Amazing tales of survival, recovery, and medical triumphs

Baby's Story

I've got a success story you've got to hear.

November 16, 1994, someone shot three of my horses in their paddocks. Their names were Chicky, a 9 yr (then) Tenn. Walker, Midnight a 7 yr old pony, and Baby a 11 yr QH.

Sadly, Midnight had been shot in the leg with a high powered rifle. We didn't think he was going to make it, we were told to put him down but I didn't. I took him down to University of Pennsylvania and they said it will take a while but he'd be okay. Today he is okay, and is serving his new owners totally sound. Baby was shot in the left shoulder, for about 15 feet away. Chicky was just peppered in her rear, she really wasn't hurt bad. Both Chicky and Baby were shot with a shot gun.
I was on my way home from work and I was picking up my son (11 months) from my Mother-in-law's when I she got a call. I immediately I felt a pit opening in my stomach even before she told me the phone was for me. It was my mother calling, she said to hurry home because there was something really wrong with Baby.

I left my son with my in-laws and flew home with my 4-way flashers on. I got to the barn and Baby was pressing herself so hard to the split-faced block wall, that when I pulled her away the pattern remained on her side. She couldn't walk, and she was obviously going into shock. I called my Vet, I couldn't speak even when I got his answering service, all I could get out "Baby's been shot!", I couldn't tell her my name, she called Bruce (Vet) and he told her he knew just who it was, he knew Baby and our special bond between us.

He happened to be only 2 miles from my farm, so he made it their with 5 minutes of the call. He examined her, treated her for shock and we cleaned out what pellets were at the surface and cleansed the rest of the huge wound. He said that infection was going to be our biggest fight. He gave me Penicillin and and told me to medicate her with some pain meds if I felt she needed. He also informed me that she will probably not barrel race again (She had been undefeated for two years, and we were planning on running the NBHA the following spring. She could run a full course in 13.35 seconds) but at least she was going to recover, it didn't matter to me if she didn't run again, as long as she wouldn't be in any pain.

He was leaving the next day to go to his home town many states away for his wedding, he left me with the number to call if I needed anything and who would be filling in for him. Everything was textbook for the next 2 days, on the 3rd day I gave her her pm injection of Penicillin, she stood stone still and then exploded. She was flipping around in her stall, smashing her head through the hay rack, rearing and falling over backwards taking out her Dutch doors, doing 4-legged splits and wheezing and coughing. She acted like she was on fire. I called the "on-call" vet, I told him what was happening. He said he would never make it in time and to prepare my self, she was going to die. I had no epinephrine to counter the allergic reaction, he placed a few calls to the local farms that he did business with and found me some about 7 miles away, I flew out there and they gave me the medicine. I got back to the barn and injected her (already down and barely breathing) she began to improve, but she was still having a hard time breathing. I called the Vet again and he said to give her another injection saying "It sounds like it may be too late, but it can't hurt now. Just prepare yourself."

As I laid with her and listened to her raspy breaths, every one sounded as it may be the last. I kept praying she'd make it, I pleaded with Him not to take her from me. She was my best-friend. Loosing her would be like loosing my son. I fell asleep with her in the stall that night, until my husband came and took me down the house, I awoke sometime about 4:30am, hysterical, I had dreamed that she died and came to say good-bye. My husband wouldn't give me the keys to get up to the barn. I couldn't walk, because we've been visited by some bears and coyotes at that time. I pleaded, but he wouldn't give them up. I waited until the first light of day and then walked up, as I entered the barn and looked down the aisle. Seeing her tail laying out of her doorway, I just about passed out, but I managed to keep walking towards her stall. I peeked around the corner and flicked on the light and she lifted her head and gave me a look like "Must you? Didn't we have a rough enough night, and you have to wake me up this early?" I ran in, hugged her and cried and cried and cried. She was going to make it.

Remarkably, she made a complete recovery, and after extensive testing at the University of Pennsylvania, she was given the okay to start running again. She came back and continued her legacy.

She is now my friend's best friend. I had to give her and my farm up after I had Renal Failure in the summer of '98. This year, Ashley (12 yr) and Baby ran up the ranks to compete in the PA 4-H State competition, she placed 3rd.

Not too bad for an old girl that has been through so much.
I hope this can give people hope and encouragement. And the will to never give up.

PS. We never did find out who shot my horses, even after extensive investigation by the PA State Police.

Sincerely,
Tara A. Smithmyer

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