Monday, August 14, 2006

Conversations with my car

The vet was right the first time. Asshole, the horse, does have laminitis. Unlike Barbaro who has a catastrophic case, Asshole doesn't and if all goes well in time he can recover.

What caused it? Who the hell knows.

Part of the treatment involves totally eliminating any and all feed from his diet. All natural, no manufactured carbohydrates of any sort. He can have grass — There's none left in the yard or anywhere else now. He and "Dingbat," the other Quarter horse, have eaten it all. — hay and ($16.50 a bale) alfalfa hay. And because alfalfa is so expensive, Dingbat ain't getting none of that.

This has led to utter chaos at feeding time.

Since Asshole can't have any feed he has alfalfa in his hay rack. With as expensive as it is you'd think he'd be thrilled, but no. He doesn't want it. He can hear Dingbat eating his feed and he wants that. It's feeding time and that's when he's supposed to have feed! In his pan!

Meanwhile, instead of eating Dingbat plays with his feed for a half an hour or so, nibbling, because what he really wants is Asshole's alfalfa!

They're driving each other nuts over the stall wall. Me? I didn't have far to go before but now? Now, I.Am.There.

How "there" am I?

I pulled in the other day after a(nother) trip to the hardware store, this one to pick up more clips to lower Dingbat's feed pan even more to make even more certain that Asshole can't reach it over the wall. I clicked the key fob to lock the doors, and yelled "SHUT UP!" at my car when it beeped. To make matters even worse, I then began apologizing to it for speaking so roughly. To make matters worse still, I didn't know until I turned around that I had an audience watching me patting its hood as I stood there talking to it.

According to the vet the wound on Asshole's neck from the spider bite is healing well. "That looks good?" Going into week three, there's still puss pockets around it with . . . goo coming out, but that's good because that means it's still draining! Naturally!!! Herself (remember, she's a nurse) looked at it yesterday and had the audacity to agree with the vet.

There's a reason for the saying that a pill is big enough to choke a horse, and Asshole has been on 12 of those horse-chokers twice a day. (One prescription finished yesterday morning, so now it's down to two, twice daily.) That wasn't a problem before because I'd dissolve them in water, mix in some of his beloved apple-flavored electrolytes to mask their bitter taste, and then dump the mess over his feed. But now Asshole can't have any.

So, I cut up a couple of apples, bore a little hole in each piece and bury a pill inside.

Asshole takes the individual chunks readily. His face is filled with a look of utter contentment as he chews and chews and chews. And then spits the pill out.

You know how restaurants ask customers to complete survey cards to rate their dining experience? This morning Asshole commented on his new cuisine by dropping a "dump" in his feed pan.

On other fun subjects since I last blogged:

Da Kid discovered somebody has been going into our garage and helping themselves to stuff. Hubby then discovered more stuff gone. Later Da Kid found the paint sprayer in a another corner of the garage where Hubby (he denies all knowledge) apparently put it while looking for Da Kid's missing industrial weed eater which he'd forgotten he'd loaned to a neighbor a month ago. The neighbor who reminded Da Kid he still has his leaf blower, too, and has for two years. Da Kid's chainsaw remains missing, though, although I dimly recalled the possibility that Da Kid had loaned it to another neighbor who also doesn't return anything.

Saturday morning brought a visit from Animal Control after an anonymous complaint about the horses. I figured someone might have called because Asshole looks like shit (He does.) but no. Someone had called in a complaint saying the horses don't have any shelter. Interestingly enough, I spotted the inspector pulling up just as I was pushing the manure-filled wheelbarrow out of the stalls.

And, my computer is acting up so if I disappear for a while it's either that, I'm in jail . . . or busy talking to my car again.

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8 Comments:

Blogger GUYK said...

If you can find it try some clean prairie hay. It is not as hot as the alfalfa but has enough protein for a horse that is standing i a stall and not getting a heck of a lot of exercise. And it is usually cheaper than alfalfa. We used to feed it with a quart of oats and kept some cow ponies in good shape.

9:21 PM  
Blogger Jenna said...

Is it bad that I'm laughing with [at] you?

Because if I don't laugh, I might just cry. Sympathies.

10:34 AM  
Blogger ABFreedom said...

Hmmmm .. sounds like you had a great day .. LOL ... thats about normal around these parts lately ... ;-)

8:34 PM  
Blogger doyle said...

Just got back in after another <polite cough> rollicking session of "I don't want that! I want what HE'S eating."

I'm going to assume praire hay is like Coastal Bermuda, which is the only horse hay I've ever found available here. Dingbat and Asshole always get plenty of that. The vet wants Asshole to have alfalfa, too.

I would appreciate it if you didn't laugh so loudly, Jenna. At least you weren't in Radio Shack today covered in bits of hay and alfalfa, horse snot stains all over your T-shirt, trying to find a replacement charger for Da Kid's cell phone.

Service was absolutely fantastic.

They couldn't get me back out the door fast enough.

8:41 PM  
Blogger Jenna said...

At least you weren't in Radio Shack today covered in bits of hay and alfalfa, horse snot stains all over your T-shirt, trying to find a replacement charger for Da Kid's cell phone.

No, but yesterday, I was in my older son's school's Media Center for 2nd Grade Orientation with a toddler who kept interrupting to yell, "Mama, I'm poopy!" at the top of his lungs. [He wasn't.]

This was after I spent half the afternoon either answering the phone or hearing my boss answer the phone thusly: "ITS Helpdesk, I'm sorry, but we know our systems are down and no one can register, and no, we don't have a projected up time yet. Is there anything else I can help you with?" [A server had crashed.]

Whee. Fun times.

10:30 AM  
Blogger doyle said...

Jenna: No, but yesterday, I was in my older son's school's Media Center for 2nd Grade Orientation with a toddler who kept interrupting to yell, "Mama, I'm poopy!" at the top of his lungs. [He wasn't.]

Da Kid was a toddler just learning to feed himself. Whatever it was slipped off his spoon. He scooped it back up and smiling brightly at his achievement said, "Fuck!"

I mentioned it to his daycare ladies the next day. No, we must have misunderstood him, the two grandmothers believed.

They didn't exactly say so but I also got the impression that if he really had, it was something he'd picked up at home.

The next day as as I was picking Da Kid up, another toddler, a new one who'd only been there for a few days, scampered by us, found the toy he wanted and happily began chanting . . .

I've always taken a peverse delight when it's someone else's kid.

8:00 PM  
Blogger RightinFlorida said...

Geez...your trials with the horses have left me speachless. I wanted to say 'hang in there' but that doesn't seems enough. But I'm very glad Asshole is better.

8:43 AM  
Blogger doyle said...

It goes with the territory, RiF. You got ‘em (whether horses, dogs or anything else) you do your best by ‘em. Asshole is having ups and downs and will, I'm sure, for a while. Hopefully it will turn out well.

When Asshole's feeling poorly he's relatively easy for me to deal with. When he's feeling better . . .

Asshole can't help being one. It was bred into him. He's got generations of AQHA Hall of Famers on both sides, was gelded way too late after it became obvious he had none of their sterling racing qualities to pass on, then bounced around before ending up here 15 (or so) years ago. Bought him from a "good friend" at the suggestion of our riding instructor for Da Kid. Horse had even been used as a mount for kids receiving instruction at one of the big barns in the area!

Everything checked out but little did I know and later discovered, the reason he was no longer being used as a mount for kids receiving riding lessons was that he kept dumping them. That all the big money training my "good friend" kept shipping him off to after that, was 'cause she couldn't handle him.

Or that every time Da Kid rode the horse before I bought him, my "good friend" and our instructor slipped him a little something to calm him down.

Coulda sold him, shoulda sold him, woulda sold him long ago except he was so damned good with Hubby.

Hubby who knew everything there was to know about riding 'cause he usta watch Gene Autry.

9:05 PM  

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