Twas dentist day at the Lovestead horse barn yesterday.
From one past experience, I knew it would be fascinating to watch Dr. Grace work her magic on Lily's mouth.
I had a pretty good idea she may have some jagged, sharp edges on her teeth, which were certainly taking some of the "pleasure" out of chewing on her grain and hay.
So, it was time to "float" her teeth.
For non-horse owners, that means using a harness-like apparatus to hold her mouth open AND giving her some happy sauce so she wouldn't mind those big instruments being inserted into her mouth and between her jaws to file down her teeth.
Turns out Dr. Grace found a sharp, really jagged, loose tooth protruding off-kilter from Lily's gum and more than likely causing daily distress with her tongue.
"This usually takes from ten minutes to an hour to remove a tooth," my vet told me.
So, out came some more state-of-the-art, high-priced utensils and some more happy sauce, administered in small doses when needed.
So, out came some more state-of-the-art, high-priced utensils and some more happy sauce, administered in small doses when needed.
By the time it was over, Lily was looking pretty drowsy but still losing her patience. Unfortunately, her tooth refused to let go.
So, my Appaloosa mare still has the tooth (which has been filed down) and the hope is that it will either come out on its own or Dr. Grace will come back in a couple of weeks to attempt to remove it again.
Before Dr. Grace came, I took a trip down the road to the Filipowski barn.
Colleen had texted me earlier to let me know that a new baby bull calf had been born overnight.
When I arrived at the barn, Jack was taking advantage of the temporary break in rainy, wet weather.
With the sun out and pleasant temperatures, it was a good time to wash the mud off from his big John Deere tractor.
I snapped some photos and we enjoyed a short visit.
The subject of "somewhere else besides North Idaho" in the winter time came up. I've heard the same topic in a few other conversations lately.
Most of us will stay put, but I'm guessing we all entertain the thought several times during each winter and each subsequent mud season.
My dad was always going to move back to Montana.
He never did.
Besides sunshine, a fun vet visit and the new baby, our day was topped off with ZAGS victory and family.
Bill took our grand nephew Jacob to the Lady ZAGS game in Spokane, while I watched the men's game with my sisters, older brother Mike, his wife and our friend Nancy.
As usual, the ZAGS get-together was fun, exciting and tasty. In both cases, happy endings as both Gonzaga teams notched another victory.
On this rainy morning after feeding the horses in the barn, rather than walking down the lane---some of which is more than ankle deep with mushy water--I chose to do my walking on the road.
Twas still pretty dark, and even though I took great care in trying to avoid the sea of pot holes, I still stepped into a couple, feeling the cold slush flowing over the top and inside my boots.
That brief walk down the road, in my mind, served as a metaphor for what we appear to be facing in our country's future: a sea of extremely disturbing unknowns along with difficult, dark paths to choose while avoiding the slop.
Could be a difficult, depressing road at the very least.
Thank God for cute baby calves, hard-working veterinarians, family, good friends and, of course, ZAGS to bring forth the joy.
Happy Friday.
Before Dr. Grace came, I took a trip down the road to the Filipowski barn.
Colleen had texted me earlier to let me know that a new baby bull calf had been born overnight.
When I arrived at the barn, Jack was taking advantage of the temporary break in rainy, wet weather.
With the sun out and pleasant temperatures, it was a good time to wash the mud off from his big John Deere tractor.
I snapped some photos and we enjoyed a short visit.
The subject of "somewhere else besides North Idaho" in the winter time came up. I've heard the same topic in a few other conversations lately.
Most of us will stay put, but I'm guessing we all entertain the thought several times during each winter and each subsequent mud season.
My dad was always going to move back to Montana.
He never did.
Besides sunshine, a fun vet visit and the new baby, our day was topped off with ZAGS victory and family.
Bill took our grand nephew Jacob to the Lady ZAGS game in Spokane, while I watched the men's game with my sisters, older brother Mike, his wife and our friend Nancy.
As usual, the ZAGS get-together was fun, exciting and tasty. In both cases, happy endings as both Gonzaga teams notched another victory.
On this rainy morning after feeding the horses in the barn, rather than walking down the lane---some of which is more than ankle deep with mushy water--I chose to do my walking on the road.
Twas still pretty dark, and even though I took great care in trying to avoid the sea of pot holes, I still stepped into a couple, feeling the cold slush flowing over the top and inside my boots.
That brief walk down the road, in my mind, served as a metaphor for what we appear to be facing in our country's future: a sea of extremely disturbing unknowns along with difficult, dark paths to choose while avoiding the slop.
Could be a difficult, depressing road at the very least.
Thank God for cute baby calves, hard-working veterinarians, family, good friends and, of course, ZAGS to bring forth the joy.
Happy Friday.
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