Tuesday, March 02, 2010, 06:41
Back Scratcher
Sunday evening, the sun had just set by the time Randy and I went out to feed the horses. I had been at the Farm Toy show in town all day as a vendor with my books, and Randy had just come home from the annual ice fishing weekend with his dad and brother and their friends.
Isabelle had left a few deposits in her shelter, so I got the manure picker (a sort of plastic manure fork) and went to work.
I had just pitched some manure over the gate onto the pile outside Isabelle's pasture when she finished her grain. Two seconds later, as I turned around, I saw Isabelle backing toward me purposefully. I knew that meant only one thing. . .
Isabelle wanted her back scratched.
The plastic manure fork is not a particularly graceful curry comb, but it's effective.
As I scratched Isabelle's back and neck and withers and rump, she hardly moved a muscle. Until I tried to walk around her.
It's amazing how agile a big animal like a horse can be. As I moved around to get past her, she moved, too, all the while keeping her rump pointed in my direction.
If I didn't know Isabelle so well, it would be quite disconcerting to have a horse turn her rear end in my direction. She has done this, however, from the day she arrived at Rural Route 2 and has never wanted anything more than to have her tail or her rump or her back scratched.
When I tried to walk around her, Isabelle wanted me to know that in no uncertain terms, she did not think I had finished the job of scratching her. Isn't it fascinating how well animals can communicate with humans without uttering a single word?
So I continued to scratch her all over with the plastic manure fork. Even though it was almost dark, I could still see the loose hair that I had stirred up by scratching her. Finally Isabelle was satisfied.
My little black mare heaved a deep, contented sigh and then walked over to her pile of hay and started eating.
I am simply going to have hunt up my curry comb. I've got quite a lot of work ahead of me.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Tuesday, February 23, 2010, 04:27
Hairy Jobs
I can hardly believe it. I have seen one firm sign of spring.
Well, actually, it's a couple of firm signs. And even though I could hardly believe my eyes, it was really true.
Isabelle has loose hair. My little black mare with the with the big white blaze and white nose has loose hair on her back. Just a few loose hairs. But they are unmistakably loose hairs.
And that means only one thing. Those few loose hairs will soon be followed by more loose hairs. A whole lot more loose hairs. Enough loose hairs so that by the time I am done brushing, I will think that maybe I have enough to knit another horse. My old Morgan-Arab cross, Kajun, has some loose hairs, too, of course.
So, in a few week's time, I will be ankle deep in brushing hair off the horses.
Another sign of spring is that my little Shetland Sheepdog, Pixie, is shedding. For some reason, she begins to shed out earlier than the other Shelties I've had. Usually the other Shelties were dropping clumps of hair closer to April, but Pixie starts shedding in the middle of winter while it's still cold outside. I have no idea why, except I have always wondered if it had something to do with the fact that she was born in December.
At any rate, Friday evening I got out my doggie brushes and started brushing. Pixie does not particularly enjoy being brushed, and I think it's because the brushes tug and pull on her long hair. She's good about it, though. Unless she escapes and heads for another part of the house and then pretends that she cannot hear me calling her. . .
By the time I'd had enough of brushing the dog -- and by the time the dog had enough of me brushing the dog -- there was a big pile of dog hair on the floor and I was covered with dog hair and had to brush myself off with the lint brush -- my new handy-dandy Fuller Brush two-direction clothes brush. I love those things. I recently decided that it might not hurt to replace the one my mother bought years ago -- and she died in 1985. So that tells you how old Fuller Brush lint brush was. It still works. It's just that the two-direction handle broke off it about 5 years ago, or so.
I find the Fuller Brush clothes brush to be just a wonderful gadget. I use it to brush kitty hair off the bed and the couch and the quilts and my clothes. It seems to me that kitties shed at about the same rate all year long, so it doesn't really matter so much if I brush them or not. The younger cats I have now don't really enjoy being brushed anyway, so it's a matter of picking up the hair after-the-fact.
It's kind of a funny thing that loose hair is a sign of spring. But it is. A glorious, messy, long-awaited sign of spring.
Someday soon I will be picking horse hair out of my teeth while I am brushing the horses on windy days. And you know what? I won't mind a bit. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph