Saturday, May 20, 2006, 04:00
What a Day. . .
My dentist appointment, which was originally scheduled for 12:15 Friday, was moved up to 10 a.m.
Well, actually, what happened is that they had a couple of cancellations for the dental hygienist and wanted to know if I would fill one of the slots. I figured I might as well have my teeth cleaned while I was at it.
When the hygienist was finished, I had an hour to kill until the appointment with the dentist. I ran a few errands. Then I went home and gave my kitty cat her dose of thyroid medicine.
Went back to town and got to the dentist's office right at 12:15.
I did not get in to see the dentist until 1 p.m.
While I was waiting in the dentist's office, a lady came in and said, "Are you LeAnn?"
Turns out that it was Rural Route 2 subscriber Jessie from Canada! They got to my hometown sooner than they expected. Jessie and her husband took a short tour of town (not much to see, really, it's a small town!) -- and then waited in their motor home for me to get done at the dentist. I finally got out of there at 2 p.m.
We had a wonderful visit. Ate lunch at the cafe in town. And talked and talked and talked. It was so much fun!
Unfortunately, since I figured I would be going home again, my digital camera was sitting on the kitchen table. So I did not get pictures. Jessie and her husband took pictures with their camera, though (film) -- and she said she would send me some prints.
When I got home again after 4 p.m., my husband had left three messages on the answering machine. And with each message, he sounded more worried and distressed. He was afraid something had gone terribly awry at the dentist's office. Some years back, I had a bad reaction to lidocaine, and I think this was the source of his distress. Of course I called him back right away to let him know that I was all right.
When Randy got home at 5 p.m. -- we decided it was the perfect evening to put up my new awning for the craft sales. The sun was shining (in other words, no rain). And the wind was relatively calm.
The awning, as it turns out, is very easy to put up -- if there are two people working at it. (I wonder if he will mind coming to craft shows with me this summer?)
We got the thing set up in the backyard, then we had to haul out the table, set it up with books and the tablecloth and whatnot and take pictures of it -- because the selection committee for the Cheese Curd Festival wants pictures of the "canopied display."
The awning comes down as easily as it goes up. So that's a good thing.
Now that I think about it, Saturday is going to be quite a day, too. I have two graduation parties to attend. And then I have to drive 50 miles one way to interview the farm family that will be hosting this year's dairy breakfast in our county to celebrate June Dairy Month. Then I will have to write the story for the newspaper. Don't have to get the story in until Friday, though. But I'd better write it up before then. In case something else comes up. Which is usually the case when I think I'll have plenty of time to do something. Then the next thing I know, I'm out of time. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
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Thursday, May 18, 2006, 20:45
Another Notch!
"Isabelle," I said. "I think your head is getting bigger!"
For the past week, seeing as it was so cold and windy and rainy and sleeting, and since Isabelle wanted to do nothing more than stand in her shelter to get out of the wind and the rain, I have not been putting the bridle on her. (I did not feel like standing out in the wind and rain, either!)
So this morning when I put the bridle on -- which is a fight in itself because Isabelle doesn't like it -- it did not dawn on me right away that the bridle didn't fit quite the way it used to.
I don't know how many times I will have to put the bridle on Isabelle before she gets used it. Fifty times? A hundred? A thousand? She simply does not like it, and that's all there is to it. A lot of it has to do with the fact that I think -- before she was taken to the sale barn last summer -- someone twitched her in order to clip her bridle path up around her ears.
"Twitching" a horse -- for those who don't know -- involves twisting the upper lip into a metal or rope device and tightening it up so the horse can't move. If the horse does move, it creates excruciating pain in the lip. (Imagine someone putting your lip in a vice-grip and twisting.)
The reason I think someone twitched Isabelle is that she is terribly sensitive about her nose. She does not want anyone to touch her nose or rub her lips. I do it anyway, just to show her that I am not going to hurt her. She doesn't especially like it, but I think she accepts the fact now that I am not going to hurt her nose.
Using a twitch, in my estimation, should be a last resort -- such as when the horse needs to have something done that's a matter of life and death for the horse and which could be dangerous for the person holding the horse. Clipping her mane along the top of her neck does not qualify as a life and death matter, in my opinion.
Anyway, when I finally got the bridle on Isabelle and was standing there brushing her (she loves being combed and brushed, so I am thinking that brushing her and combing her makes a good 'positive reward' for standing there with the bridle on) -- it dawned on me that the bit was pulling her lips up just a bit far.
We are using a very simple jointed snaffle bit on Isabelle which puts hardly any pressure on her mouth at all. The 'rule of thumb' is that when a horse has a bit in its mouth, the bit should be just tight enough so there are two wrinkles at the corner of the mouth. Isabelle had more like three or four wrinkles.
Isabelle chews and chews and chews at the bit, so I waited until she stopped chewing for a little while so I could let the top of the bridle out one notch.
When I finally got the bridle let out, the bit fit in her mouth much better. Letting the bridle out a notch gave her an extra half an inch on each side of her mouth.
"There now," I said. "Isn't that better Isabelle?"
Isabelle didn't answer, but instead, went back to chewing at the bit. She reminds me of my old quarter horse, Red, who died eight years ago when he was 32.
I bought Red when he was 18. Randy didn't start riding the horse until Red was over 20 years old. When Randy started riding him, I noticed that Red chewed on the bit a lot. He probably did that when I rode him, too, except when you are on a horse's back, it is harder to tell what he is doing with his mouth. Once Randy started riding him, I could see that Red chewed on the bit.
At over 20 years old, Red ought to have been used to a bit by then!
Eventually, we bought a hackamore (a bridle without a bit that works by putting pressure on the nose), and Red liked it just fine.
I don't know what Isabelle would think of a hackamore, seeing as she is so sensitive about her nose already. We shall just have to wait and see what happens. It is much too early to tell yet whether she will get used to the bit.
All I know is that -- Isabelle is growing! Enough so that I had to let the bridle out a notch.
Which reminds me of something that I would do well not to forget: let the buyer beware. We were told Isabelle was 4 years old when we bought her. But that is impossible. Four-year-old horses do not grow as much as she has grown in the last nine months.
LeAnn R. Ralph
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