Footloose and fancy free
Today was a day for pedicures … of the equine variety. It’s a toss up between who has the best footwear because everybody’s — human, equine, bovine and canine — are caked with mud. A few days ago temperatures plunged to the teens and winter appeared to have finally arrived. We had snow — a whopping three inches.
It lasted approximately four days.
That’s all that’s left on the hillsides around here. Mainly because it’s windy and rainy and 52 degrees. In January for heaven sakes!
Things mostly look like this …
It ain’t pretty, neither.
And I can’t explain why I’ve resorted to talking in such a way, either.
What I mean is: there is mud everywhere. There is mud on everything. Mud makes me feel like crud. And I scrub and scour and clean until I draw blood.
But anyway …
We did a little of this today.
And a little of that. A whole lot of that, actually: grooming two fuzzy, furry, heavy-coated beasts that closely resemble horses. We curried and brushed and combed and picked. We removed an atrocious amount of cockleburs from forelocks and manes and tails.
Some of us. Not all of us.
One of us was in rare form. It’s the five year-old whining stage and I. can’t. take. it. So I bribed him to be quiet. Fail. On a positive note, though, he makes an excellent virtual race car driver. And he unlocked two new tracks while sitting in the hay.
Today was hoof trimming day. He came … he trimmed … he talked … he left. And then these two cantankerous crabs showed us all exactly what they thought of their day at the spa …
Butters! The troublemaker … the witchy woman … the leader of this danged duo.
And not to be outdone by bossy the hossy, the senior citizen of the pair joined in the fun. Thanks, Cara … you naughty old broad.