Suckers! Go get me another fucking carrot!

Suckers! Go get me another fucking carrot!

Yesterday, Jane began to go lame. We figured she’d developed foot rot from all the rain. She was shivering and favoring all her feet. About mid-day she went down, baring her teeth in the death face and groaning. She ground her teeth a little and showed me that her joints were cracking.

Tammie phoned the vet to set up an emergency appointment while I assumed the worst (colic) and started feeding Jane cored apples filled with corn oil and mineral supplement. I started searching the web and the closest symptom match I could find was “stifle injury”, which is the human equivalent of being kneecapped with a ten gauge shotgun.

I visited her during the night to talk to her and give her treats , which she did not refuse. In the early light I went out to the field to find her standing up. She was searching my pockets and asking me where’s the m’fucking apples.

By broad daylight she was cantering around the field, looking for barrels to leap. When the vet showed up, he said he’d seen four cases of the same thing this week. He thought there was an outside chance it might be upper motor neuron syndrome.

I think the equines have conspired with him to net twice his usual  monthly allowance of gas money.

I used to think mules were a better investment of time and money than children. They learn quicker, and they can drive your drunk ass to town or away from town way before a human child could cop a license. But last night, looking at that prostrate bulk in the moonlight, all I could think was, some shithead has got to do a lot of digging.