The Andrea Effect

Everybody who knows me has accepted that things seem to happen to me.  I have been asked to write down these stories for years.  This entire blog is an attempt to recall as many of these occasions as possible in short entries.  I could write about car accidents, horse accidents, or that one time my house was struck by lightening and burned to the ground with all of my material possessions, but those seem too obvious. There was also the poo pit incident...but you can look in the travelingvettech.blogspot.com blog for that and my other Rwandan adventures. Sure, I could write an entire entry for each one of these incidents, but I would like to complete this blog before I am 90, or at the very least leave time for new stories as they occur.  Here are some slightly abbreviated versions of my friends' favorite "Andrea Effect" stories.  If I have missed one that you would love for me to retell, please let me know.  Always happy to oblige.

Weird things have always happened around me, to me, or because of me.  I used to think that I must somehow cause these situations...yet, some remain impossible to find causation.  I like to think that I am just super observant.  It is hard to deny that I am the common denominator in each of these stories.  Perhaps if everyone had more situational awareness, they would see all of these things happening around them as well. Some of these happenings are horrible, some are great strokes of luck, some are scary...yet all are funny (or at least character building) in the end.  I am known for being in the middle of a stressful situation and saying, well, at least this will make a good story later.  Life became much easier for me when I learned to laugh at myself- I strongly recommend learning this skill if you have not.  It has been the single most useful adult skill I have acquired.

Ready to load up!

A few weeks ago my friend Hannah and I decided to compete in a judged trail ride with her baby horse, Rigby, and Quinn (a 10 mile trail with "obstacles" every mile or so- some scary some technical- you are judged based on your communication with your horse to effectively complete said obstacle).  Hannah has a stronger truck than mine, and a brand spanking new trailer, so she generously offered to drive us the hour to the competition.  Hannah arrives, we load up all my gear, squeeze Quinn next to her horse and off we were!   We got about 3 miles from my place when we noticed the truck having some trouble.  Tried to ignore it for a few more miles, but of course realized that wouldn't work. (Strange, mechanical things do not seem to fix themselves- yet I will try to ignore every time.) We found a safe place to pull over to take a look.  I am unfortunately experienced in being broken down on the side of the road with a horse trailer, so I thought we could look for some obvious issues.  Unfortunately, everything obvious seemed fine.  We decided we should cut through the road we were on to get back to my place and we would just swap rigs and be on our way again.  Sounded like a great plan...until we needed to get up a slight hill.  The truck said no thank you and just quit.  Hannah was able to semi safely pull off into a grassy ditch.  At this point, the brakes on the trailer were smoking, although the emergency brake was not triggered.  I called everyone I knew in the area, hoping that someone could come get me, take me home to get my rig and then somehow, on this 2 lane road, we would have to unload and reload the horses and leave her rig.  Not one person was around to help.  I was about to hitchhike home, when I had a stroke of genius.  I suggested we simply unplug the electric on the trailer all together in case it was shorting out.  Bam! Success!  We were able to limp home.  I actually ran down the driveway to grab my keys and truck...anyone who knows me knows how I detest running. Not like a normal person dislikes it, I have a real hatred for the act.  I refuse to run unless whatever is chasing me is much larger than me. I am a fighter not a flighter. I yelled over my shoulder "Hey Hannah!  Look I am an athlete!"

Long day

Team Wholesale Eventing

 In record time we had hitched up my trailer, only to find the emergency brake on mine was snapped off (likely caught in a weed whacker). At least it was usable. Hannah's amazing off the track thoroughbred just reloaded like it was nothing and off we went!   We ended up having a fabulous (although long) day and both horses placed highly!  Turns out, Hannah's truck just had a clogged fuel filter, and the trailer problem remains a mystery...but all seems ok now.  No big deal, just another day...

My first truck and trailer breakdown happened on one of the hottest days in July a few years ago.  I had Quinn all tacked up in the trailer and Bax riding with me as we headed to my friend Colleen's barn nearby to go for a trail ride.  As I headed up a slight hill on a main highway, my truck just completely died.  I mean, no electric, no AC, nothing.  Fortunately I was right next to a huge turn lane and shoulder and was able to safely pull off.  I called for a tow truck and Colleen. Nobody driving by (even those with empty trailers exiting slowly on that ramp) stopped to ask if I needed help.  For the record, I have never passed a broken down horse trailer without checking.  Finally a police officer stopped.  He was able to put some cones up and give me a little more of a safe space while we waited.

Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do?

Colleen was able to come with her truck.  I was really worried about Bax in the heat, so the police officer was kind enough to let Bax hang out in the cruiser.  The entire ordeal was worth it for that picture.  Meanwhile, the tow truck arrives.  The plan was to unload Quinn (on the side of a very busy highway) lead him down the exit ramp where he would wait with Colleen while we disconnected the trailer, got my truck towed, and pulled my friend's truck up to hitch up to my trailer. No big deal (major eye roll)  Meanwhile, her truck is a lot higher than mine, which led to some pretty athletic antics by the officer and tow truck guy, but we finally managed to get hooked up.  Quinn was a super star.  Ignored the traffic on the way out, and loaded up perfectly to go back home. I was pretty happy for all of our bombproof training when he was a baby at that moment.  Needless to say, our ride was postponed to another day.

Go Quinn!

Lacy, New friend Krista, and I braved the rain

Just last week (one week after the Hannah incident) my friend Lacy and I decide to go do the next trail competition.  This time, she drove us from her farm.  As we turn off of interstate 81, we both see a gentleman sprinting across the road.  She noticed he dropped his cell phone.  Being a much nicer person than I am, Lacy insists we pick it up.  With rain falling, and semis honking at us, she does a rolling stop...I jump out, grab the phone and realize that Lacy has not stopped for me.  As I run (yet again) and somehow grab the truck handle, and pull myself in, I made the comment that the guy we were trying to help was probably running because he robbed someone.  We swing into the gas station we watched him go into.  Nowhere to be found.  We asked the cashiers if they saw someone matching that description.  Sure enough, yup, that was the guy that just robbed them.  Although I had many questions and would have liked to hang out to figure out the mystery, Lacy is always thinking.  Grabbed my arm said "Here is his phone, we gotta go!" and we hoofed it out of there as quickly as possible.  Again, we had a great day with Quinn doing very well!

Not from that evening, but typical for these two

Not all of my "only you" stories are horse based.  I was housesitting for my friend Jenny the same week that my job position had changed and I was to be on the road cold calling all day everyday.  I was a bit nervous about this new routine and went to be early so that I could ensure a good night's sleep.  At 1am, I was awoken by two drooling shaking dogs making the "SPCA faces" at me.  Then I heard it.  The unmistakable beep of a low battery in a smoke detector.  Somehow in my sleepy haze, I managed to find 9 volt batteries.  Now the trick became to find the right detector.  I had somehow never noticed before, but this house must have had 97 smoke and CO2 detectors.  I literally had to grab a stool and stand under several groups of them before I found the culprit.  I then managed to somehow not fall off the stool and replaced the battery.  It was now 2am, and I could not go back to sleep.  Fine, I can accept that it was bad luck, bad timing etc.  I got through my work day and came home exhausted.  As I got into bed I joked with my friend that it better not happen again.  Guess what woke me up at 1am?  In my deepest sleepiest state...the dogs once again came to get me.  At least this time I knew where the batteries were.  Grabbed one and a stool and off I went for the hunt.  I wish I had taken a picture from the stool. I looked over and these 2 large tough dogs (Bax and Bella) sharing this tiny piece of rug and staring at me while shaking uncontrollably.  Both sad and ridiculous.  As I tried to get the cover off of the smoke detector that I eventually identified, the old battery fell out and cracked me in the forehead.  Yay.  Now a bruise on my face to go with my new job.  After that housesitting job was done, I came home and was so excited to get some rest.  Guess what I heard?  Yup.  The smoke detector, not in my apartment, but in the hayloft next to my bedroom door ( I live above a barn in a really lovely apartment, but the other half is still used as a working hayloft).  I went to see if I could change the battery, but nope, it was about 30 feet high in the rafters. Had to wait for my landlords the next morning.  Bax was one unhappy pup all night.

Jenny gets a free pass for the smoke detectors in her house as she has had to be my hero on more than one occasion.  I cannot count the times she helped jump start my truck.  One time her hubby came and found that my battery cable had disconnected itself somehow? Anyways, I specialize in mechanical issues.

The ole Tahoe- broken again

 One of my fav pics of Jenny and I having a drama free adventure

Two years ago, I began apartment shopping. I made an appointment to meet with an agent not far from where I was currently living.  I woke up super early to go meet her.  I arrived a few minutes early, before the leasing office opened so I wandered around.  I quickly decided this was likely not going to be somewhere I wanted to live, but thought I owed this woman the decency of hanging around until she showed up.  30 minutes past when she was due to meet me, she still had not shown up.  As I finally decide to leave, I find the only road in and out of the neighborhood completed blocked off.  The agent who was supposed to meet me had somehow managed to take a super wide slow turn even wider, and hit a power line.  She was carted off in an ambulance with minor injuries, but the power line was across the road.  I was stuck.  They said it would be hours before traffic could come through.  Of course.  So, who do I call?  Jenny of course!  Where am I she asks?  Oh I don't know! As she is trying to explain to me how to use the GPS app on my phone (I am technologically a bit behind the times) she finally gave up and somehow still managed to find me based on my giving her some vague landmarks.  Always an adventure when you hang out with me!

Thanks Coco

One time I was sitting at my friend Wendy's pool, catching up, relaxing, and getting some sun when one of her dogs came over to be pet.  Coco sweetly rested her chin on my stomach.  I was petting her, when she suddenly raised her head and puked all over me.  Once again, who does that happen to?

Moon, the adorable colt

Recently, a longtime friend, Debbie, whom I had not seen in awhile called and asked if I would come hold two miniature horses for their shots.  Debbie had injured her shoulder and was unable to do it alone.  I popped right over, no problem.  What Debbie failed to tell me what that these miniature horses were only a year old, and had been shipped from England and then in quarantine for 30 days, and were thoroughly traumatized and scared.  45 minutes later, we finally have them both caught.  To give you the full picture, these horses weigh about 20 lbs less than me, and are the same height as my dog.  Watching them run and buck and try to escape capture may have been one of the more entertaining ways I have spent a morning.  The vet comes in and explains that we will just get them into a corner of a stall and lean on them a little, like a large dog.  We did the little colt first, no problem.  Then it was Comet's turn.  She had other ideas.  I am not quite certain I have seen anything more adorable than a teeny weeny horse rearing and bucking.  Poor thing was so upset, and as we talked softly to her, and tried to calm her, she somehow started running backwards and in a circle.  I can't really describe what happened, and could not recreate it in a million years, but, well, somehow I ended up "riding" her- backwards.  She slipped between my thighs.  My feet were firmly on the ground, so my weight was not on her, but she immediately calmed down.  Apparently my huge thighs were comforting.  All three of us were laughing until there were tears.  Of course I insisted we take a picture or there was not a chance anyone would believe this happened.

Riding Comet

I will end this entry here, although I think I have enough material to go on for days.  To fill in those who are not up to date, life has changed a lot for me in the last five months.  I was laid off from a job that I loved and have had to learn to relax and enjoy life.  I have been fortunate enough to be able to take this time as a real brain break and enjoy the little things in life.  As I work through figuring out what I want to do when I grow up, (open to suggestions!)  I continue to accidentally create more blog fodder. This has come with its own set of Andrea adventures.  In addition to the stories above, I blew out a tire 1 week after the lay off, then lost an entire flock of chickens to a fox, and adopted a new flock including a ridiculous attack rooster...and so much more!  Stay tuned...

There is a chicken in my tub and other tales from the coop...

Although I have been an animal lover since birth, birds were never my favorites.  I did not understand their body language and was confused by their flapping wings, sharp beaks, and vicious talons. Those who know me love to tell stories about be running away from Gus the Goose as a teenager, or hitting the floor when a visiting parrot made a sudden move, and panicking on bird day during vet tech school.  Clearly, I have (mostly) gotten past this, and now my ladies (and one gentleman) are now among my most fascinating pets.  I use the word "pets" rather than "farm animals" on purpose.  Farm animals have a use, a specific value, and earn their keep.  Mine will never earn what I have put into them, but I adore them all the same.

I am coming up on over 17 years as a vet tech (weird, bc I swear I am 23) and I have seen more gruesome and disgusting injuries than most people care to think about.  I have worked in most specialties, including critical care/ER and have seen it all.  My coworkers will tell you that I, like all of them, can handle the worst open fracture, or the dog infested with maggots without hesitation.  I

can get an IV in a seizing patient, draw blood on a tiny kitten, induce vomiting in a dog that ate something toxic, and calculate drug dosages in my head.  Yet, we all have our kryptonite.  Mine happens to be anything eye ball related.  I do not know when this started, or if I was born with it, but the thought of anything happening to an eye is almost unbearable to me.
Over the years, both on the farm and at work, I have had to deal with many scratched corneas, glaucoma patients, and other optical injuries I wish I could forget. Mostly, it is the impalement injuries and pressure checks that I try to steer clear of...oh and the proptosed eyes.  Nope.  No thank you.   (*Proptosed eye- eyeball that has mostly left the head it is supposed to be in.  Usually still connected by various vessels. Creepy when it is still looking around.  Otherwise known as a quick way to get Andrea out of the room. )  I have some great pictures of this, but my father reads this blog, and I have promised nothing too gory. I certainly did not get my strong stomach from him.
Life Tip: If you ever want my dad to butt out of a conversation, start talking about something bloody...works every time. You can thank him for the lack of really good pictures in these stories.

Back to the chickens.  I had finally decided I really wanted to be semi self sufficient.  I had the big garden and mostly fed myself from that all summer and the next logical step seemed to be chickens.  I finally convinced my landlords at the time to allow me to put a small flock on their property.  Previous post has the story of Quinn "assisting" me with that first coop.  I wish I had videos of all of the times I had to catch chickens when I still was not comfortable around them.  I would be a viral hit for sure.  I have split pants, slipped and fallen into "mud", and one time took a dive into a duck pond. Generally, my language during these trysts would make a sailor blush.  Humility is not something I struggle with.  I learned long ago to laugh first, then make sure all of my pieces and parts are working. It is fairly tough to embarrass me these days.

Of course, it was not long until one came up  injured.  So, now there I was, still unsure about how to catch these mini dinosaurs, and I have one with a swollen closed eye.  Great. Somehow, I managed to get this hen into a carrier and into work with me.   My coworkers were used to seeing all dogs and cats, with the occasional guinea pig so they were delighted to have something new to play with.  We diagnosed the injury, which was pretty severe.  I found myself medicating this wild creature's eye many times per day trying to save it.  Unfortunately, in this case, she did lose use of that eye, but went on for another happy year as my favorite (until a hawk snagged her while out free ranging.)  Many lessons learned.  First one is to never have a favorite, as they are the first to get snagged by a predator or disease.  Second is to never name them.  Same reason.

Bum soaking

Swollen bum

After that first farm, I moved to a suburb, and moved Quinn and the ladies to a friend's place.  She already had a flock, and we just mixed them all in happily.  Then one day, I noticed a swelling on one's hind end.  I was still relatively new to this chicken thing, and wasn't sure what it was.  Dr. Google was not super helpful, but between other chicken farmers and some veterinarian friends, I managed to learn how to check for a stuck egg (again, I will spare you the details, but it was fairly unpleasant for both me and the poor hen) and feel for other issues.  I did a lot of soaking the poor girl in disinfecting solutions and giving her extra vitamins and made her a special little house.  In the end, I never figured out what it was, but she did just fine...until, you guessed it, at some point a predator got her as well.  Are you seeing a theme?

What I should have worn checking for an egg
(actually me from another adventure)

Happy little quarantine

So, after a few years of handling these feathered friends, just as I think I have a handle on all of their common ailments, something new comes up.  There was my vet's poor duck.  This duck was a victim of- say it with me now- a predator attack.  She decided we would try to repair the injuries, although they were great.  This vet also trusted me with anesthesia for this duck.  I had never intubated an avian, nor run anesthesia, but she walked me through it all. I was fairly proud of my intubation, and of her surgical skills.  Unfortunately, the anesthesia or trauma, or all of the above was too much for this little one, but again, new skills obtained.

Bandaging Skills

After removing one part of the infection.
I did wear gloves and proper protection during the procedure.

A couple of years ago, I decided to help foster/adopt some chickens that had been severely neglected.  One came with a badly infected claw.  I had not yet had to deal with "bumblefoot" but had read a lot about it.  I did what I could at home to remove the infection, and wrapped the claw.  It was clearly not improving, so I ended up taking her into the vet.  The vet did a more extensive surgery, and i brought her home, but in the end it turned out this entire flock had a terrible bacterial infection was too much for her body to handle.  She at least passed loved, fed, and warm.  Again, sad, but farmer life must go on, and now I learned how to treat a normal bumblefoot if caught early.  I have now successfully treated several birds with this.

Pre-bleaching of my kitchen

some of the fluid removed

Just recently, a friend came over to loan me some antibiotics for a very sick chicken with a respiratory infection, but she also brought along one of hers.  I immediately thought this hen was doomed before I even looked at her because she had a name and was her kid's favorite.  That is a recipe for disaster.  "Pocket" had been off her feed, not laying eggs, and generally looked like death warmed over.  She felt like she was filled with fluid in her lower abdomen.  This is tricky because chickens do not have diaphragms separating their chest cavity from the abdomen, which means, this fluid could be walled off or could be interfering with lungs/heart.  Her breathing was labored and I was not sure what I could offer.  We discussed all of the things that it could be, parasites, infection, stuck egg, cancer, etc.  None of these diseases have great outcomes.  We figured, what the heck, lets give her a chance.  I checked for a stuck egg, nothing there.  She then had a very sick looking bowel movement (on my kitchen floor, because where else would one treat a sick chicken?) We gave her antibiotics (dose by a veterinarian) and decided that the least we could do was to remove some of the fluid from her abdomen to make her more comfortable, although this is generally a very temporary solution as whatever caused the fluid to begin with was not being treated.

Pocket today!

Birds are incredibly delicate.  Sometimes I feel like you look at one sideways and they fall over dead. Yet sometimes...they are tough as nails. We drained some fluid ( not the entire amount, as the large fluid loss could have caused her to go into shock) gave her some meds, vitamins, and some love and hoped for a painless passing.

What is the old saying about not counting your chickens before they are hatched?  Well, apparently, you also should not count your dead chickens before they are dead.  I am happy to report that not only is Pocket still with her family, she is thriving and laying eggs 6 months later!!

My sick baby

Handsome man

Oh, and that very ill hen I was treating?  6 months later "she" is a "he" and loving his life!



That brings us to the chicken in the tub.  The day before Thanksgiving, the weather was absolutely beautiful, although a bit windy.  I was home all day and decided to let the ladies (and gentleman) out for a a bit to forage and play.  I happen to be outside when I heard the crows start cawing loudly.  I did not know what was happening, but looked at my faithful dog, Baxter, and just said get it!  We both went running towards the chickens who were by this time screaming.  I rounded the hill just in time to see Bax with a mouthful of hawk tail feathers!  All the hens had scattered into the woods, but I knew someone had been dropped by the hawk. I began to search, when my tiny little rescue red hen came over to me and flopped on my foot.  Poor thing had been snagged and Baxter had saved her.  Do not ask me how this 10 year old mutt who has never been trained to protect a flock, knew what to do, but I am grateful he did.  I quickly brought little red (no that is not her name, it is simply a description...remember naming is an indirect cause of death) into my apartment, conveniently located above the barn.

Right after attack

Guardian Angel

At first glance, she appeared to just be in shock, with perhaps a bad headache, as one of her eyes was closed tightly. That is the thing about feathers is that they can hide a lot.  As I began to do a full examination, I could see the extent of her injuries.  It was a bit more than a headache.  For the sake of everyone's stomachs, I will not post the pictures, but poor thing was clearly grabbed by talons and then had all of her flight feathers on one wing yanked out.  Basically, she had some punctures, some de-gloving injuries and a head tilt, which I am assuming was a concussion.  I got out the medical kit and went to work cleaning her wounds and applying ointments.  I made her a bed of towels and hand fed her water, vitamins and left her extra treats, like spinach, strawberries and mealworms, to try and boost her body as much as possible. I left her in there with the lights off so she could feel safe and rest. Baxter kept a careful eye on her as I was getting her set up.  He seemed quite concerned.

Tub Chicken

I was not sure she would make it through the night.  She was only interested in drinking if I helped her and had no interest in food. She seemed to be resting comfortably overnight.  I remember thinking how fragile this little creature seemed.  By morning,  I was shocked to see how much she had improved!  Perhaps these little mini dinosaurs are tougher than I give them credit for!  Her eyes were open and she was interested in eating a little!  By day 3, little red seemed to be a little too comfortable inside. I have a friend who always says the crazy cat lady is overdone and I should be the crazy chicken lady and start moving them inside.  As I took a picture to send him, I realized, oh no! It is happening! She went back outside within the hour.  I am happy to report, she is still doing just fine almost 3 months later!

Tub Chicken Today!

If chickens are not your "thing" don't worry, I have plenty of of human, dog, and horse medical cases coming your way soon!

I want to note that I am a licensed veterinary technician. I went to school and have spent close to 2 decades in practice to learn the physiology of many different species as well as how to treat many illnesses and injuries. Although I do perform most of my critter's care alone, I do so under advisement from a veterinarian and I do NOT recommend you attempt to treat any animals without consulting a veterinarian.  Making up drug doses and using Dr. Google is not only unwise, it is flat out dangerous.