I Survived

And so did the farrier, thank God. Beau and Scout did their best--even in a heavily drugged state--to kill us all. Richmond tried to sneak in a few "love nips." The horses that I expected to be on their best behavior turned out to be the worst. But in the end, we were able to wrestle them into submission and get the job done.

Today, I feel like I've been beaten by a two-by-four. During the whole ordeal, I didn't realize I was using every muscle in my body to hold huge horse heads and dodge flying hooves. I think I was tense from my head to my toes for the entire three hours of the vet/farrier visit. Remington was the last horse on the schedule. He seemed to know that we thought we were home free, and he decided it was his mission to try to break our collective wills. In my desperation and exhaustion, I actually started doing some kind of weird horse-human meditation. I closed my eyes, leaned in really close to Remi's temple, and just started breathing slowly and deeply. I think he actually picked up on the calmness I was trying to project because he went from being a red-eyed, fire snorting demon horse to one that was just slightly bratty.

All I know is that I need a massage and several glasses of wine thank you very much!

But there is some good news to report--it truly wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Two of the six equines were perfect gentlemen. And the farrier didn't seem nearly as uspet over my boys' bad behavior as I was. He agreed to come back in seven weeks to do it all again, and that's pretty darned fantastic.

Thank you all for your positive thoughts, prayers, and crossed fingers. I really do think they helped!

Trouble is Looming ...

... and it's coming in the form of 16 legs, 16 hooves, and two sets of long ears.

Tomorrow is a day I've been dreading for several weeks--hoof trimming time coupled with the annual visit by the horse vet. Never mind that these two visits are going to put a massive dent in the old pocketbook. I've resigned myself to that and if it was the only thing I had to deal with, life would be grand. No. I'm concerned about the attitudes of certain members of the equine contingent here on the little farm. Gravely concerned.

The two donkeys hate/loathe/detest both the farrier and the vet. Even though they aren't much bigger than the German Shepherds, the jackazzes weigh a heckuva lot more and are much more violent when asked to do something that they don't want to do. And trust me--they don't want to do much of anything unless food, hugs, or back massages are involved.

Then there's two of the horses--Stretch and Richmond. Stretch decided several months back that after 24 years of putting up with hoof trims and shoes, he just ain't having it anymore. He is now a total terror for the farrier. And Richmond--our huge tank of a Paint horse--decided somewhere along the way that it would be fun to sneak in a few bites on the farrier's butt whenever possible. And if that's not bratty enough, he decided that maybe he could just fall right over for good measure. Did I mention that he's built like a freakin' tank?

Farriers are hard to come by around these parts, and we've already lost several due to these miscreants' bad behavior. One actually broke down and CRIED during her final visit because my guys were so bad. I've had a few others since then and for some reason, they never return my calls after their first visit. Hmmm. Tomorrow, we're trying another new guy and I am praying with all of my might that everyone will behave. The vet is helping with the donks in the form of two needles filled with "Sleepy Time." But the farrier is on his own when it comes to Stretch Man and Richmond. God help him!

So send positive thoughts and prayers my way tomorrow between 1:00 and 3:00 p.m. central time. I may be the one needing the horse tranquilizers after all is said and done.