I can’t remember what kind it is, but I bought some last week and as soon as I spritzed the Mo, the evil flies fell away like so much dew burning up in the intense sun of an insanely hot morning. He also quit stomping his poor feet and was even jolly enough to do some prime spooking when he saw a small green weed that was growing inside the ring. Oh, and I tried a fly mask on him but perhaps he has never seen a fly mask before so my efforts to get it on his head were not successful.
I’ve made a commitment at my barn to raise the funds for Fly Predators, so I’ve been reading up on them. Got a brochure in front of me right now, from Spalding labs in fact, and I’d really like to see us all pitch in and give it a try starting this April. I’m working on a marketing campaign and as soon as I get my “Design for Non-Designers” book, I’m going to put together some little posters (very little — gotta fit in the printer) and make one of those fund-raiser thermometer things with “$0” on the bottom and “$485” at the top or whatever the total will be. I think it’s worth a try. Heck, I hope it’s worth a try. Flies suck.
I started saving Moe-hair (“mohair” Ha ha!) from Mopey’s tail for to make a horsehair bracelet. I think I’m going to go with Twisted Tails for the production because I like the pictures of the delicate bracelets, the price, the instructions on how to get hair and what to do with it, and the responsiveness to e-mail. I think I have enough and so now just need to get it packaged and shipped off.
Looking at if after I collected it was a bit alarming. It’s weird to find yourself with a handful of hair, weird to wash it, weird to put it aside and let it dry. I sort of forgot about it and kept getting small shocks when I caught sight of the long, wild strands of mostly black tail hair drying on a towel. I stashed the towel on top of some books on the bookshelves at just-above-eye-level. “Good God!” I thought, “How did that get in here and what the heck is it anyway? Oh. Wait. I know what it is. And I brought it into the house. *Whew!*.”
I scared myself with the tail end of some beets the other day too. While slicing, one of the ratty things wound up on the floor and when I saw it out of the corner of my eye a few hours later, I thought it was some kind of horrible dead mutant lizard. All this human-spooking gives me an added level of appreciation for why horses spook.
I am in no way shape or form connected with any company that sells anything (like Mountain Horse — I just like the advertising layout) but I’ve just got to plug a product I bought this week. It’s a curry comb by Oster and I have no idea if the horse likes it or not, but my lord did it feel good on my hands!
It’s round with a neat little handle on the top that you grip like a Mama Libman’s scrub brush and it has a nice elastic band so you can hang it around your wrist or on a nail or something. It’s got a bunch of little rubber “spikes” — and when you massage the palms of your own hands with it, nerve endings are stimulated in a way that’s pretty unique. For me, there’s a 1/2 second delay between the time I first brush my palm with the the thing until the nerves say “Hey! That felt nice! Do it again!” I tested the thing on my own palm first before buying it and I have no idea if the average set of horse skin nerves receive a similar sensation, but I can hope.