Weekend Adventures.

After lengthy discussion with Carlos' Mom about bodywork, the Kid might get more massages in addition to the chiro and the stretches.  When I put the liniment on him, I massage at the time of application.  Let me just say:  blows for the hands.  But I know that big ol' bootie has got to be sore from all the new cantering and jumping.

I didn't get to see the beast at all on Christmas.  This isn't normal.  Normally, we make time to give him some beet pulp, warmed with a little brown sugar and peppermints, and D takes pictures of us together.  Not this year!  I'm hoping to spend some extra time with him this weekend.  I hope to brush off my old braiding skills, simply because it's something that I potentially could use again one day.  Maybe.  Or I could be like Solo's Mom and roach his mane.

So, one of my coworkers had told me about a "tack store" just outside of downtown Savannah.  I think this is the same place that BO gets her beet pulp.  D and I went by there on Saturday.  I was skeptical, because I always am, but I was proved right.  Not a tack store.  They had a handful of halters - cotton and cheap leather- and a solitary nylon bridle, complete with cheap, long-shanked thumb bit.  They had a few brushed and hoof picks.  Several winter blankets (though, I'll probably still get his next one from SmartPak).  Some helmets.  And, strangely, eighty bajillion girths and cinches.  I was shocked.  Leather, webbing, fleece lined, and even an okay-looking dressage girth.  Oh, and two very cheap-looking "complete package" English consignment saddles.






I forgot about the one pair of $70 breeches.


I should preface this.  I was drunk.  The husband and I had gone out to eat and I'd had two beers.  I don't know why this knocked me on my ass, but it did.  So, when the stereotypical demographic walked in with the stereotypical breed ("He a red-nosed pit bull."), I couldn't quite keep my mouth shut.  This poor little puppy was laying by the front door, terrified to walk further in.  His entire body trembled.  His owner seemed like he'd never really owned a puppy before and was asking the proprietor of this establishment questions about food and training.  The shop keeper recommended a choke chain for a four-month-old puppy!  I was aghast.  D had to do the whole stern-finger-in-face thing to keep me from spewing vitriol all over everyone.  By this time, I'd weaseled my way near to the puppy, as the shop keeper asks about food.  The puppy's owner replied that he was feeding shoe-leather reconstituted as dog food.  Or, Ol' Roy, as is the common name.  As the shop keeper started recommending the crap he sold, I tried to interject that the puppy needed to be on quality puppy food.  I was ignored.  I left, never to return again.

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2 comments

  1. I actually feel like I need some bodywork today, and blegh Ol' Roy.... ugh!

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    1. One of the vets I work for showed us a study comparing two edible items, but without telling us what those items were. In the end, it really was shoe leather and Ol'Roy.. And the shoe leather was more nutritious.

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