Farrier

Last night Mitch and I were lying in bed, listening to the thunder and talking about this and that, and I mentioned that I wish there was a foot lotion that really put its money where its mouth is and included some kind of acid in its ingredients to stop the disgusting build-up of callouses on my heels.  Mitch feigned being grossed-out and suggested a farrier.  I couldn't recall right away what a farrier is, but then it slowly dawned on me. He could see it dawning on me and clenched up tight in preparation for my wrath, and probably questioned the wisdom of suggesting his wife is horse-like while in the vulnerable position of being flat on his back with hardly any protective clothing on.

When I finally figured out what he was insinuating, I said, "WWWWHAT?!"  and he quickly petted my nose and whispered, "Easy girl.  You might be nervous at first, but he's a pro, he could calm you down."  I thrashed and tried not to laugh and he said, "Is the thunder making you jumpy, girl? ...shhhhhhh" and continued to pet my muzzle, - I mean nose, and said, "Mmmmm ... velvety."   I tried to attack him with everything I had but he is stronger than me and held me down and put a very flat hand up to my mouth as if he was feeding me carrots, and then petted my nose and continued to whisper, "Shhhhhh..... shhhhhhhhh...."

I hate to admit it, but it was quite calming.  I will ride this out, I guess, but if he introduces a bridle or a riding crop, I'm gonna bolt, and no amount of sugar cubes will lure me back, MITCH.

UPDATE:  When Mitch read this post he said, "Do you really think if you were a horse, you would look like the horse you put on this post?  Because you wouldn't."

WTF, Mitch...