Before I get started, I have to say that as I was typing the title of this post I realized that since I often shorten Xena’s name to Xe, I could apply the same system to my name and we would be P and Xe. That’s not really very flattering.

So moving right along, I took Xe to an equine chiropractor today, and it was an entirely not horrible experience. She hasn’t had too many people work with her doing anything, let alone an adjustment, and she handled it well. Maybe it helped to have other horses around for distraction, even some frisky 2-year-olds that were having a raucous time in the corral next to where the chiro was working. She was giving him the “yeah, whatever, dude, just don’t block my vision of those yahoos,” but when he’d get something popped in she was all “oooh, lovely, happy feeling, man, thanks.”

The loading at home and at the facility was not the glorious success I had hoped for with her waltzing into the trailer like she was thrilled to be visiting her second home, like a chalet in a lush green field. However, she didn’t throw a big hissy fit and rip my arm out of the socket or drag me down the road whilst my dug-in heels left furrows in the slimy mud. In the end, I count it as a success since she hasn’t been hauled much and she literally has drug me around as described in times past.

I had a sort of mixed performance as well. I forgot the checkbook in the pickup so had to make an extra slogging trip there and back again — because it was obviously beyond me to wrangle a horse and deal with being around people and consider any practical matter like paying for services rendered when rendered.

On the plus side, I did remember to drive the pickup around the cul-de-sac at the end of the facility’s road so I was pointed in the direction of quick escape before parking. Thus I prevented any chance of getting blocked from forward motion by other trailers and having to back the horse trailer into some god-awful nook to get jockeyed around to leave.

Like I did last year.

When I had to screech the horse trailer fender down an old fence post, half-toppled in the tall grass already, to get out of the god-awful nook which I couldn’t seem to get backed into at any angle that would allow clear maneuving space to pull out toward home.

So, score one for me because that forward-thinking, non-demolition success totally trumped a little jaunt through the mud for the check book. Of course, I’ve been planning ahead for a year to get the parking thing done right this time.

I’ll shoot for a more perfecter trip next year …

start planning tomorrow at: pam(at)viewfromthenorth40.com

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