Despite these measures, keeping the swelling to a minimum was a battle. Within minutes after rinsing, Shadow’s feet were covered with oozing serum from the wounds. In several weeks, the burned tissue necrosed and sloughed off with pink tissue forming along the edges of the lesions. The vet’s main worry now was the growth of ‘proud flesh.’ The vet was consulted by telephone once a week with a detailed description of the progress of Shadow’s injuries. To prevent Shadow from biting his wounds, he was fitted with a neoprene muzzle and a wooden neck cradle so that he could not bend his neck and reach his back legs. He wore these for the next two and one-half years. 

When tissue began protruding above the surface of the surrounding uninjured skin, I became concerned and requested a vet check. After a long period of silence and the accompanying look of concern on the vet’s face, I knew that Shadow’s recovery was not good. Proud flesh had grown in to cover the damaged areas at an escalated rate, at places it was nearly an inch thick. The rapid growth rate was probably induced by the electrical burns. The only two options the vet gave me were euthanasia or the Oregon State University Veterinary Hospital. 

Feeling despondent, I sought the advice of a good friend who had many years of experience with horses. She had a stallion with a similar fence accident and that had partially recovered. That horse’s disadvantage was a severed tendon. Her response was that if the horse was valuable to me, monetarily or sentimentally, the initial examination at the vet hospital was worthwhile. They could then inform me what treatments were available and what a prognosis might be. Then I could make my decision. 

On October 21, 1991, Shadow was transported to the OSU Veterinary Teaching Hospital, a place he was to become well acquainted with for the next several years. After the examination and radiographs, equine surgeon Dr. Wayne Schmotzer (who is now at the Bend Equine Medical Center, Bend, Oregon), determined that the underlying tendon and bone were undamaged. That was Shadow’s saving grace. Dr. Schmotzer commented that his injuries were the second worse fence-related case he had ever seen. My friend’s stallion was the worse case. 

Dr. Schmotzer explained the surgery that would be required to debride the proud flesh to the level of tissue with normal epithelial cells. The critical part of recovery would be in controlling the regrowth of proud flesh. Normally, with leg injuries of this type, the wounded area would be dressed with medication and the limb immobilized in a cast. However, since both hind limbs were injured and required immobilization, this would be impossible. 

Another costly treatment would be skin grafts. Because the lesion areas were large, the donor grafts would need to come from another part of h is body, leaving additional surface to heal. The only reasonable treatment option, albeit untried, would be to layer medicated dressings under pressure bandages and hope for the best. The key to suppressing the rate of proud flesh regrowth was to immobilize the legs as much as possible. This meant whole-leg pressure bandages. 

Dr. Schmotzer’s prognosis was guarded. Even if granulation tissue were minimized, the extensive amount of scar tissue would be cosmetically unsightly and thick enough to possibly limit the range of motion in his hocks. I was also warned that recovery would take many months and the bandages would need changing every three to four days. He cautioned that his care would require tremendous determination and diligence on my part and patience from Shadow. His parting words were: “It will take a miracle for this horse to be as he was.” 

I had to make a decision. Was this horse worth the expense and the effort to save? It was then that I realized what Shadow meant to me. Shadow was a year-and-a-half Saddlebred/Arabian cross that my daughter and I had acquired as a neglected yearling. The vet check assured us that despite his obvious malnutrition and parasite belly, with good care and a sound nutrition program, he would regain his health. He was quite an ugly youngster: big ears, gangly and pot-bellied from a large parasite load. But for a yearling, he had a pleasant disposition and enjoyed the presence of people. He had a kind eye and was eager to please. I was not about to lose him now.