erin. Eddie’s sick. I think he has colic,” I stated bluntly as my eyes scanned Eddie’s body, taking it all in. “He’s sweaty, lying on his side, breathing heavily, and nudging his stomach,” I continued.

“Sounds like colic. Get the halter on, and get him to the tack room as soon as possible. I’ll call the vet, but the main thing is to get him walking. Once you get him up, do not let him lay back down, OK? And be careful.”

“OK, thanks. I will,” I said as calmly as I could, and then hung up, trembling, still clutching the halter. I breathed in, taking in all the smells of the barn, and breathed out, trying to steady myself. At least one of us had to stay calm, I told myself. I slowly regained my confidence... I can do this.

All the while, Eddie’s eyes were blank, staring off into space, his stomach heaving. I walked closer, my feet shuffling through the shavings. Then I stopped half way there; I needed a plan of action, to think this through. He was lying down with his hind legs towards me, with his back facing the left side of the fence. I should approach from the left, behind, so if he got spooked and managed to get up, I would be out of harm’s way.

“You can do this,” I said to myself, taking a final, deep breath. Then I walked close, cooing as I went. Now I stood over him, looking down at his head from behind. He looked straight at me, rigid with fright, and his breathing became faster. Slowly I knelt down and put my hand on his face, below his eye, applying pressure ever-so-slightly so he wouldn’t be able to whip his head back and bite me.

“Now for the halter,” I said to him. Gently, I brought it around to his muzzle, keeping the pressure with my other hand. I slipped it under his nose, as best as I could with one hand–there was no way I was going to take my other hand off him–and brought the strap over his head. Now I have him secure–almost. I just have to buckle the halter, I thought to myself. Shaking, I took my hand ever-so-slowly off his face and grabbed onto the strap, hooked it into place, and buckled it.

“Whew,” I breathed, “that wasn’t so bad, huh?” I said with a chuckle, more to myself than Eddie. I grabbed the lead rope and slowly got up. The shavings unsticking themselves from my pants as I moved. I didn’t dare to brush the rest off, to risk spooking him. Now to get you up, I thought. As I walked around to the front of him, I could feel the warm sunshine on my back.

“Now time to get you up, buddy,” I said as I tugged lightly at the lead. “But I can’t do it all by myself,” I told him sternly. “You have to help.” Clucking at Eddie, I pulled the lead rope, urging him to move. Silence. Nothing. He refused to move a muscle.

I tugged harder and harder, my knuckles becoming white. Taking a step back, I managed to lift his head off the ground. He moaned and started to move his back legs. “Good boy, Eddie,” I said urging him on. He brought one hind leg up under him, and then the next. To my relief, he painstakingly stood up, feet splayed apart, like a newborn testing out its legs for the first time. Cautiously, I backed out of the stall, never taking my eyes off his sad, brown eyes. He took a step, still trembling.

“Good boy,” I said. We walked through what seemed to be endless stalls, just me and the horse. Everything else a blur. My mind was focused on one thing: to get him to the tack room.

All of a sudden, he tripped, stumbling forward. While his knees buckled, he moaned in pain. I ran forward–he could NOT lie down. Tugging on the lead rope as hard as I could, I lunged forward and didn’t turn back. I refused to let him lie down. Hearing another groan, I stopped and suddenly the rope slacked. Looking back, I saw him walking slowly toward me.

“It’s OK, buddy, I just couldn’t let you lie down,” I told him while petting his sweaty neck. My free hand had subconsciously moved to the metal ring where the lead clipped on to the halter, so I could hold him back if he lashed out at me. He was breathing hard; both of us were. His neck glistened with sweat, head sinking down, slowly, as if in defeat. I started walking forward, pulling slightly on the lead rope.

We walked past the arena, into the clearing and continued towards the tack room at the edge of the field.

“Jennifer?” I called out, wondering where she could be. I have to keep him walking, I reminded myself. Slowly I meandered toward the tack room, the grass swishing softly over my brown boots. We passed the ancient tree with it’s many engravings–hearts, names, etc. Voices floated from the arena behind us. I turned around, clenching the bristly lead rope. Jennifer and who must be the vet walked towards us with long strides. I looked back at Eddie, coaxing him to turn, knowing how painful it must be.

“Hi, I’m Valerie,” a sweet voice came from behind. Before me stood a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.

“I’m Erin,” I responded, sticking my hand out politely. ?
“Nice to meet you,” she said as we shook hands.

“We must keep Eddie walking,” she stated.

“Oh right,” I mumbled, as she reached out her hand, taking the lead rope.

“You’ve been a great help, Erin; I’m sure he’ll be just fine,” she said seeing the distress in my eyes. Feeling the warm sun on my back, I rested my head on Eddie’s shoulder, and whispered, “You’re in good hands now, buddy.” They walked away, Jennifer and Valerie conversing with concerned faces, as Eddie followed stiffly behind.

I’d always had a sense of what colic was, but, in reality, helping a horse through the torture of it proved to be so much more chaotic than I could’ve ever imagined.