OK, its like this...I am in the barn hanging out with my three year old filly, Mia, who very recently ingested way more goat feed than a horse is supposed to. Have a call into my vet, who is on the way. Just grooming, brushing her; more to calm me than her. Her barn neighbor the not so friendly Zulu, named accurately for the African warrior, stretches her long black neck around the corner to snap out a not so friendly nip at my soon to be ailing friend. Defending my rightful sovereignty as Queen of the Barn, I take a swing at the nasty mare. I miss of course. The rubber curry comb clutched in the defending arm is lost in the momentum and swirls across the yard. My ever-faithful dog Howard, who was nowhere to be seen only moments ago sweeps into view making off with the blue treasure almost before I realize I have lost it...Of course.
And I wait for the vet.