The Serial Ripper.

 

 

 

Welcome to my Tuesday rant.

While I do my best to understand that 'horses gunna horse'.  Hmm yeah, not the same affect as the Taylor Swift song.

I totally get it. Horses gunna horse, frolic, bite, kick, arrange new ways to incur vet bills, murder perfectly good tack and shred blankets. I get it.

But what do you do when you have a serial ripper on the loose and owner refuses to admit that their little honey is a menice?

And I mean serial, this gelding has got to be collecting blanket shreddies for some weird voodoo thing or something and it is some frustrating!

 

 

First it started with poor Thundy-bug. Thundy's momma buys him the best of everything, which means he has a blanket for each day of the week and each fashion mood. (No, I am just kidding, but he does have a ton of high end blankets).

This 'ripper gelding', or so he shall be named to protect the innocent-ish owner, started off by biting holes all over Thunder's blankets, and then when Thunder turned his back to said gelding, the ripper would grab his butt flap and yank until it but ripped off.

 

When Thunder's blanket was no longer a fun shredding toy, he would move on to the two other mares in the paddock with Paloma. As long as he had three chew toys, he was content but despised by the momma's and poppa's of the poor ravaged ponies.

 

 

Finally after several cases of shreddings and the 'Ripper's' owner refusing to allow him be moved to solitary confinement to think about his sins against his fellow horse-kind, Thunder moved out on his own to toast merrily in his new Bucas oven. Complete with reflective colouring! Thou shall never lose Thunder in the light of the moon anymore. (That is another story).

 

 

One piece of the puzzle removed and now the Ripper is down a chew toy.

So you ask how desperate is he to fill this new space of need?

Well, he is desperate enough to go after boss mare, Paloma, who merely has to look the right way and everyone scatters within an inch of their life.

 

Summing up this rant, Paloma is now enjoying the lovely -22*c drafts up her hiney, (now, that is refreshing!), and I am left having a mental tizzy with myself attempting to contain my curse words and maintain this newly found clean mouth of 2015.

 

 

 

*So glad for the backspace on the keyboard!