Day 1: She appears in the darkness, leads me in to the crossties, then inserts dewormer in my mouth. Fine. Lot of volume to this type, but whatever. After a reasonable time to allow for processing, she hands me some of my Herballs. Crunch, crunch. Mild grooming. Back outside.
Day 2: She takes me onto the porch, brushes me, tacks me up, lunges me. Clambers aboard for a ride. We walk around the multipurpose, and into the back pasture, too. She gives me a good grooming after my ride. She then sticks dewormer in my mouth. I'm thinking... didn't I just get this yesterday? Oh, well. After a time, Herballs. Uh, I'm not sure I want those. Mother insists. I consume. Eat my dinner. Back outside.
Day 3: Mother leads me into the crossties. Grabs dewormer. Seriously? She inserts the tube in my mouth. I wrinkle my upper lip, to show her my distaste for the procedure, but otherwise remain immobile. She grooms me awhile. Feeds me Herballs. I don't want Herballs, my mouth tastes awful. She insists. I consume. Eat my dinner. Back outside.
Day 4: It was a dark and stormy night. My fat donkey took refuge as best he could.
He looks happy enough, though, doesn't he? And foolish.
Anyway, Mother decided to give me yet another tube of the noxious stuff. I wrinkle my upper lip, to show her my distaste for the procedure, but otherwise remain immobile. Evil task finished, she then decided to work on my feet. One hind hoof completed. The donkey left the area. The canvas flapped. Second back hoof complete.
I stood well, but inside, I was stewing.
Finally, I erupted. Mother felt me shake, looked forward, and saw this
Oh, the humiliation again. The salivia-y slime of it all. It was not the entire contents of the tube Mother gave me, but it was a fair amount. Mother sighed. She went to get me Herballs. NOT eating them. She insisted. NOT EATING THEM. She stuck one in the side of my mouth. I spit it out.
Mother went to the feed room, and brought out lots of deworming tubes. It was like a nightmare. She stuck one tube in my mouth, with just a little paste. Squirt. Then another. Squirt. A third. Squirt. OH, COME ON!
Did I object? No.
Did I squirm, fuss, raise my head? No.
Was I pleased? NO.
Mother says there is one more night of this. WHY? WHY?