Triple Trouble: Time For Sedation

When Payco decided he’d had enough of his confinement, chaos erupted. From knocking over Kamille to charging at my puppy and taking off down the road, the morning quickly turned into an all-out chase. Read on to find how this wild escape finally earned Payco a daily dose of sedation.

Lately, my horses have been relatively trouble-free — not enough excitement to warrant a true Triple Trouble article, at least — until about two weeks ago. If you’ve been following my series, you’re already familiar with Payco’s situation. He’s been on stall rest since September after suffering a spiral radial fracture. Compared to some of the other horses I’ve had in this situation, Payco has been an absolute angel — *mostly*. He’s been so calm and easy to handle that we haven’t needed to sedate him… until recently, that is.

The morning started like any other: wake up, layer up in multiple clothing items, and trudge down to the barn to feed. Kamille was helping with the chores since it was the weekend. Because of the chilly weather, the barn doors were cracked just enough to let a person slip through. Kamille opened Payco’s stall door to grab his feed pan, and out of nowhere, Payco knocked her over and bolted past her into the barn aisle.

Photo by Marcella Gruchalak

But he wasn’t done there. Payco made a beeline for the front barn door and plowed right through it, breaking free into the driveway. I exchanged a quick glance with Kamille, told her to grab a halter, and started to move toward him. Payco clearly had other plans for the morning.

In an instant, he pinned his ears and charged straight at my five-month-old puppy, Raven. The pure terror in her eyes as she tried to outrun him sent a jolt of fear through me. Payco was in full-on rampage mode, and it wasn’t just Raven he was terrorizing. As she sprinted up the small hill toward the house, she darted into a small hole where the ground had sunk after we ran the water line from the house to the barn. Payco didn’t miss a beat — he jumped over her, clearing the hole, and continued his wild run to the top of the hill before racing across the front yard.

Raven. Photo by Marcella Gruchalak

Kamille’s eyes were as wide as horse turds, and her face was pale as the snow. I couldn’t help but laugh — nervously, of course. It was one of those moments when you’re so overwhelmed by the chaos that all you can do is laugh to keep from losing it. Kamille shot me a look and snapped, “How can you be laughing right now?” Honestly, her distressed reaction just made me laugh harder. As an 11-year-old, she’d never been through a horse rehab process like this one, and I couldn’t help but find the humor in the absurdity of it all.

But that laugh quickly faded when Payco decided to take his rebellion to the next level. Yep, you guessed it — he bolted down the driveway, took a left onto the quiet lane I live on (thankfully, traffic is rare), and dashed up the street, disappearing from view. I’m pretty sure I dropped the F-bomb more times in those few minutes than I ever have in my life.

Trying to come up with a plan, I released the other horses into the pasture, hoping Payco might spot them and be drawn back to the herd. To my relief, it worked. Within seconds, Payco was charging along the fence line, galloping full speed. Kamille, absolutely terrified for everyone’s safety, ran to put the dogs inside. Meanwhile, I grabbed a halter and positioned myself in a spot where Payco would either have to stop or run me down.

Now, a quick note about my pastures: they’re bordered by a tree line, and where Payco was running, there was no way for him to get past me unless he ran right over me. So, there I stood, praying to every deity I could think of that he wouldn’t plow into me. As Payco galloped toward me, I stood tall, got big, and — though I loath to admit it — may have closed my eyes for a brief second.

Apparently, it wasn’t long enough to be a disaster, because what happened next was nothing short of miraculous. Just inches from me, Payco executed a perfect sliding stop — one of his favorite skills — coming to a complete halt with a snort and a toss of his head. In that moment, I was able to slip on the halter and calmly walk him back to his stall.

I fully expected that Payco’s leg would be re-injured and that all the progress he’d made over the past few months would be undone. But after watching him run around like a lunatic, I couldn’t believe my eyes — he looked sound and strong. In the days following, he didn’t take a single lame step.

Payco shortly after his injury. Photo by Marcella Gruchalak

While I still call him every name in the book, there’s never been a clearer sign that a horse on stall rest has *earned* daily sedation. Since that incident, Trazodone has become our best friend. Payco has been much more comfortable in his stall, and Kamille and I have been able to breathe easy again — anxiety attack-free! The puppy, however, may have some slight PTSD!