One thing that will always be true about horses is that you can do everything right, but things will still go wrong.
I always feel pretty bad about ditching my horses to go on holiday. Of course I leave them in the capable hands of the cattlemen masquerading as grooms, who have been nagged to death about all the little things they need to do (“Don’t forget to give Skye her pills. You will remember to wet their hay, won’t you?”). Just before leaving I also covered them in poison and repellents for pretty much anything that buzzes, crawls or sucks blood, with the possible exception of vampires (I believe Skye in a temper would be more than a match).
Alas, it only takes one tick to transmit a disease and the unlucky recipient thereof was as always Magic. My heart stood dead still for a few moments when the groom informed us that he looked colicky and didn’t finish his supper. The poor groom was told about fifty times to walk him  and not let him roll, which he faithfully did while the vet rushed out and I prayed.
Walking, vet and God have worked their magic and this morning Magic is standing around and eating. Praise the Lord!
I do suspect I have a couple of grey hairs now. Much as I try not to treat my horses like anything except horses, in my heart they’re still more or less my fluffy kids and it sucked to know that my poor Magic was feeling ill and I wasn’t there to treat him and comfort him. Thanks to good grooms, good vets and above all the good Lord, he looks like he’ll be fine.
He still remains in my prayers today.