[Author's Note: I can use this title for my blog post and still maintain my G (PG?) rating, because it's all in the name of animal husbandry.]
Ah spring. I love the smell of antiseptic in the morning.
Today was the fateful day my yearling Finnegan was scheduled to get clipped. To change from colt to eunuch.
And I have captured it all on film for posterity.
If you tend to the squeamish, look away, look away now.
For there will be blood.
There will be body parts.....
Finnegan the yearling stud-muffin.
Starting to feel all woozy now that the juice is kicking in.
Down for the count.
Prepped and ready for surgery.
Vet M: "C'mon, buddy, where are your balls?"
And yes, he meant that quite literally.
They were being elusive and M had to go on an early Easter egg hunt.
Wait for it, wait for it.....
....and they're OUT!
The anesthesia has begun to wear off, but he's not ready for running around. M is tail surfing here to keep Finn's hindquarters upright and to keep him from taking off at a drunken gallop.
when I need a hand,
we all need
to lea-ean on.
I want my Mommy!
Afterwards, I headed inside and cleaned up, then picked up the phone to call my neighbor. She had asked if I could let her know when Finn got gelded. She wanted to turn her horses (including a mare) into the field adjoining my pasture, and didn't want any fence shananigans from Young, Handsome and Intact.
So I said, "Hey Sandy, it's your neighbor, Anne. Just wanted to let you know the testicles have left the building. My pasture is now a testicle-free zone."
Most neighbors ask to borrow a cup of sugar, or the snow-blower.
But if you're my neighbor, you're gonna get testicle talk.
Click the button. Or I'll get my scissors....
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