100 Things That Make Me Happy: Part 6

I'm doing a series of posts of things that make me happy. To see other posts in this series please click here. And without further ado, and in no particular order I continue!

#26. Getting some quality horse time in. I know I've already mentioned horses in this series, but I mentioned them in general. And it's my blog, and I can do whatever I want. So there. *ahem* Moving on. Last week I spent about two hours grooming my grandparents horses, one of them being mine. They weren't looking overly wonderful - shedding their winter coats, mud-caked, foxtails, and their manes in dreadlocks. Okay, it was just mine that had the real dreadlocks. I used all the tools I could find, and spent wonderful quality time with the three mares. It was a beautiful spring morning, and the only issue I had was that the wind seemed hell-bent on me eating the horse hair being shed. And of course, I snapped a few pictures.....

Moonbeam

Cloud

 O'My (she's all mine!)

#27. Windows-being-open-weather. You know the perfect weather I'm referring to. The kind of weather that's not too warm, nor too cold. You can have your windows open all day, and your house can be aired out after a winter of being cooped up. Maybe a slight breeze to help move the air around.

#28. Being complimented on your coffee making skills when you don't drink coffee. I can't stand coffee in any form. Walking into a Starbucks is an assault on my nose. However, one of our vets pretty much needs coffee on an IV drip. When he comes over to the Sticksville clinic for the day, or even when work with him on his Saturday, he likes coffee available. So if I know he's coming to the satellite clinic, I make at least a half a pot for him, and when I tell him he gets all happy (weirdo). And anymore, if it's a Saturday, he'll come up and ask, "Would you please make some coffee? You make good coffee." I always look at him like he's insane, because he is for thinking such things. I know I probably make it on the strong side, but I think that's what keeps him functioning.

#29. Texting my mom. We text on a daily basis, and sometimes I end up laughing my ass off so hard, I'd fall down if I wasn't already sitting somewhere. Can definitely brighten a day.

#30. Cuddling with Miss Harriet. There's nothing like being curled up on the couch on a cool day, watching a movie or reading a book, with a purring kitty curled up on my lap. Or stretched out by my side, purring away, and her whiskers tickling me.

Donkey Basketball

I kid you not, folks. I. Kid. You. Not. This truly exists.

Last Friday I was sitting on the couch playing some horrifically stupid yet addicting Facebook game around 4:30 p.m., when I got a text from our new vet, Dr. A saying, "are you going to donkey basketball at the school tonight? we are coming over and then having dinner if you're interested."

I kind of just stared at my phone for a minute. Donkey Basketball?! WTF? Are the donkey's playing basketball? Are people playing basketball on donkey's? Is it real donkey's??

So I sent a text back saying, "donkey basketball?! never heard of it!"

She replied with, "ffa fundraiser at 6:30."

Of course I replied with "see you there." I mean, who would not go and witness a possible total absurdity. It's not like you'd see something like this in the big city.

I drove to the high school (whose initials are SV which totally works for my made up town of Sticksville!) at 6:30 which is just a few blocks from my house and drove by it to find parking and saw a line out the gym door. There wasn't a place to park for three blocks in some cases. I found one about a block away. I paid my $9 to get in and found Dr. A and her friend L. A couple other gals from work were also there, E and C. Oh, and for those of you who are unaware, FFA stands for Future Farmers of America; it starts in high school and there's also a collegiate form as well, promoting ag education and all that jazz.

The gym was full. They had to set up folding chairs on the small stage for people because the bleachers were full. And there were still people standing. Evidently, this is quite the popular event, but I don't think it's necessarily advertised very well. I guess this happens every year, a basketball game between girls/boys varsity and the faculty and it's an FFA fundraiser.

The basic rules were thus: One person from each team was in the center circle - they had to keep at least one foot in it at all times. A player could get off the donkey to get the ball, but had to take their donkey with them (which is much harder than one thinks, trust me). To shoot the ball the player had to mounted on their donkey.

And then it happened. A side door opened and in trotted donkey's with high school kids and faculty. And thus the laughter began. And continued until the game was over. I laughed so hard I cried.

 

Oh and you bet your blogging asses I took video. Even though my phone battery was dying, I totally took video. Unfortunately, you'll hear me and L laughing our butts off (okay, so it's probably mostly me). And don't worry, the donkey's had rubber cushions attached to their hooves so they couldn't slip on the gym floor. This first one is mostly the warm-up lap.

Now, this second video will feature a, um, "cheerleader". In fact, in the first half of the game, he was part of the pooper-scooper team (one carried a shovel, and the other carried a broom to sweep the gym apples and they wore ponchos and sombreros. I'm so not kidding. The second half was a bit wilder than the first . . . in the sense that the antics from the folks in the center circle, as the pushing got a bit rougher, and then cheerleader guy started trying to mess with the faculty guy in the center, so that the students would win the game.

In the end, the students one, 24-22.

After laughing so hard my stomach and my face hurt and my face was also streaked from the tears of laughter, four of us went to dinner - myself, Dr. A, E and L. Where we laughed even more. I'm so proud of myself for having two social engagements last week. They are pretty much the only two I've had since I moved up here that were technically not work (i.e. cattle vet office) related. I had so much fun!

And I'm sooooo going again next year!

 

You wanna spay what?

Dogs? Yes. Cats? Of course! A horse? ..........

Wait - what?

The good doctor and I took what I believe to be an "odd" phone call this afternoon. A gal called inquiring about fixing a horse. And not just "fixing" it as in fixing a problem or a wound, she meant fixing as in spaying the horse.

Now, for those that may have been living under a rock for the past half century or so, it is highly suggest that you spay or neuter your pets. Um, pets as in dogs and cats. And for the those that are still in the dark, "spaying" is where the lady bits get taken out so she can't get pregnant, and "neuter" is where boys get cut so they can't impregnate half the neighborhood pets.

Oddly enough, "neuter" is the term for dogs/cats; "gelding" is the term for horses; "castrating" works for every single thing.

Anyway, back to the horse. A gal asked if the clinic could spay a horse. I was a little taken by surprise as I've never heard of anyone actually spaying their horse. I mean, yes, it can be done. Apparently the good doctor informed me that he's done the procedure before. I handed the phone to him and let him answer the lady's questions because I was obviously not qualified as I would have told her just the geld the boys. Far less invasive and much more cost effective.

I about coughed up a lung when I found out that it would cost a minimum of $600 to spay a horse. It costs about $90 for a dog spay, and that's a lot.

Apparently, the way they spay a horse isn't exactly like a dog or a cat. Dogs/cats get cut along the abdomen, just below their belly buttons. For a horse, they lay it on one side, and make an incision on the flank, and take out an ovary. Then they have to flip said horse over onto it's other side, make another incision on the other flank and take out the other ovary.

The "flank" area is the number 3, just in front of the hip.

 
Not every large animal clinic has the same set up for equine surgery. One clinic I worked for had a special padded room dubbed the "fall room" which was where we anesthetized horses and guided them as to the floor as they got sleepy. In essence, we were helping them fall to the ground so they didn't hurt themselves. Then their feet would be bound and they would be lifted on a hydraulic system and pushed to the padded surgery table. After surgery, the horse would be lifted again on they hydraulics and pushed back into the fall room to wake up.
 
The clinic I work for doesn't have that kind of set up, although I'm sure they'd be like kids in a candy store if they could get their hands on one!
 
The easiest and most economical way to prevent a mare (female horse) from getting pregnant is to keep her away from a stallion. Or house her with other mares or  geldings. No problems there. The least economical way is to spay the 1200 pound mare.
 
Although, there is another idea, and it's probably more economical than spaying a horse. That is to stick a sterile marble where the sun doesn't shine. I've heard of this being used on sport/show horses where owners/riders don't want the attitude a mare can get when she comes into heat. Yes, even mares get a little nasty. It's not just humans. Anyway, the idea behind the marble is that if there is this thing bouncing around her uterus, it fools her body into thinking she's pregnant. Therefore, she won't come into heat. Therefore she can't be bred because she won't ovulate.
 
So, before you go getting any bright ideas about spending a small fortune on spaying a 1200 pound horse, you might consider more economical ideas. Like keeping it alone. Working on the boys. Or sticking a marble up it's hoo-ha.
 

April Blogging Challenge: H is for Horses

Source

I can't pinpoint the moment that I became obsessed fell in love with horses. It might have been when someone pointed to a picture of a horse when I was a toddler. I'm not sure my parents could even tell you. But I was one of those madly in love with horses kind of kid. And I couldn't have one for the longest time. For some reason, the city frowns on you keeping one in your backyard. Not sure why . . .

I used to ask Santa every year for a horse and each year I was denied. I usually got everything else I asked for, but thankfully for my parents, Santa realized that horses cost a lot of money and when I was little, we didn't have that kind of money. Or space.

I was the girl who always had a horse book in my hands. I read the Black Stallion books by Walter Farley dozens of times. If it wasn't about horses, I didn't read it. At least, not until I was about 12. I was a sponge when it came to learning about them.

When I was 13, my parents decided to move out of Redding and find a place that had a few acres for some elbow room. The house they chose has a corral with a two stall barn and attached tack/hay room. From the minute we drove in I knew it was home and that somehow I'd finally get that horse I'd always wanted.

My grandparents had gifted me riding lessons when I was about 10 or 11. I don't think you could have found a happier kid at the time. I was on cloud 9. Eventually it got too expensive and I had to stop going. After we moved to the three acres, my parents found another gal that taught horseback riding. When it, too, became expensive, my parents asked if I could work for my lessons by cleaning stalls and whatnot. Their idea was to work my ass off and make me realize I didn't want to deal with the mess and work that comes with horse. Boy did I prove them wrong. Whatever that woman threw at me, I did it. I mucked stalls - nasty stalls, with the smell of ammonia burning my nostrils. And still I wanted to ride and I wanted my own.

That instructor caught wind of a horse for sale, an Arabian mare named Kassie. She herself hated Arabs, instead preferring Morgans. However, this horse was her exception because she had helped the owner train it. I went for a test ride and fell in love. My parents bought her for me, and I owned her for 6 years. We even got a baby out of it, as we bred her a year later.

I eventually had to sell Kassie when I moved off for college. It broke my heart. The little one, O'My, was sent to live at Papa D's ranch. I get to see her now almost every morning. She's about 14 now. In fact, she just had a birthday yesterday.

Having my horses taught me hard work. Every weekend I was out cleaning the corral, creating a big manure pile in one corner. We'd give the pile away to friends who wanted fertilizer. My horses made some good shit. Rain or shine, I'd do my chores. I rode nearly every day in good weather. They were my responsibility. My parents pitched in only when needed, like when I was gone one summer for a school trip. I took a few falls, and got right back on, no matter how freaked out I was. My ego was always more bruised than my butt - which I always seemed to land on. Better than my head, I suppose.

My enthusiasm may have waned a little over the years, but I love horses just as much as I did as a kid. I just realize now that they cost a lot of money - to purchase, to feed, and buy supplies for. Hopefully when the weather gets better and the ground isn't so apt to break an ankle, I might get to ride one of Papa D's horses, Cloud. I know she hasn't been ridden in quite awhile, but she's in her late teens, and a good age for me to "get back in the saddle".

I love all animals, but there's just something about horses. I can't quite put my finger on it. They're beautiful, majestic, kind, and cuddly. I love their smell. I love the smell of a barn. I love the smell of a tack store. After the bites, the attempted kicks, the being stepped on, the falls, the attitudes - I still love them. There's not much that can top a horse hug. Or a horse kiss. Or a horse pillow.

Source

A Weekend of Good-byes

My weekend of good-byes is now over. Thank God, because I'm not sure I could really take more good-byes. I had a hard enough time keeping control my tear ducts as it was.

Friday was my last day with Homeward Bound and work. I got off work on Friday morning and went to Homeward Bound for my last morning of cleaning dog kennels and feeding said dogs. One of the volunteers had brought a carrot cake, some muffins, and donuts for us all to eat after our hard work. I am sorry to say good-bye to the organization, and Jody (who runs it). Not to mention some of the dogs that are lifers, and saw every week for years.  I managed to not cry, although while driving away for the last time it was very hard.

My last night at work was just like any other night at work. We had a potluck for me. A new hire started that night, as well. And my boss decided not to show up until 1:30am, and the new girl showed up at midnight. Since no management was there (I mean, none at all), it fell on me being the senior tech to sit her down and start her reading SOP's (standard operating procedures) for the bench she would start training on. I clocked out at 7am, for the last time, and took my badge to my boss. She took it, and said, "This makes it real. You do know that you will be missed, right?" Of course I knew that. She stood up to give me a hug, and then I went back through the lab for another 30 minutes or so of good-byes.

So many people that I will no longer see every day. Or night, rather. I left the building at 7:45, for the last time. I got in my car, and it hit me. All those people that I have seen for 40 hours every week (sometimes more), and I won't see them again. And if I do, it won't be for a long time. I will miss them all. Okay, most of them. I won't have to hear people hollering my name to come fix a machine. I won't have any more shouting matches with my boss. I won't get to obsess about Pride & Prejudice stuff with my equally obsessed co-worker. I won't be eating my lunch at 2:30am anymore.

I drove out to Saddle Pals a couple hours later that same morning. It was to be my last Saturday with them. The instructor had brought a small cake and some cupcakes for my good-bye. After my first lesson, I put Tex (favorite horse there) out to pasture for the day. I nearly lost it, saying good-bye to a horse. Slightly pathetic, yes. But if you knew this horse, you'd be sad to leave him, too. I managed to sneak a picture of us, before I left his pasture. After lessons, I took a picture with the two gals I see every week there. After saying all kinds of good-byes, I climbed in my car, and immediately had to pull out the tissues. I cried most of the way home.

With Dudley before a lesson.

Later I was texting my mom and I said that I hadn't really realized how many people I would be saying good-bye to. She replied with, "I knew!" You think she could have told me, right?

My BFF showed up a little after 3pm that day. We chit-chatted until it was time to go to my belated birthday/send off dinner. I was expecting about 8 people at least. And like every other time I have a birthday get together, most don't show. My BFF was there, as were my friends ST and HS and her boyfriend. We still had a wonderful time. After dinner, my BFF and I went to Rick's Dessert Diner in downtown Sac. I abhor downtown Sac and avoid it whenever possible. However, my BFF loved this place and wanted me to experience it before I left Sacramento. It was definitely worth the wait in line. I bought a piece of cheesecake and I think it's the best I've ever eaten. It was delicious.

We eventually hit the hay sometime around midnight, and I was exhausted, having been up for about 30 hours. We both slept in late on Sunday morning, and felt like slugs, so we stayed on the couch just talking. She finally left in the late afternoon.

When I said earlier that I didn't realize that I had so many people to say good-bye to, I was serious. I am kind of a homebody, although I do like to get out once in awhile. For lots of reasons, I don't have much a life in Sacramento. Partly because of my hours, partly because I'm a homebody, and partly because I'm shy. But once I had to start saying good-bye to people, I realized that I do know lots of people down here. Many I consider friends. And many I am sad to leave, not knowing when I may see them again.

And while I am sad to leave the people, I will not be sad to leave Sacramento. Or my job. While it was a good job, it was never what I really wanted to do. I never wanted to be a lab rat. And that's exactly what I became. I learned a lot by working there, things I never would have thought I would know. But I am glad to say that I am no longer an employee. In regards to to the city - I am not a city girl. While I like some things a city can offer, and I enjoy visiting sometimes, I do not enjoy living in it.

My BFF and I had this very conversation. I asked her yesterday, "Does it ever amaze you sometimes how we are best friends? We are polar opposites in so many ways!" She laughed and agreed. She is a city girl through and through, while I am a country girl, amongst other things.

On Saturday, I will be moving into my new place in Sticksville, USA. I am excited to begin my new life there. I am still nervous and scared. But everyone I know, in real life and in the blogoshpere, has been so supportive and wonderful, that I know I have made the right choice. 

And the best part about this last weekend? I actually slept laying down for the first time in two weeks. That means my horrendous cough is improving! I awoke on my side, all curled up, which I haven't been able to do since this cough started. Oh thank God for the little things.

With Tex, my main man.

MLW: The Birth of O'My

 

 Fourteen years ago (wow, that sound like a really long time), my horse was born. One morning I went from having one horse, to having two. I just wish I could have witnessed it. Unfortunately, I was either working on a Spanish project, or sleeping. Probably a bit of both.

On the night of April 7th (or the wee hours of April 8th), I was up late working on a Spanish project that was - of course - due the next morning, first period. Around 3am, when I finally finished, I thought about going out to checking on my horse, since she was due to give birth sometime soon. Being so tired, I decided against it, just knowing she would wait until Prom night to shoot the little bugger out.

Tiny bit of back history here. My parents bought me my first horse, Kassie, when I was 14. She was a beautiful Arabian mare. Sweet and stubborn. My sophomore year, my parents agreed to breed her to a friend's stud cold, Opie, a beautiful Paint horse. A horse's gestation is roughly 11 months. I was so scared and excited to have a new four-legged addition to the family.

One evening, while out feeding - my mare was bout 9 months pregnant and had that constant look on her face that said, "I'm over this shit." While she was eating, I loved on her and put my ear to her huge belly, hoping that just maybe, I might hear something, even if I didn't have a stethoscope. What I nearly got was a hoof in the face, through that very belly. Her belly suddenly jerked as baby kicked. I jumped back and watched as baby went about rolling around in a sudden fit of joy in mommy's belly. I got my parents to come out and look and all we could say was, "Oh my. Oh no. Oh dear."

So, back to the special night in April. I had decided to go to bed, seeing as how I had to be up in just a couple hours anyway. Of course, I woke up late. My dad offered to go feed the horse and our two goats, Willie and Chillie (twins) while I finished getting ready. About a minute later, he comes running back in the house shouting, "WE GOT A BABY! OH MY GOD, WE GOT A BABY!" We raced out there, me with half a face and tugging on my tennis shoes as I ran out. Sure enough, there was a little bundle of joy lying in the stall with Kassie standing over her.

I finally got the courage to go inside the stall. Kassie was a bit protective at first, and tried to bite me when I got close. But a little sweet talking got me in. The little one was already dry, and smelled so sweet. I still remember that smell. Like sweet milk. We watched as she got up (shakily), and went in search of milk.

My parents agreed that I could stay home from school, as I had to stay and wait for the vet to come out at some point to check both mom and baby out. Not to mention they had no idea what to tell the vet. Plus I don't think they wanted the job of lifting the placenta into a bucket for inspection by the vet. In case you never wanted to know, an equine placenta is quite heavy.

I called a friend of mine, S, as we had first period Spanish together in the morning. I told her what happened, and to please relay to Mrs. D that I was not playing hooky (since my project was due), but that I had a valid reason and I would be back the following day. She happily agreed.

The vet popped by later in the afternoon to check on both mommy and baby, and to make sure the entire placenta and afterbirth had been passed. He happily proclaimed them both to be in excellent health.

It took us about a week to think of a name for her. Her registered name came out to be Kassie's Komet Kaper. The comet part showed up because it was the year of the Comet Hale Bop. But, we affectionately call her O'My. Considering how many time we said the words, "oh my" in regards to coming, it seemed fitting.

Of course, tons of pictures were taken of this bundle of joy. Most of them bad. But, here's my favorite from when she was a newborn. 

 

And she has now grown into this:

She turned out rather smallish. But she's sweet and adorable. And starting in just a couple weeks, I will get to see her beautiful mug every single day. That makes me very happy, indeed.