No, Really, He Wasn’t Exaggerating


Well, maybe about it being the loudest fight ever at the barn…but about the rest?  Check it out:


This is some other horse from a catalog, but it is the same blanket. Very stylish it is, too. Looked great on Huey.


The front of the jacket. Looks like the buckles held up! At the top you can see the fleecy neck pad, ripped right in half. I'm not even sure where the little shredded piece on the right belongs. I think some of the blanket must still be in the paddock.

The full monty. Note from the "Before" picture the lack of significant ventilation along the spine. The open flap on the right is the attachment point for one of the buckles - as with the front of the jacket, still attached.

It must have been one hell of a fight.  I’m really glad I didn’t have to watch it.  I’d have been quaking in my boots.  Huey managed to get out of it with only one bite mark on his face.  I’m not sure about Elvis.  They’ve both been taking a beating – nearly as bad as when Huey was turned out with Clay…Minor Injury Du Jour time.  Even now he’s got several stripes along his side where Clay nailed him and the hair is growing in a lighter color.  My beautiful boy is starting to look like a Prize Fighter.  It’s too bad that he went all nutty when Tango was in season – they actually got along very well (meaning: she kept him in his place with very little effort and he didn’t argue with her constantly).


About Lori Holder-Webb

I'm a Southern Woman by birth and a Texan Woman by upbringing...and yet I find myself living in New England and married to a New York City boy. Up here we use the same currency as we do at home, and I don't need to travel with a passport, but the commonalities pretty much end there. The language is different, the jokes are different, the people are different, and the weather and terrain sure are different too. I moved away from Texas in 2002, and ever since then, I've been the stranger in the strange land... I've had some questions about the name of the blog - if you were not alive, or living abroad or under a rock, or in grad school during the late 1980s, Oldsmobile attempted to shuck its stodgy image with a series of commercials intended to bring brand appeal to the younger generation: this car, they said, is not your father's Oldsmobile. If you have a morbid curiosity, hit YouTube for William Shatner will take you right there.

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