I took Wayne to a CMHA show up at the fairgrounds, and had him in the wash rack getting him all squeaky clean for the show the next day. And with that long thick flaxen mane and tail of his and those flaxen feathers on his feet, it took a few shampooings and some elbow grease to get him show ready. So there I am standing behind him, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing and his entire tail in a full soapy lather, and one of those ginormous pontiac horse flies lands right on top of his butt! You know, those giant one inch bombers that the horses go bananas about?
Wayne's tail went flying back and forth just as fast as it could go trying to swat that thing, and his back feet were doing the "get it off, get it off, get it off" dance! When it was all said and done, and the fly was finally dead, he was covered in soap, I was covered in soap (and spitting out soap), everybody around us got a little soap, and my glasses were stuck in his tail.
Beware of soapy tails during fly season!
I sure do miss my little man......
|Wayne babysitting a friends yearling colt, Summer 2003|