Battle of the Burs, part 2

Yeah, I’m still on the topic of bur removal. Now that I have my weapons (really cool flexible gloves and sunflower oil) I’m armed for a fight, or what passes for a fight if one is actually a pacifist.

Late this afternoon, neighbor Sara came over for her monthly hoof trimming of Apache and Drew. Since Apache was going first, I figured I could de-bur him at the same time. We were very lucky that he seems to be feeling better, and he happily let us both work on him at the same time.

I first got at least some of the dirt and clumped mud off him. He’s fond of rolling to get rid of flies. Then I worked on the tail. Wow. About 40 burs came off with no irritation on either his or my part. Sara suggested I braid it, so I tried. If this doesn’t work I’ll wrap it in horse bandage stuff. I have tons from Nancy, the lady we got the horse trailer from.

Next came the once-white mane. It wasn’t as bad as Drew’s, but there was a huge wad between his ears. I got one big bur stab on my index fingertip (the one I use to knit and type on the phone, of course). I understand that the burs must fight back a little. Apache got a lot of oil on his coat, but he enjoyed having it rubbed in.

I had just enough time to braid his mane before Sara was finished putting thrush medicine on. I didn’t try anything fancy on the oily and dirt-encrusted mess. I did put matching rubber bands in.

The braids do emphasize his lack of proper muscles. But now that it’s dried out a little we can do more than plod. He was so patient. I love how he lowers his head for me to remove his forehead burs. They must bother him, too.

Meanwhile, Drew was over in the other pen bothering Fiona and getting kicked. I’m sure she was glad when I came and got him. He was more interested in the prospect of his dinner than any hoof trimming or bur removal.

Drew proceeded to kick over my box of rubber bands, poop on Sara, not let me touch his mane burs, and generally act moody. His feet looked okay anyway, so he just got thrush stuff and frog trimming (that’s part of a hoof). So that bur skirmish didn’t go as well.

But I will fight again tomorrow! Phase three will be Death to Cocklebur plants. Yes, I know they are dying anyway, because they’re annuals (huge annuals) but they are going in the burn pile! A warrior’s funeral pyre will ensue, eventually.