Club Med Spa

Monday afternoon, I raced to the vet's office to see my sick boy. He definitely was. I could see him trying to focus on me. Then he would yawn and yawn and his head would hang down real low. I rubbed on him and left him to sleep. Tuesday I called and his temp was down to 98 already. They said the drugs work like a miracle on the tick-bite disease. He was outside in a large stall, counting Fords and Chevys and keeping an eye on the animals who were coming into the vet's office. There were dogs next door and the car wash was busy--he had lots of entertainment.

That night, I walked him into his indoor stall to spend the night. The maid had been there. Fresh sawdust, fresh water, and a pile of hay (is that like a mint on your pillow?). He was like, "See ya mom." The next day I couldn't go in because I work until 6pm. I called to see how he was doing. 

"He doesn't like our hay very much, so I gave him some alfalfa to find in his hay pile. Margaret has been out to brush him and give him some carrots." What?! Alfalfa? I do have to ride him again sometime! OMG! He is being spoiled. A nice warm stall with fresh sawdust (which he loves to roll in), alfalfa and no one to fight over it, carrots, and lots of attention and brushing. He is not going to want to come home. He will lock those front legs and refuse to get in the trailer!

Unfortunately for Jupes, the Spa is not exclusive. They let a goat in. I got there about 4:40 on Thursday. They said, "He has had a tough day. He has seen goats and a big bull, among other things. He does not like goats." Hmm. I don't think he has ever seen a goat. He was already in his stall. I could hear a goat bleating pitifully. I popped up to his stall door (Hilton Hotel room) to see him. His rear was up against the back wall and his whole posture was up--making himself look big. He was staring across the hallway toward the goat's stall.

I went in with apples and a brush. What was there to brush? His dreds in his tail are completely gone. His mane, although wild, was looking perfectly groomed. I think all his winter hair has been smoothed and brushed away. Talk about looking good! He has lost a few pounds and standing there at attention, I do not think he has ever looked more handsome. He does not look like that little horse we brought home. This spa vacation is worth the money! (If Star had only given it a chance!)

As beautiful as he looked, I could not stay in his stall very long. He was definitely agitated over the goat. She was a little, pitiful thing. Nothing a big, powerful horse should be upset over! He circled and circled and could not keep his eyes off the goat's stall. Even after her owners took her home. When the big barn door opened, he craned his head around and leaned against the stall door. He is ready to go--ready to check out of the spa. He is not happy with the clientele at what had been his spa resort. He thought it was an exclusive place for gorgeous Morgans. He did not know they would let in the riff-raff.

I hope he is still ready to go today. Although, as soon as we get home I know he is going to roll in the mud and get oak leaves in his tail. It's going to rain and he is no longer going to look like he stepped out of the beauty parlor. He's going to have to run poor Buster around and remind him that he's last in the pecking order. He's going to have stories to tell to his pals for sure--but they won't take him seriously until he no longer looks like a pretty boy.