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The Maintenance Blues


Forgive me if I've said this before, but I am the best mule for FarmWife. There is not another mule in the world better than me! I know it, and more importantly, she knows it.

Fifteen years ago, FarmWife had a special horse named Duracell. Special as in "this horse is going places" special and special as in short-bus special. Both.

Dor was crazy, wonderful, and talented. He had baggage galore and had to be ridden with a feather touch, but he could jump the moon. He had shelly feet. He was constantly dinging himself up. He only stayed sound in square-toed shoes with pads and outside trailers, which cost a friggin' fortune. He regularly suffered from hives, colic, and various weepy rashes. He was tall, athletic, fast, and fit. He was prone to nosebleeds. He was a worry wart. FarmWife, her mom, her farrier, and her vet did all they could to keep that horse sound. He was worth it, but when FarmWife and her mom finally sold him into an upper-level eventing home, they were relieved. He had taken a lot of work. His new owner could afford a slew of specialists for him, and he shone in his new career.

Today, FarmWife defines her perfect athlete thus: Sound. Sane. Sturdy. Sweet.

If I needed shoes to stay sound or if I needed supplements or therapy to stay healthy, FarmWife would find a way. She loves me for who I am, but she appreciates me for how I am. How easy. How simple. How fun. I am, knock-on-wood, a deliciously low-maintenance mule.

May your equines be sound, sane, sturdy and sweet too!

Ears,
Fenway

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