It’s A Little Bit of Everything…



On Thursday, the weather is gorgeous, but Huey’s high maintenance schedule combines with my ramped up work schedule to create a situation where I just could not get my riding lesson in.  It gets postponed until Friday.

On Friday, it rains in a Biblical Way.  No riding lesson, but two trips to the barn, including one trip from the chiropractor with a cold laser, and a total of 60 cases to grade.

On Saturday, it rains in a drizzly depressing way.  No riding lesson because there local horse show series is having it’s final bang.  Two trips to the barn.

On Sunday, it spits occasionally.  Two trips to the barn.  No riding lesson because it’s Sunday and everyone is wiped from the horse show.  Wouldn’t be riding anyway, even if Huey was off the DL, because the ring is soggy beyond belief.

On Monday, it rains.  Two trips to the barn, a trip from the chiro with the cold laser, no riding lesson because it’s not scheduled until Thursday.  One walk with the horse, at the end of which he crushes my foot and makes my toes black.  And a meeting with my department head, and a departmental faculty meeting squidged in there.

On Tuesday, it rains.  Only one trip to the barn because I have to leave for work at 3 and won’t get home until 9.  Lot of limping, and even blacker toes from the Foot Of Doom.  Walkies occur in the ring because I am limping too much to go on the road.

On Wednesday, it rains.  And the barn stalls are getting power washed, which soaks the boots that I’m wrapping Huey’s legs in at night, but I don’t realized that until I come back out in the evening to do up his legs and find the boots saturated with Grade A Ook.  One trip from the chiro with the cold laser, and a meeting with the dean and a college-wide faculty meeting squidged in there.  Two trips to the barn.

On Thursday, it rains.  I laundered the boots last night but I was too brain dead yesterday to remember to take them out of the washing machine to dry.  Can’t go in the dryer, of course.  One trip to the barn, without the boots.  One trip from the equine massage therapist to work the kinks out of the parts of Huey that are getting tight and painful because he’s not been allowed to run around for a month.

I discovered, while grooming him in preparation for the arrival of the massage therapist, that he was covered in hives.  Two of which were really big.  I called the vet while the massage therapist was working on Huey, and found out that I need to give him Benadryl.  So a trip for benadryl, a trip home to pulverize the pills, and another trip back to the barn to give him the first round of the stuff.  And he’s got the runs, probably from whatever gave him the hives.  I have to call the vet again tomorrow if the benadryl doesn’t clear up the hives.  I’ve already got two trips to the barn because the chiro is coming again with the cold laser, and the usual stuff.  Oh, yeah, and I’ve got to be down in Springfield working this afternoon and tonight.

Good golly.

And senselessly, I just keep thinking “Crikey, I wish this damned rain would stop and the clouds would move off.”  I think the rest of it would be easier to surf if I could just see the bloody sky.

So today, this one is going out to Huey, and Roy, and Buster Kitty, and everyone I work with.  But especially, it’s going out to Huey.



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.

2 responses »

  1. New hay, I think. Either that, or bug bites. Which it could be, because a solid week of rain has been bringing the bugs out in swarms. One of the “big” hives looks like it might be a hematoma, from him biting some itch bit, or kicking himself. Argh.

    When I left today, he was in Hog Heaven. Bombed on Benadryl, with a new Super-Sized Licky Thing to obsess over. And a massage.

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