We Have a Grooming Truce…

Dear Jane,

True. I do hate baths. If your excessive grooming is bath avoidance, then I can live with it. Sort of.

Did you hear Bella today? She said I have dapples. DAPPLES. (Girls love dapples.)

And that pretty redhead Arab we rode with? She thought I was handsome.  Did you see the way she pinned her ears at me?  Yup, I’m looking goooood.When a mare is thinking about kicking you? She has the hots for you. She was SO thinking about kicking.

I. Am. The Man.

I don’t know who Ted Bundy is, but if you mean that nasty, evil, gelding in the next paddock, yeah he’s a piece of work. I know he’s lonely, but dude, don’t attack other horses. Doesn’t exactly make me want to be friends, you know?

Hey. You think you can get the redhead moved up here?  Move the slasher dude?

Honestly, I think you need to get help for the grooming OCD. I can live with it if I get dapples out of the deal.  Whatever. Especially if you torture-groom Dinero too.

I didn’t like that he got to go in the trailer today and I didn’t.

Putting me in the grass place was awesome.  (Dinero didn’t get to go out in the grass. We’re even. That cancels out not going in the trailer.)

I think grass helps with dapples.  Can I go into grassy place every day?

BTW, the “work” today sucked. Man you were terrible. Letting me run? That was awesome.  I needed it after your weird messages. You need to simple it down, K? Get a whiteboard or something.

To sum it up:

I’ll tolerate the excessive, picky, over the top grooming if you make dapples, and turn me out in the grassy place. And let me run after you drive me insane. Deal?

(nudge)

Hudson

Jane’s Letter to Hudson on Grooming

Dear Hudson,

Trust me.  I hear you loud and clear.  Daily.

Let me explain.

On the grooming: it gets you out of a much worse torture; the bath.

On the one hand: daily thorough grooming.  On the other hand: getting drenched with cold water, lathered up, scrubbed, rinsed, cream-rinsed, re-drenched, show-sheened, face washed, forced to stand around in  the sun until dry. Or worse: all the above, drenched with cold water, and having a cooler thrown over you to help you dry because it’s raining.

30 minutes a day is a small price to pay, don’t you think? Without the every-inch-thorough grooming, I wouldn’t have found that abscess. I also wouldn’t know the Ted Bundy of horses in the next paddock got his chompers on your butt, and gave you a sore lump the size of Texas.

It’s not like I pick off minute specks of dirt with a Q-tip. Hellooo?  Curry and brushes. Tail only when I can wash it. Mane, ditto. And don’t give me any crap about the towel. (Eye rolling.)

You dope, I don’t towel you for the grooming aspect.  I do it because you like it. Your lips get all wiggly, your eyes close, and you look like a little foal enjoying a grooming by his mother.

Do you realize you have not had a bath since September? I don’t care all that much about mud.  Hellooo…I’m the person who turns you out to roll. Daily grooming keeps the mud from drying out your skin. You might not have noticed, but I leave the dried mud on your legs when it’s soupy, to help prevent scratches.

Next time you are down at the barn, please note the show Arabs lined up at the wash rack: they are bathed daily in all weather, have their manes and tails wrapped 24/7, are clipped every other second, and are not allowed to roll.  Ever.  They might break a hair. They never go bootless or bell-less.  They do not gallop. They must lunge before every ride. They always have to be on. No ambling in the sunshine for them.  Their coats could get sunburned.

You are a lucky guy. I’m trying to save you unpleasantness.  But hey, if you want to eat your (normal) amount of grain while being groomed, fine.

Ixnay on the trash can-ay.

(Honestly? Sorry you hate the grooming. But we gotta.  Can you work with me here?)

On the cattle drive:

We can’t go. I got sick again. I know, I know. I’m sorry.

(FYI, I would be more mortified than you, if I fell off in front of the other cow horses. Trust me, that’s a needless worry.)

How about if I come keep you company while Dinero is gone?

You know, the big arena is dry now.  You know what that means…

GALLOP! You wanna?? Maybe find some turkeys to chase?

love,

Jane

A Few Words from Hudson on Grooming and The Cattle Drive

What Jane said about spring yesterday?  Yeah, good.  Whatever. Sunshine, butterflies, clouds and kittens. Yawn.

Jane, we need to have a little chat.

Grooming overview:

  • Mud is good. A little mud won’t hurt a guy.
  • Mud gives a dude that tough, rough, and ready look.
  • You don’t have to understand. It’s a cowboy thing.

Bring me in, scrape a square off my back, and throw on the gear, okay? Five minutes for grooming, max. No half-an-hour stuff.  Let’s GO. When did you decide I need a daily show-horse grooming? Do you know how much galloping time we lose? I’m a camping dude. I don’t care if there is a tree branch in my tail or my mane is sticking straight up.

No one cares if I look like a horse cutout of the Great Salt Flats. No. One.  Especially me. Fine. I like a good grooming. Say, 15 minutes, once a week.  If you’re going to do this daily curry, use-every-stupid-brush-in-the-box regimen, (hellooooo, just do the itchy parts, K?), followed by toweling, you must put food in front of me.

Lots of food.  A trash can full is appropriate.

Grooming Golden Rule:

The food must outlast the time it takes you to “groom”. It should also be grain.  And carrots.  Fine to toss in a few cookies. Please remember I hate apples.

I totally freaked out because of you. I should not be able to see any part of my face reflected anywhere in my coat.  I thought another horse was leaping out of my shoulder! That’s sick. And wrong. Jeeze.  Can’t a guy scratch an itch without having a heart attack? C’mon, Jane.

Thank god I’m shedding.  Finally. Bye, bye hearts. Use the shedding blade on those please. Frequently.  In fact, forget the rest of the grooming, I’ll live with mud under the saddle pad. Concentrate on shedding out those hearts my long hair.

I think Vlad’s mom has a Furminator.  Borrow it.

Now.  About moving cows this coming Sunday.

  1. I should be appropriately muddy.
  2. There will be cows: that’s what a cattle drive is.  Moving cows.  K?
  3. I am a cow horse.
  4. Do what the real cowgirls say.
  5. Let me do my job.
  6. Do NOT fall off. I repeat.  DO NOT FALL OFF.
  7. You may not embarrass me in front of the other cow horses.
  8. Blend in. Try to look like a cowgirl, maybe the other horses won’t notice the DQ aura.
  9. Don’t pretend you know what you’re doing.
  10. Do act like you can handle it. You can. You have me. ‘Nuff said.

Got it, Jane? Ixnay on the groomingay, and relax, I can do cows in my sleep.

Oh crap. Make sure you borrow tack from Bella.

If you try to ride in your dressage saddle, I will, um, accidentally…nevermind. Let’s get clear: I will BUCK you off.