Relative Something

Imagine if your dentist did house calls. Great, yeah, but then imagine that your dentist sedated you and put a contraption on your face so you couldn’t close your mouth just so you wouldn’t bite the grinder that was filing sharp points from your molars.

Looks like fun, eh?

Tell that to the horses. They had been given a dose of “I-don’t-care-about-anything” medication that left them all rather drowsy in their stalls.

They didn’t seem to care and they definitely didn’t seem like they’d had any fun.

At least the horses weren’t stressed by being in their stalls after our frequent periods of giving them chances to get used to the inside of the barn again. Unfortunately, it was uncomfortably hot inside and they worked up quite a sweat despite the fans positioned to move air through the barn.

We couldn’t let them out until enough of the sedative had worn off that they’d regained their senses.

It’s hard to tell whether they feel as good to have this process completed as we do knowing it’s done. I’m not the one trying to eat the little feed pellets but I am feeling really happy that their mouths have been inspected and cared for by an equine veterinarian.

At the same time, I’m under no illusion that this will mean they waste any less food by letting it fall out of their mouths while chewing.

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