Potting soil and an A$$ kicking...

My Sweet Bella

Okay, I am not one to use profanity on a regular basis, but I sort of had to for this. Read on and you will agree.

Jimmy wasn't feeling well and I decided Tuesday night to keep him home from school on Wednesday. Jimmy was happy with this and while he wasn't fully sick, our spring winds had reved up his asthma and I though a day off would do him well. Sick because of winds, you say? Being a pansy because of a spring breeze? Bite your tongue, dear reader. When I say "wind", I mean "WIND". Sustained at 35-40 with gusts up to 60 and one lovely day in the 90s. There is nothing here on the High Plains to break that wind except for the occasional cow. We have watched our trash cans, kiddie pools and assorted items blow across the pasture. When the wind dies down, we go looking for treasure.

So yes, WINDY. But when we get to school, in the sensory tub is a bunch of potting soil and little tractors. Jimmy decided he felt much better and really wanted to stay at school. I was dissed for potting soil.

Which brings us to the second half of the title.

Last week, my dear filly, Bella, had a wound of her shoulder. It looked as if she rammed a doorway or gate. She is very sweet, but kinda flakey. Of course, being my horse, the wound became infected. I called a wonderful woman, Vicky, whom you might remember from a previous post. She is a lovely Brit who is almost a vet! Well, after placing a call I found out the best solution to drawing out the infection would be a paste of sugar and betadine. So we began pulling Bella into the round pen and treating the wound. Being my horse, one wound isn't enough. Pretty soon we noticed that she could barely walk. A closer exam showed a nail in her hoof. I pulled it out and noticed it looked sheared. Was it always this way? Or had my flakey girl broken a piece of it off in her hoof? I borrowed a metal dector from Jori's son Andrew. No hits, another infection. Okay, I know this one, pack the hoof with ickthamal, wrap in duck tape and hope the infection finds a way out of the hoof.

I went out in the pasture to collect Bella, so that I could change her packing. I brought carrots (thanks to Mom for picking up the really big bag while in San Diego, they're gone...the kids ate them!) out to catch her. Shiloh met me at the gate and I gave him his carrot and started to walk out to Bella. I hear Shiloh coming up behind me and WHAM. He lashed out in jealousy and kicked my butt.Literaly. He kicked my hinney. I had a tizzy at him and said many many unkind words. I vented at length on his ancestry, lack of inteligence in specific and at the ever present wind in general. I went to collect Bella, who, by the way, has learned to stay out of Mr. GrumpyPants's way.

So in one day, I was traded for a tub of potting soil and had my a$$ kicked by my horse.