Battered and Abused

Feeling a little sorry for myself this evening. This morning at work, one of the yearlings, Esmerelda, ambled out of her stall after the mares all had breakfast, and as usual stopped to visit me. She’s a darling, and it can be difficult to get rid of her. She snuffles my shoes, licks my shins, and leans against me for scratches. Since she’s lost her halter somewhere, I can’t get a hold of her to drag her out bodily and am usually reduced to pushing her reluctant little butt out the back door. This morning though, as she was inspecting my knees, I looked down just as something spooked her. She flung her head right up into my face. Hard. Really REALLY hard. Smashed my lower lip up into an upper front tooth. The pain was blinding, and I staggered around, doubled over as my mouth filled up with blood.

Then, of course, Soupy wandered around, confused as I tried to chase her out as well. You’d think she’d never even seen that barn in her life before and had no idea where that back door was. In my writhing agony, I finally lost my patience and roared, rather incoherently “OOOOUUUUUUTTTT!!!” I am fairly sure that Soupy thought I’d just morphed into a horse-eating lion (I may have even had blood dripping from my mouth just to complete the picture of ferocity). She almost did a complete four-legged splat on the concrete in her rush to escape. Nearly running over Esmerelda in the process (Esmerelda was disconsolately hanging around hoping to have her ears scratched… apparently having no idea that she’d nearly knocked me unconscious).

I went home for a cold pack, some pain killers and a cup of tea (the tea was a BIG mistake – no hot stuff when you have a gaping hole on the inside of your lip!) before going back. Jen offered to come and help me finish up the stalls, bless her soul.

My face has been numb all day, lip is all swollen, and there is a big gash on the inside of it that is making food less tempting than normal.

Last week, Dressy stomped on my foot. Not stepped… stomped. My feet were in crocs (bright lime green crocs -very stylish. Hmmm… maybe the colour offended her?), and I was standing in front of her. She picked her foot way up, reached well forward, and slammed it down toe first right in the middle of my foot. Perfect aim. I still have a bruise from that one. And yes, I know. Totally unsuitable footwear. That’s what happens when your horses live in your backyard. You visit them in crocs, sandals, nightgowns, bathrobes, etc.

The week before THAT, Dressy dropped me in the neighbour’s field when she spooked at a deer. One of those 180 degree prop and wheel spooks that feel like a bad cartoon. I had the reins in my left hand, she spun hard right, and I was left kind of horizontally in mid-air. I hit the end of the reins before I hit the ground and it flipped me upside down so I was driven head first into the muddy field. Ended up with mud in the vents of my helmet. Undignified, but probably a good thing it was soft anyway. As it was, I ended up in the emergency room because I thought my left arm was broken. Turned out that it was just pulled muscles and soft tissue damage of some kind in the elbow joint. And shoulder. And hand. I didn’t speak to her for three days I was so mad.

I’m going to run out of body parts.

Why do I love horses again????

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