Name that Tumor

My personal horse (as opposed to the horses I work with carriage driving) is L.P. Prairie Dreamer. He is a 20 year old triple registered Appaloosa (ApHc; Appaloosa Horse Club. ICAA; International Colored Appaloosa Assn., Ranger Bred Appaloosa Assn.) When The Husband and I first purchased Dreamer he was a three year old who had been shown by his owner/breeder on the "A" (club) circuit from the time he was a foal.

Dreamer was a handful, but that's what you get when you buy a smart horse.(His nickname is "Mr L.P. Prairie-butthead") He refused to walk through any kind of mud or water; a trait I believe he developed because he was constantly forced to stay clean

(big white blanket + horse shows = many baths). He was a funny fellow- he got a kick out of removing The Husbands pager off of his belt and holding it in his mouth. Once, while in his stall, he removed the jacket of the girl who was grooming the Palomino across the barn aisle from him (his arch nemesis; the Palomino not the owner) from the bars across the front of his stall, dunked it in his water bucket, dragged it through his dirty shavings, and then hung it back on the bars. In his defense, she used to leave her horses stall door open while she would go and get her tack. Her horse, Sonny, would lurk just inside the door and wait until another horse passed by, at which time he would lunge out, bite the horses in the ass, and jump back in his stall, all innocent. I believe I saw him looking at the ceiling, whistling, after one of these attacks.


Several years ago at his current residence the stable hand let him roam the barn lot while she tended to his stall cleaning chore. He took the liberty of removing her key ring from the picnic table, and, after she moved on to muck out another one, deposit them in his stall.

I think he was planning to borrow her vehicle for a late night beer run.

The next day she found them while, once again, cleaning his stall. She was going to call a locksmith later that day. She swore he snickered at her.

Dreamer has a history of "growths."
It began back in 1992 when, preparing to take him to the World Championship Appaloosa Show in Fort Worth, Texas, we noticed a pinky finger sized growth protruding from the inside of his right front fore leg. For simplicity's sake, let's call that his "leg pit" (because, you know, he doesn't have arms). So the vet came out, removed the growth, we let it heal, and off to the show we went.

Fast forward to the present.


His growth has come back, gradually, over the past few years. I have had several vets look at it, and none of them could tell me what the heck it was. One offered to "try" an ointment made of apricot pits but, at $150.00 an ounce (were they virgin apricots made from gold that produced 100 barrels of crude oil each day?), he couldn't tell me if it would work or not. Another suggested that the growths were warts, and doing surgery on them would only make them spread more. So, since it wasn't painful, did not impede his movement, was in an area that, if cut out, would not be able to be stitched up without having the stitches tear every time he moved, we just let it go. He's been retired from showing for years now, so all I ever do is hack around on him anyway.


Part of his growth went into hyper-overdrive last month and began to increase in size. So we called out a vet and he did a biopsy. I'll find out the results later this week. Until then, if you think you know what this is, please Name that Tumor.

Right now I'm calling it "Stan." And if it keeps growing, pretty soon Stan is gonna need his own stall.

On 1/29/09 Slave Driver added the following;
Dr. Buzz called, it's a Sarcoid, and he's going to treat it by freezing it.