This is Kip this morning, refusing to wake up. He’s like a small child that doesn’t want to go to school on Monday morning. He’ll look at me from his reclining position, then flop over on his side like a horse that has just been shot. He pretends to sleep, with his eyes half open. I pull on the leadrope, and he groans like a lost soul. I’ve sat on him, pulled on him, poked him, flapped my jacket at him…but it’s usually a good ten minutes before I can wake him up.
Lizzie, turned out in a corner of the small outdoor arena, in her posh polo wraps. The swelling in the hock has gone down, although the laceration itself is very slow to close and is threatening to develop proud flesh. I still have her wrapped, with an aloe gel; I’ll decide on Monday about having the vet out again.
I’ve been deep in the new Harry Potter. *bounce* I’ve been waiting AGES for this!