General Specifics

I am generally a literal generalist, making broad sweeping statements. Please remember this happens with just about everything I type. I call it gestalting.
A generalization Is, for goodness sakes! They are NEVER entirely true, for anything. That's called specificity.
I nominated myself to General, just yesterday:)
Not literally, though. Hah.


On to more interesting animal thoughts.
Well, to Me, anyway. Pooor Flip, she's a tummy dog, and she's determined to be the best darn tummy dog she can be. Here's the latest symptoms, for your veterinary interest. Or not.

Y'all should be proud of me, my BFF buddy, the veterinarian on constant call for me, wasn't even shown a stool sample of my Flip, when she came to visit last week. How polite am I?? I hadn't seen her in almost two years, so, I graciously avoided any Flip tummy talk. But you guys get to hear it all, lucky You!
Or not.

Our latest excursion to the vet entailed a fasting x-ray, and again, as usual, my wonderful vets raised their eyebrows and exclaimed over Flip's one normal sized kidney, and one teensy-bitsy kidney. Flip is, of course, unusual.

I get that a lot, with my animals. Vet sez: Oh, I've never seen this before! And the eyebrows would go up.

I should charge admission to my vet appointments, really:) My tragic horse, my chestnut TB with two old bows, was euthed for purpura hemoragic.. something. I forget now, I blocked it out. This was thirty-four years ago. Same expression from the vet. OH, I've never seen this! Yeah, fine. You are very welcome.
Or not:)

I did a paper on penicillin in university, using what I learned about purpura from my poor tragic chestnut. Oh, man, handsome horse. I have to keep him buried though. He was the start of my cycle out of hell. I honestly don't even remember riding him. He was 16.2, bright solid copper, one star between his eyes, just a picture of correctness, with the bright eyes you look for. Tragically dulled by strangles, and the terrible sequel that can happen. (If you have no luck in horses, like >moi<.)

Enough of him, though. Too many memories I'd rather not rewind.

His loss forced me to accept my start of a life less horsed. I still taught, but I went back to school, and moved back home.
Thanks, Mom.

sniffle, sniffle. Hey, It's still f ebbb ruary, ya know. Sunshine hasn't been in abundance around here.

Oh, and in a fit of petulance, I hereby post my funny farmer tale.
Prairie Farmer didn't notice, I hope:)
I'm Kidding, I realized I've got some FF tales, might as well use 'em.

My husband got stuck one late, raw, frozen corn harvesting day. He'd managed to get his truck stuck, and came home in the tractor, in the foulest of tempers. I couldn't blame him, he never got stuck. The land had been cruel that year, frozen slush on top of rain on top of heavy snow/rain. The sequel was triple digit freezing wind-chills.

Fields were not fun to get to. His big heavy 4x4 F350 with the fuel truck in the back was well and soundly stuck, breaking through a massive "surprise!" pond between two fields. Anyway, home he comes in the tractor, so that I can help. Me, useless city girl, throwing her hands up at checking for oil. I'd driven exactly one tractor at this point in my life, poorly, at a stable I'd mucked at, for one summer. Vast experience in operating machinery, I do not have. I am a very good driver. Just make sure I have a road.

We're driving south, down "our" gravel country road. It's a few days before Christmas. It's about 20 below Celcius. As we rumble down the road in his medium big John Deere, me sitting on the wheel "bump", comfy/warm/listening to music, we see a man walking up the road, towards us.

He's wearing just a pair of cowboy boots, skin-tight jeans, and a fall season plaid jacket. Bare chest. Tall, skinny guy. He's tacking to and fro a bit. Heading north, with a bit of east west thrown in. Twelve sheets to four winds, he was. Skinny guy's just north of another of my husband's (leased) crop fields. He waves, and we stop.

Turns out, skinny guy'd driven his 88 Camaro into this field, waaaaaaay in the back, with his brightly dressed (shall we say kindly) girlfriend, to steal a tree. Recently deep-plowed field. Heavy clay. Car was so not happy. It was rather rutted. The guy had no suspension/exhaust pipe thingies left after husband came back to tow him out.

You see, once husband had realized what this guy was about, he'd decided to go and get his own truck pulled out first, and come back and tow the guy, after. First things first, ya know. So, we left the guy to wait in his warm car (& brightly clad girlfriend), until husband was done with his own stucked-ness.

This is my embarrassing part. Husband & tractor get the truck out of the pond he'd crunched through, with me driving the truck. I just steered, sort of, and clasped my hands firmly on the wheel, while husband gesticulated madly at me out the back window of his tractor cab.. Next, I was to drive the tractor out of the field, with him in the truck. ahem..

Logic being, the tractor wouldn't get stuck, even with me driving it. I was to meet him on the side of the road, just outside the field, facing north. My heart was racing madly as I crept, I mean CREPT, out of the field, this kind of horsepower wasn't something I'd ever craved, ya know?? Did I mention I've never driven a stick shift?
(I used to have nightmares about driving stick-shifts.)
No worries, and we make it to the road.

So, here I am, on the side of the road facing north, road slopes south. Husband pulls up behind me. I can't seem to get the tractor to stand still, it keeps rollllling back. Towards the truck. I keep telling it to go forward, and stop, but it will not stop. It goes back. I feel panic building. Mercifully, husband had parked far enough behind me. Smart guy. He leaped in and hit wherever the hell the brake was, just a few inches from the front bumper of his truck.

My nerves were justabit frazzled, husband laughed it off, and off we went.

I drove the truck home, and he went and towed out the tree thief. That tree cost the skinny guy all he had in his wallet. $20.00. Oh, and the bottom of his loooow car. He'll never know how lucky he was, nor how cheaply he got off.

Husband and I were lucky, too, of course. Trucks are expensive:)

Horsie blathering will return to this same bat time, bat channel.
Here's a picture of me teaching, in 1983. I'm making the kid laugh, and my next hour's student,too. No Idea what I'm saying, but I'm glad mostly everyone is smiling, especially RainyPony:)



Oh, now I remember! I was congratulating him on his ride over this fence..

Rainy had given him that flying feeling, and he'd grinned, reporting how way cool it was. Tim. Heck of a good rider, one of the ones I really hated "abandoning". He was a great kid, naturally smart with good instincts. He'd been hurried & scared at his previous barns, but with me, and my policies of no seat, no jump, Tim really became a sharp little rider. Wonder what ever happened to him.
I was forever "assuming positions" when I taught. See? Your body is ready to jump, from this position, no matter what happens!
sigh.

To great kids, and great Rainy Ponies..


Oh, and WOW, I watched the AHAA Scottsdale feed, as much as I could. It kept cutting out for the jumping:(
I want the buckskin that won the Gambler's. Truck him on down, will ya? Make a nice addition to my back-porch.

I just saw the Costume Class. First one I've seen in 40+ years. There were more horses in the class back then:)
Tack fail. Jeeesh.
Way, way cool to watch!