Boomerang's Pearl

Boomerang, my survivor.

Boomerang in the emergency hospital.

Boomerang's pearl.

Enjoying a romp in the arena.

Back in his paddock, safe and sound.

Every year in October, I’m called to the town of Santa Maria, California, on business. I drive up Friday afternoon, all of my co-workers get together for dinner at this great Chinese restaurant, and then we get ready for a full weekend event. On Sunday afternoon, I’m the first in my car and heading back to my little mountain town.

Three years ago, I had a life-changing event that began during that Santa Maria trip. Sunday morning, I got up and hit the breakfast buffet at the hotel when I got a call on my cell phone. It was one of the boarders at the ranch where I keep my horse, Boomerang.

“Shelby, it looks like Boomerang is trying to colic and we need to know what you want to do.” It was Nick who had a horse stalled a couple of paddocks down from Boomerang.

After telling me that he was found lying down in his stall and was sweating profusely, I told them to get the vet out there immediately and call me as soon as he got there. About two hours later, the vet called and said that he had treated Boomerang for colic and would check on him later. (I won’t go in to everything they do – it certainly isn’t pleasant for the horse – but he was slightly sedated, stomach tubed with oil, and the whole “exhaust system” was cleaned out). I called back about an hour after that and was told that he wasn’t showing any improvement and I needed to get there.

A regular drive from Santa Maria to the ranch is about two and a half hours. I think I broke every land speed record!

A colicky horse will lie down and roll in an attempt to get relief from the pain. They can easily twist an intestine and can die a very painful death. After arriving, I started walking him in the arena but he was intent on lying down, so I made the decision to get him to the Equine Emergency Clinic in Somis, about an hour away. We loaded him the owner’s trailer and off he went – I followed in the car. Unfortunately, we had to take a detour as the freeway was closed (I think due to a fire). Poor Boomerang had to go over Grimes Canyon, a twisty, windy road that is a challenge even in a regular car. And Boomerang HATES to be trailered.

When we arrived, a vet was waiting and he was immediately taken in for x-rays. The vet told me that Boomerang had an enterolith (in layman’s terms, a “stone”) that was lodged in his small intestine. If it wasn’t removed it could tear his intestine and the situation would become dire.

What is a stone or enterolith? An enterolith is to a horse what a pearl is to a clam. Way back when, Boomerang probably ingested a small pebble that didn’t pass through his system. The pebble started collecting calcium and other minerals around it and it slowly got bigger and bigger, just rolling around in his stomach. Eventually, it decided it wanted out, but by that time it was too large to slip through his intestines.

X-rays had shown that it was an extremely survivable operation. But, it was expensive. “We need a $5,000 deposit. After the surgery, we will have a better idea how much the total will be, since there will be probably a two week stay, meds, etc.,” I was informed. I reached in to my purse and gave her a credit card. “Run it!”

Through the course of the conversation, the vet tech asked how much I’d paid for Boomerang. Knowing where he was going with the question I said firmly, “$2,500. Run the card!”

They took him in to the prep room and the assistant asked if I wanted to watch the surgery from the overhead viewing room. Had it been someone else’s horse, I might have. Since it was my boy, I couldn’t. So, I waited in the front office waiting room from about 6 p.m. until 10:30 p.m. Occasionally, someone would come in to the room and tell me that Boomerang was doing well – I truly appreciated that.

About 10:30, the vet came in to the room and told me that Boomerang was in the recovery room and had already stood up. The intestine had not been ruptured, but it was very bruised, and barring any setback, they thought he’d be fine. I was completely spent, and told them I’d be back in the morning to see him.

Wouldn’t you know that night was one of the foggiest that I can remember. I reached the top of Grimes Canyon and the fog had banked on the other side. Some guy was standing outside his BMW and as I passed he got in his car and followed me down the other side. I figured he didn’t know the road well, so I drove slowly – he didn’t seem to mind. He ended going the same way as I was, and I don’t think we got over 40 mph on the highway the entire way back. Waving goodbye, he got on the freeway, and I went on home – and promptly collapsed!

I went to see my boy the following day and marveled at how they could keep him hooked up to fluids and yet he could walk freely around the stall and even lay down. Fortunately, Somis is close to Ventura, so I’d make a daily lunch visit every day. He hated being inside a barn and would nicker as I’d sing, “Booomeraaaang” as I walked in. The day we arrived to pick him up, I was unaware that they’d put him in an outside stall. We pulled up, I got out of the truck, and Boomerang let out a loud neigh. He was ready to go home and was never so happy to get inside a trailer in his life.

I didn’t cry during the whole ordeal until he was back, safe in his stall. Then…I lost it.

They gave me the stone that they removed from Boomerang. After all, I paid for it (total bill was close to $10,000 by the time after care checkups and the occasional setback were totaled in). It is very hard and is pretty smooth...and very heavy.

I often think about sawing it in half, hopefully finding an image of the Virgin Mary inside, and selling it to some casino and making all my money back – and then some!