Rodney and I are back to work, making progress at the speed of stalactite formation. In rereading the blog, I realized that last Tuesday was only his fourth afternoon session since our restart. It doesn’t matter how inexplicable I find his fears. The gremlins are real to him & they’re not going away quickly.
Meanwhile, when my husband Greg served the evening meal last night, his arthritic, geriatric mare refused to eat. Wouldn’t touch her food. Wouldn’t touch her hay. For her, this is DefCon1. Alert the man with the backhoe. First order of business was to get her dinner out of the field so Rodney wouldn’t steal a second dinner during diagnosis. As Greg lifted the bucket, he realized that it was full of horse poop. She wouldn’t eat her grain for obvious reasons. She wouldn’t eat her hay because she ate her grain first, thank you very much, and would someone from room service please come clean up this mess so that she could eat her dinner? It took a while for his pulse to stop redlining.
What was your most recent equine false alarm?
[Thanks to my Anonymous Critic for the idea to go graphic and to ClipartPal for the art.]