Jj is for Jottings 36. A Spitty Story.

The one year in which we had the entire back paddock mown rather than having just a fire break, Manuel decides to keep things interesting by getting a grass seed in his eye. You’d think the chances of a grass seed in the eye would have reduced with no long grass in the paddock. Manuel emphatically does not like being haltered or shorn or having his toenails done, and he makes this very clear by spitting at the person who is displeasing him. He spits so much when he is being shorn that I put a sock over his nose and mouth to catch it and stop it fouling up everything within reach. On this occasion I managed to get a halter on him with a minimum of fuss (and spit), but I couldn’t actually extract the grass seed because he pulled away every time I tried, and I really needed three or even four hands for the job. So I went and got David to help.
When David approached, Manuel went beserk – plunging about and spitting in all directions, which this time included in my mouth (super yuk!), and right down from neck to knees. Eventually, by dint of tying him tightly to a pole (Manuel, not David) and David firmly holding both of Manuel’s ears, I pulled out the grass seed and sprayed his eye with antibiotic spray. Surprisingly, he has stood still every morning since then while I spray his eye, although he gave me A Look this morning, so maybe tomorrow will be different. I’m praying for no more grass seeds, and I bet he is, too.