Four and the Floor

Due to work, Cappy was going to trailer over the night before to Crazy But Lotta Fun Farm, and I would get to my lesson as soon as my little car could drive me after my shift on Saturday. The owner said I'd be able to have him stay, no problem, but when we arrived, I was told he would have to stay in the field over night, as there were no free stalls. Oh, and it might storm, so she didn't want hers out in it.

Uh, OK.

I knew Cappy was OK with being out by himself, and he knew the field, which had a long, steep hill, several gullies, a wooded area... plenty of places for him to get out of the weather. It was not ideal, but it sucks having to work for a living.

And not having a truck and trailer of one's own.

 ***

I arrived at Crazy But Lotta Fun Farm the following early afternoon, and go out to find Cappy alone in the field. Eating hay and stomping unremittingly at the flies roused by the heat after the storm. Hay that was put on the large rocks that rose out of the ground, courtesy of the last glacier. They were relatively flat, rough-topped boulders. That he had been stomping on.

For hours.

Yep, stone bruises in ALL FOUR FEET.

I hauled his sorry feet home, to the land of smooth soft pastures, and had the vet out. She examined him and I was advised to soak his feet for a while and if he stayed sore we may have to cut out any abscesses/bruising.

He stood relatively patiently as I soaked his front feet in the epsom salt and water filled feed tubs for twenty minutes. He stood reasonably well when I then stuck his hind feet in the same set up for another twenty.

I put him in his stall, then remembered I intended to deworm him, too, so left his halter on and went to grab the tube. I caught him, placed the dewormer in his mouth , and found myself pulled up off my feet as he reared up.

He had never been difficult to deworm, but his patience was exhausted.

I hear you, buddy. But too bad.

I finished the dewormer, gave him a pat, and left him to stew in his un-merry juices.