Sunday, May 23, 2010

One of the five. You pick.

There are a few names for this post. I thought of them while I was walking mutchie.
1. I think my horse thinks I need a hobby because I bug him too much.
2. In the words of CB ("The Teenager"): "Slubini, sometimes to be a good horse person it means having to leave your horse alone."
3. "Hello, everyone. My name is Slub. I'm a dumbass."
4. "R E S P E C T, my horse has NONE for me...sockittome, sockittome...."
5. "hey asswipe, stop wearing flip flops to the barn."

It really wasn't his fault. I mean really. Although he should not be biting me at ALL, I was warned. I KNEW it was going to happen and instead of ending the whole thing with him tolerating me petting him on the neck, I pushed.

What I did to Dusty today was not unlike if you had gone to the gym and worked out muscles you don't even know exist. Say, you were pretty much miserable in pain but dealing with people making you do things such as MOVE. Then you are done doing things and you get to sit on the couch and here I come poking and petting and just basically bothering you to high hell.
Then you tell me a FEW times that you're going to give me a black eye if I don't stop.
I don't stop.
You EVEN tolerate me poking a few more times...until, Until! My finger ends up in your crushing jaws!!

I shit you not people. He bit me again. And I knew it was going to happen.
Please don't tell anyone. Its getting embarrassing.

See, It was rainy and none of the horses had gone out all day. The rain cleared up when I arrived and I decided this was the perfect time to get the ball and horse out and head to his pasture. The other time I tried this at this barn there were horses in the pastures and they began to run, because if you have seen the video(s) of my horse playing with the ball you see he really steps up to the plate. He's Prix St. Georges of the Jolly Ball. So my efforts that day were cut short.

No horses out, dusty and I in his pasture (after lunging) I'm kicking the ball to him and he is doing airs above the ground playing with it. As usual he runs to the gate and watches me kicking and playing with it like a soccer ball. He waits. Then I kick it closer to where he is. And then I wait. Soon as I turn around he goes to the ball and leaps over it, picks it up throws it, stomps on it and it is TRUELY HILARIOUS when it rolls between his front legs to his back end, he gets so mad! Finally, he'll throw a buck and grab it, shake it back and forth in his mouth and start RUNNING. He runs two laps and he changes leads so swift you don't even see it happen. I'm standing in the middle of the large pasture watching him fly like the wind, My heart bursts with adoration of this animal. Nearing the trees he stretches out like a slinky in order to make it under the lower branches it's so incredible to watch. I will do that with him someday (on purpose).
I hold out my hand, palm up (I've taught him to come to me this way)
He turns around, and is now running straight. towards, me. 
Uhmmmmm. I held my arms up and he turned.
So, I caved on the little game of chicken with a thousand pound animal.
I held out my hand once more and he circled in to me. About 20 feet in front of me he went to a trot, so I stood looking down.
He stopped about five paces in front of me. I pet him. "omg! this is so cool!" I'm thinking. Whoa! He's breathing really heavy. First thing I do is collect the ball, game off. He needs to walk to cool down. I started walking toward the fence to grab his halter and I realized that he was already following me. We circled the whole pasture. We did some figure 8's and some circles. Stopping, backing, he was RIGHT there every time, no leash and not in my space. He gets a shower and we go graze on the other side of the property. He on grass and I on the berries that cover the lush yard.

Berries on the farm!!

I thought he would maybe be sore.
Yesterday he looked fine and I rode him he felt really good, nice trot. A good ride. Oh, and he was nice.
But not today. I was going to ride but it was raining so I packed my breeches into a bag and slipped on a skirt and flip flops.  Headed out to pick up the teenager and killer b. One goes to Baseball practice and one goes to barn with me.

There are a few dressage saddles for sale going around so Leggs came over to check the fit on Dusty. She went into his stall and he was NOT NICE. "OMG, he's SORE DOOD! He's that crabby?! he has to be sore!" I said- I guess in an effort to save him from her punching his crooked blaze off.
Then I connected it. He needs two days. The second day he needs something for his pain. I'm not into bute so I was thinking perhaps some BL Solution the day of workout/craziness. I guess it would make a difference to days after...(hmmm)
Leggs can't give lessons in the rain so she leaves the teenager there with me and heads into town.

So then I pretty much did what I said above all that other stuff and I got it. He bit the crap out of my finger.  Right hand pointie. right on the knuckle.
I looked saw no blood, but it hurt!
I grabbed the halter off the door and tried to smack him with the end of the lead. it didn't reach.
I had FLIP FLOPS ON. I'm stupid, but that's a death sentence. I'm not going in there.
I threw the whole thing at him and he slipped and fell in his stall because its humid out and even though there's enough sawdust, it happened. He looked really surprised and jumped right up. Scurried into the corner. I screamed at him. "BUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHAAAGGGHHHH!!!!" ...I was the only one around. I look down and there is blood everywhere. I can bend it. I can feel the tip of it.
Where's the ice? I'm good. It's all good. fine. fine. yah I'm fine (except for the sight of blood like that makes me faint-able.)
ok, time to go.
I head over to the other side of the property where the teenager is grooming her ponies.
"hey, cb, you ready to go?"
"yah, I'm ready. What happened?"
"ohhhh. nothing. ummm yah know, just one of those things...uhm. yah. I should've left him alone. It was my fault. totally." I said to her
"He BIT you AGAIN?!"
"Don't tell anyone!" I say.

We were looking at it in the light. Its just a small wound but its bleeding a lot! and AND AHHHHND I look and see that it looks like it has a tiny splinter sticking straight out of it.
Weird. There was no wood involved in the whole thing.
"CB! CB! what is this little thing sticking out of it?"
She looks closer and gives into her stomach. As did I when I realized that that little thing is not a splinter of any kind! I think its part of my vein! or nerve! or artery!

 Its our little secret for a whole three minutes. "CB, can you please call your mum for me?" I sunk my hand into a bag of ice from the connivence store on the corner.
I let leggs know that I might need to go to the hospital.
"My heart's not hanging out, but I think my vein is. Dontworryaboutwhathappened. Can you look at it when we get there?"
I'm driving down the highway and I got all sweaty. REALLY sweaty.
ooh I know what this means. I open all the windows, "sorry, Cb I need some air."
I could feel my whole body break out into a sweat all at one time. Profusely. I've got to be turning ghostly as we are driving over the bay bridge. I took some deep breaths and in a few minutes I felt a bit better.

Made it to Leggs hobbitty house and her boyhusfriend checked it out, He's in the medical field so he's got some little magnifying gadget out to look at it as I convulsed all over the floor. They both pretty much confirmed I didn't need emergency because whatever it is WILL DRY UP AND FALL OFF.

I'm sitting there at the kitchen table trying to get my stomach back, stop thinking about my vein hanging out of my finger, how bad it hurts and how dumb I was today.

Leggs says "should I make some foods?" and just like that I felt better. She said food. Even with a bum finger and a crushed ego best friends know just exactly how to make it all RITE. I enjoyed LOST on an awesome TV and Legg's Chicken Stuffed with Cream Cheese Wrapped in Bacon, kick ass my favorite rice, and a yummy yummy salad.

I almost forgot about my finger until....(to be continued)

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