Her cat first had chewed toxic daffodils brought in by her room mate and was drooling enough for two days to warrant her first trip to the vet in three years. She seemed to feel fine, she was just drooling! Until a few hours before they got to the doc's office. With their temperature and breathing issues, he gave them antibiotics for a cold. Meanwhile her guests were complaining that her roommate's cat smelled funny, not just the breath but she and the whole house smelled like cat pee. This was the mean one she hadn't put in a carrier for the road trip. Jill booked another vet appointment, a housecall this time, for advice on all these matters. The pets got their shots while they were at it and the next day it fell apart again.
When Jill got home the cat was splayed out in a weird way on the floor and didn't move when she came in. Seven hours later the poor pet had staggered three steps to lie facing the wall and three hours later she rolled on her side. She was just lying there, not eating or drinking. Eyes open. The evil house cat kept coming over to growl at her in her sorry state. What to do, what to do, what to do. She did not have the hundreds of dollars this was costing, and she didn't know if she was just too soft and too much of a cat lady or if she was cruel to just watch the cat suffer til morning and decide then what to do.
The ride itself was lovely. Biting wind couldn't even wreck it. Jills eyes watered and thought her lips might bleed but went around the big field one more time each direction in trot. She was starting to feel fitter, and he was looking fatter.
Time to get a watch.
Jill hoped that the hoofprints she hadn't been able to find in the snow belonged to someone she would ride with more. "All this guy wanted to do was gallop." she's enthused about the deep footing, returning as Jill set out on her own.
The facility she'd visited that morning kept flashing in her mind. Imagine gorgeous leather office chairs and a huge oak desk and bookcase in the office of the barn! The horses were all huge...
She'd thrown him off asking "can you speak to some of your training philosophies here."
"I'm not sure what you're getting at."
She'd ridden in a dressage clinic once where the teacher had insisted "your horse should be more afraid of you than anything else!" and had Jill whip him into a frenzy she had long, long regretted. It was her first foray to the discipline and scarred her some. And, she already knew from other experience that she would not work in a barn where the animals were brought in for untacking with spur marks or the results of other whippings and beatings. THAT was what she was getting at, but couldn't say that...
He seemed nice. She hoped he would call back and offer her something. Something with some RIDING, ha.
No comments:
Post a Comment