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October 2, 2020

Wrestling a Unicorn

They say pets resemble their owners...or owners resemble their pets- either way, Tristan and I share a lack of skin pigmentation, a love for overthinking, and if quirkiness + clumsiness were olympic sports...we would certainly win the gold.


I noticed an abnormal amount of itchiness in my big white fella in recent weeks. He tends to think he is a labrador and will snuggle his butt right up against you, turn his head and bobble, as if to say “You scratch the itchy...make it go away, Ma.” But lately, he’s been scratching on literally anything he can get next to...to the point of busting through my chicken pen to release his feathered friends. (One of which is a real cock to deal with…#yourewelcome)


After chasing chickens around in my pajamas for the third morning in a row, I decided it was time to call in the higher-ups. Thankfully our vet does monthly visits to our township & the blessed day was upon us.


“So...he’s super itchy…” I say, as I walk the vet through the barn.


“And...umm...slightly overweight,” she interrupted.


Well, excuse me- that was rude. Covid has been rough on us all. But...I guess he could use a few pounds & maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to bust through the chicken coop. 


“I think he’s just got allergies...to something in the atmosphere. Give him this skin/allergy supplement and 22 Benadryl per day...11 in the morning, 11 in the evening,” she says, after examining my fluffy, marshmallow pony.


I blink slowly...knowing that dosing my 1500lb giraffe with 11 Benadryl twice daily is going to be quite a shitshow. (And considering the fact that the supplement smells like a fishhouse, he will probably refuse food completely- which...could be good for his diet, perhaps?)


Dinner rolls around and I mix a cocktail of applesauce, ground Benadryl, and the supplement into his food...and wait patiently. He takes two steps into his stall, not even anywhere near his food bucket, sniffs the air...turns his nose completely inside out and runs out of his stall like his ass is on fire.


I follow him. He looks at me like I have been possessed by Satan himself and am trying to poison him.


Do not come near me...not today, Satan-that-looks-like-my-mom. Not today!


For the next two hours, we did the catch me if you can dance. I would pretend I wasn’t hiding a halter under my shirt...he would pretend he was going to let me touch him...and just as I would get close, he would run like I was firing shots at his hooves. For.Two.Hours.

Once detained, the real fun began...I ended up mixing a new concoction of another round of ground Benadryl, the stinky supplement and applesauce- putting it in a large syringe to shove into said giraffe-horse’s mouth so I would be sure he would eat it all. (All because I’m trying to make him feel better….because I’m concerned for his well being.)


As soon as he sees me, he begins spinning circles in his stall- which is not the most roomy of spaces. I follow and/or am being dragged by him, as he spins...all while trying to get my bearings to shove a very large syringe in a very tall horse’s mouth, and get said concoction out of the syringe...all while it’s still in said tall horse’s mouth. (Also, without being trampled to death...small detail.)


Somehow at least half of it made it in his mouth...the other half went in my hair/eyes/down my shirt. He refused to eat his dinner, which all traces of said “yucky” medicine had been removed from. But you know, for good measure...he would sooner starve. #dietingwin


At this point, I’m pretty sure I’ve inhaled enough Benadryl dust to send me into a lovely slumber for many days. Don’t worry, I’m fine...the adrenaline from our small-quarters-rodeo seemed to have evened it all out. 


We are a few weeks in now...Tristan is still a little itchy but less than before and is holding strong on refusing to willingly eat his supplement/Benadryl. (Benadryl is now only as needed...and no, it doesn’t make him sleepy or calm in the slightest.) I am able to proudly dose him almost without a halter...which I will take as a win!


Plus, I think we’ve both lost a few pounds from our double dose of daily workouts.



PC: Little Miss, the future of BBP

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