March 16, 2013

To all those who never came off a horse the wrong way – don’t.  I have fallen off a horse a few times now, but never like I did a few weeks ago. This time the saddle slipped and dumped me on my ribs. Bruised, broken, or cracked – who knows? I wasn’t given x-rays because the x-rays don’t always pick theses things up and the treatment is the same for all three scenarios anyway – pills to kill the pain.  Of course, depending on the pill, they can be quite addicting or cause liver problems, so it’s not really a “win” situation. Any way, I understand that the heal time can take months. And yes, I am riding again. Twice this week, but nothing dumb.

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Since I led in with horses… Louie has made a full recovery from his eye removal. He’s bouncin’ around the pasture like a charged up ping pong ball - happy and seemingly pain free. He’s doing really good and it’s really good to see him so playful! Watching him now, I know we made the right decision at New Bolton. And no, it wasn’t Louie that caused the above mentioned incident.  Louie never would have let me fall. Super Lou, would have felt that saddle slipping and inhaled. On the other hand, I think Bill Clinton trained the horse I was on.

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A week after I did in my ribs, Kath and I headed back up to the Allentown area for another goat adventure. We purchased two boer does, approximately 3 1/2 months old. The farm owner was happy to see them come with us – all the goat kids at his farm are eventually sold at auction and finished for meat. I think he liked these two and was glad to know that they will have a different chance at fate. Right now they are in a separate pen from the others until they get acclimated and checked out by the vet. In another week or so, we will put them in with Frances, Irene, and Mary. The names of the new gals are Martha and Ellen.

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Wearing of the green is tomorrow….and I will admit it – I don’t like bagpipes. They sound like fingernails across a black board. Like two cats screaming in a brawl. Bad brakes on an eighteen wheeler.  Like an old guy moaning in pain that just fell off a horse and broke a rib or two. My opinion has nothing to do with the fact that I am not Irish; it’s just that awful noise that bagpipes make. I don’t think anyone really likes bagpipes. I think they pretend to like them just to be polite.