I stand in the wash stall with my small black mare.
I run the water while I wait for it to warm up. The moisture changes the bricks from a dull red to a shiny bright color.
“What would you like to smell like today?” I ask her. I pull two of the shampoos off the shelf and open one. I squeeze it near her nose so the air whooshes out. She startles.
“Not green apple. Got it. How about strawberries and cream?” I open the pink shampoo and squeeze it near her. Her ears perk up and she sniffs it, her black nostrils flaring.
“Strawberries and cream it is!” I chirp to her. I rinse her off and squeeze a generous amount over her back. I grab a soft curry and scrub it into her coat. A layer of light brown foam builds over her body. I scrub her mane, down near the skin has a layer of grime. After I shampoo her, I grab conditioner and fill her tail.
It takes another 30 minutes to rinse all the soap out. I go slowly over her face. She doesn’t love getting her face washed but she allows me to rinse it with the water coming out in a mist.
Soon she is smelling like a salon.
“You look beautiful!” I unclip her crossties and walk her into her stall.
I start tacking the next set of horses up. A thunderous crash comes from the back of the barn. That sounds like it is coming from Peppa’s stall. I run towards the noise.
She had lain down to roll, and was too close to the wall. She is on her back, her legs up the side of the wall. She rolls her head back and looks at me. She is covered in bedding. Her beautiful tail I just spent all that time washing and conditioning is full of bedding.
I grab her halter and go into her stall.
“Shhhh,” I slip her halter on, standing behind her head. She thrashes again, smacking the wall with her legs. She is going to give herself a bone chip if she keeps doing that. I tip her nose away from the floor, this will keep her from getting up but it doesn’t solve the problem. Her hind legs are flat against the wall, her left front pinned under her. Her right front is tucked in but against the wall.
“You are an idiot.” She rolls her eyes at me. She knows.
I call for someone to come help us. It is quiet in the barn. A kiai would be useful right about now. I back up and look at her. If she would just roll back over onto her right side she would be free of the wall. I reach into my pocket and call my trainer.
“Spook her. It is the safest, easiest way to get her up. Go in that stall like a banshee and she will suck in a breath, tuck in her legs and get herself up.”
I cross my fingers and remove her halter.
She lies perfectly still.
“Okay Peppa. I am going to try and scare you into getting up.”
I run and grab a longe whip. I run back and throw the door open with a bang and snap the whip
“GET UP!”
“EEEEEEE!”
Of course she will squeal while she is stuck on her back on the floor.
I crack the whip again and brush it over her belly.
“GET UP! UP! NOW!” I crack the whip and leap around the doorway.
“EEEEE!” She doesn’t move. She just lies on the floor. Her ears are pinned at me.
Of course it wasn’t going to be simple.
I stand and glare at her.
I run back to the grooming stalls and grab a carrot and a longe line.
I go back to her stall. I walk towards her and she lets out a low
“Eeee.”
“I’m not going to try and scare you again.” She looks like a beached whale from this angle.
I carefully wrap the longe line around her back pastern. She is a good girl. It is a dangerous move for me, she isn’t sedated and I have to lean over her flank to reach. If she thrashes she could kick me.
I stand back and pull on the longe line. She lies still.
I am not strong enough for this.
I hear clip clopping.
My trainer is coming up the driveway with his horse. He can help me.
I drop the line and run into the aisle so he sees me first thing when he comes into the barn.
“Peppa doesn’t care about banshees. Could you help me flip her?”
“She might not be scared of your banshees but she will be scared of mine.” He grabs a whip and runs into her stall with a rush. He cracks the whips and shouts loudly at her.
“GET UP YOU BEAST!”
“EEEEEEEEE!” She doesn’t move.
“Well, I’ll be darned. I have never seen a horse squeal while stuck on the wall before.” He grabs the longe line I hooked around her pastern. I pick it up behind him.
“Ready, go.” We pull together and slowly, she is pulled over onto her right side.
She leaps up and lets out a snort. I jump forward and hug her neck. It is still damp. She is covered in bedding.
“Eee”
It is an appropriate response to my over-enthusiastic hug. My throat is tight. I hand her the carrot I have been carrying back and forth.
“I will never use strawberries and cream again.”
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