Bladed

Shedding season is once again upon us. Mother pulled me into the barn and attacked me with the shedding blade. I say attacked, because I've never really experienced the shedding blade before, and I am not entirely sure that I like it.

Mother has always been a little anti-shedding blade, because she believes it dulls the coat. She decided, however, that since I am grey I don't really shine anyway. So this year she determined to take the easy way out.

She raked the curved metal along my flesh, and I was displeased.

Mother, please be civilized and go get the curry comb.

Hair-Brained Scheme

As often, Mother has a hare-brained idea. She has contemplated before taking me to shows where I am only shown in hand.

Really, Mother? You want me to prance around at the end of a rope why? What good could come of that?

It's not like we need to show off to the world.

If they want to see me, they could just come to my blog.

Making the Turn

Mother was up and brushing me the other day. Even though the weather is still wintry, she noted I am starting to loose hair.

Half the fun for Mother of my greyness is that she never knows exactly what I will look like once I am done shedding. My mane, tail, and sort of my legs have been hanging on to their darkness, but the rest of me is varying stages of fleabitten and vaguely dappled.

It's good to keep her guessing... and apparently you, as well, as the last picture she's taken of me is from early October:

How am I supposed to be a super-model if my photographer never has a camera?

Random Assortment

Happy 2015!

In ways that I can't fathom, you humans say it is 2015. I just know it's the beginning of winter. I am looking forward to the snow, but looking forward to the grass of summer even more.

Mother is even MORE of an absentee owner during the winter, what with the shorter days and less than pleasant weather. But my Aunties are reliable with the food stuffs, and I have my Belle and donkeys, so if I have to wait a few days longer than I would like for the cookie lady to show up, ah, well.

Here's hoping for a Happy New Year!!

The Root of All Evil

Uncle Jeff, my dentist, came up earlier this week. He worked on all of us... well, Fat Donkey only got checked, but the rest of us slid into a warm, Happy-Place stupor.

It was amusing. Aunt Nancy brought over her Big Horse, so at one point all 8 of us plus Big Horse were in the barn.

What with hay stalls and such, there are only three working stalls. Picture, if you will, Callie and Bert in one stall (which they voluntarily do all the time), Big Horse with a stall to himself (The Luxury!) and Belle and I standing drunkenly together in the aisle. The drunk donkeys were piled in the working dentistry stall, with cute little rugs on to keep them from getting chilled.

Chilled donkey. Ridiculous.

My teeth were in great shape, and one of my donkeys was perfect, but one other donk was packing her cheeks with hay and so had lots of tarter. The other young one had a few caps that needed removed. And Belle had to have a scraggle tooth extracted.

Hey, I don't judge... but it was a little hillbilly-ish. Incisors are supposed to go up and down.

So now, Aunt Carol and sometimes Mother flush out the root hole with warm salt water and get out all the nasty gunk Belle shoves up in there. Belle whines about it, but I point out to her that I had to have those sort of machinations on my face for MONTHS. She can suck it up for a week or so.

Mother says it is time for some dewormer, too. Between perfect teeth and no worms, she better stop complaining that I am getting fat. With the best weight lose methods not available, what's a horse to do?

Four for Six

Mother's not doing very well in the cat caretaker department. She was feeding us this weekend while the Aunties were away, and unfortunately Rosie, the short haired barn kitty, was found unresponsive and had to be let go. Rosie was well upwards of sixteen... eighteen... ??

Scooter and Callie, being older, were needless to say looking nervous. Mother's not having a very good track record this week.

Mother had to wish one of her kitties goodbye today, the one most like a tiger...

Good-Bye, Gru