Sunday, January 24, 2010

I Need Golf Shoes

The relatively mild weather continues, with even a bit of sun thrown in here and there. Today Jack and self are cached behind the barn as a south wind, full of vim and vigour, is blowing up under our tails. Doc is doing some logging work in our grove of trees and Molly is literally eating the rail fence. The status quo prevails.

I am having one rather serious problem, however, and the woman is being no help at all. The others seem to navigate quite well on this icy/snowy/muddy terrain but I find myself stranded on the one patch of earth next to the barn. I loathe this footing and as a consequence become quite tense and stilted when I attempt to move about, exacerbating the problem. Jack breezes by, unfazed by the possibility of breaking something. The woman says I am neurotic, self-absorbed and unduly prone to fretfulness but I say I'm just careful.

I have heard of special shoes used by humans to play something called golf. I know these would solve my problem and surely four small ones would not be too expensive or hard to find? Or perhaps just some cheese graters to strap on my feet? Or why can't the woman simply carry me from place to place? Heaven knows the exercise would do her good.

Meanwhile, Jack continues to gallop about recklessly, leaping over things and making turns like a rabbit being pursued by wolves. Sometimes he even shoves me as he passes, trying to push me into action. I hear the wind whistling through his ears and he yells back over his shoulder "git yer a** in gear, sonny!" MOST unseemly for someone of his years but I choose to be charitable and chalk it up to late-blooming childhood.


billie said...

Sheaffer, I was wondering about the chewing on wood thing. I gathered a load of fallen wood for the woodstove yesterday and the equines circled around the wheelbarrow and proceeded to chow down, as though I had offered up an all-you-can-eat salad bar on wheels. It seems to happen this time of year, when, I suppose, the yearning for something tender and green makes even the nicest hay seem dull.

My dad used to have several pairs of golf shoes and if I still had them I would cut them down to size and send them on.

I imagine you would get caught up with the pattern they make, and The Woman would find you imprinting everything in sight. A new art form.

Jack must be secretly sipping from the Fountain of Youth - his escapades make me wonder... has he made a deal with the devil?!

libraryperson said...

Abracadabra says she manages quite fine without any shoes in any weather.

She has not slipped yet!

Bouncy Dog said...

Oh Sheaffer ! Where's your Joie de Vivre ? You're much too young to be so cautious.

You need to step off your patch of earth next to the barn, BOUNCE on out into the mud and slush, and have yourself a good roll before it all freezes again. There's only a day or two left of this January Thaw. You should follow Jack's lead and not waste another minute.

Just think of the look on the Woman's face when she sees you all caked in muck. Just think of the lovely back scratching she'll have to give you to get it all off. It'll be soooo worth it to venture beyond your comfort zone... even without those Golf Shoes.

Buddy said...

Oh Sheaffer the mud is much fun to run and slip and slide and make your woman nuts. My mom thinks I'm gonna slide and break a leg - I just go faster - yes my legs are going in all the wrong directions but it sure is fun to do and especially watching mom cover her eyes and say no Buddy - stop - whoa. Then she puts on the blankie at night and I immediately go roll in the mud - oh the fun I have. She has groomed me two days in a row - mud in my ears and other parts I wouldn't mention. Its great fun - you really should just jump in there and run like the devil - slip slide get all dirty - WHOO HOO!!!

Your fren

completecare said...

Hi Sheaffer,
I know just how you feel about slipping on the ice. Who would look after my bevy of beauties if I was injured!!!!! Our human has fed us inside for the last few days because of the ice. It is wonderful. We don't have to walk to the outside feeders - the food is delivered to within feet of where we are standing. Some of the horses venture out for a change of scenery but we donkeys stay put - where it is safe. The human put gripper things on her boots this morning to get to the hayshed and mailbox. They looked like torture equipment from the middle ages with spikes and coils of wire. I wonder if they come in donkey sizes. At least, she was able to get our hay to the barn so I am not making fun of her footwear.

Stay safe,

Your fan,


BumbleVee said...

hahahah Sheaffer..... that was funny. I got such a laugh at the mental image of Herself strapping cheese graters on your rather diminutive feet.... clank, clankety, clank..... boy, that'd be a crazy day. Worse than plastic bags.... yikes! You'd be airborne and going in several directions at once.... no, no....that just won't do. Golf shoes or nothing at all....

ponymaid said...

Billie, wood is a most sublime snack - full of fibre and earthy goodness. Molly, with my help, is reducing the rail fence to tootpick size. A shame about your father's golf shoes - I quite fancy myself in a set of four. I would feel very confident striding around the paddock. As regards Jack, I fear he has a portrait of himself cached in the rafters. As it ages, he grows ever younger..."The Portrait of Jack Donkey".

My dear libraryperson, I have seen photos of Abra's magnificent feet and I can well imagine she is not short of traction!

Oh Bouncy Dog, how you alarm me! I fear you are taking a walk on the wild side and that the consequences may be dire. Mud in all it's forms is dangerous, rank, slippery and glutinous and I avoid it at all costs. I worry constantly about being sucked down into the morass. Be careful my friend and never trust any footing but sand.

Buddy, be careful! Doc and Molly also indulge in frequent mud baths and enjoy tearing around like mad things - it must be a horse preference. However, if you can frighten your woman sufficiently you may be able to extract treats.

Willy,I knew I could count on you to be sensible! Stay put and allow the humans to cater to your every whim.
If they do make you some grippy footwear could you please send me blueprints?

BumbleVee, you raise an interesting point. What about the noise factor - and would it follow me everywhere from all four corners? I think you're right in thinking golf shoes are the only solution. Possibly antique models from the 1920's.

robert5721 said...

sorry for having been gone for so long, but I was in the hospital getting some plumbing re arranged, and then had to go back in because one of the incisions (I think that is what they call them) opened up.. they use staples to keep them closed, but took them out too early before they were well healed....
Now, the only thing that is well heeled is the hospital treasury and the Doctors bank account..

Ask Mr Jack if he wants to help me out with my exercise routine to get over this hospital mess.. sore is NOT the word for it.. hurts like hell, and the pain killers barely work on it.. have him send me some ideas for that one if you will sir.. will be appreciated.

as far as the golf shoes, here we use these things called YAK TRAX .... they are a rubber band of sorts with a wire coil around them that you strap on to your feet.. cheap and they WORK like a dream on ice, snow, and all other forms of slime one might be exposed to.. like the docinator blowing his snotlocker on the floor or whatever. Try them
well, I have to go put my feet higher than my heart for awhile to keep the swelling down, hope to hear from you soon !!
Your friend and advisor,
Mr Gale

ponymaid said...

Mr.Gale, this is alarming news! We wish you a speedy recovery and lots of traction with those foot gadgets. Jack says you should consult Drs. Beam and Daniels but he refuses to reveal their medical credentials. Doc is so taken with the word "snotlocker" that he spent all morning blowing his nose on the floor. This is not a good thing. I will now censor everything I read to him. Other than leaping over wheelbarrows for recreational purposes, Jack is drawing a blank on rehabilitation ideas. He's never had what he calls "sturgery" so I fear his understanding of your sort of pain is limited. We wish you well, my friend.