The Princess and the Bean

So many titles ran through my mind for this post.

A bean in the hand is worth two in the bush?
Miles and the bean(stalk)?
I came, I saw, I de-beaned?
A bean of a different color?

Hey, I didn't say any of them were good. You all know what's coming, right? Well, those of you with geldings or stallions do. Those that don't...you just consider yourself lucky and go hug your mare.

Yesterday was a particularly beautiful Michigan day...in fact, so is today, and the weekend looks gorgeous. This is an important detail. Nice weather emboldens me.

(Amanda, who helps me stuff my horse with nootrishus beet pulp when I cannot, tells me he's been quite bum-itchy in the stall the last two days. Hmmmm...tapeworm? Sweet itch? Dry skin? Could be a million things. Sheath? Oh sure, sure, could be, but it could be OTHER things. I pick up Listerine and Baby Oil in hopes of "other things". ANY other thing.)

I arrive at the barn, and Lovely Miles was lovely. He's looking so fit and healthy, and he was in a spectacular mood; relaxed, good appetite, all that stuff. No sign of tail rubbing. Hooray! I threw his tack on and took him to the arena to lunge before riding.

He's a good boy on the lunge, with the exception of two HUGE monster bucks...again. Miles just...doesn't buck. Not two lungings in a row.

(What's that you say? Bucking can be a sign of discomfort?? Possibly GENITAL discomfort? Hahaha, let's not jump to conclusions! He's just happy it's not 90 percent humidity! Look, there, he's showing off for his mare-girlfriend who's watching him! What are you, some kind of perv?)

Pshaw, other than the two bucks he's moving really well. I get on and we have a super ride, all things considered. He's a bit lazy and seems to be taking full advantage of the fact that I've forgotten my crop, but all in all I'm happy. We quit after a particularly nice 20 meter circle at the canter.

(See he's fine! Phew, that was close! Always looking for the worst!)

I lead my good boy back to the barn for many pettings and treatings and hosing-downs. He adopts the pee-stance, so I hurry him into the stall where he goes. And stops. And goes again.

(CRAP. My mission is now clear.)

So, he's eating his dinner and acting just fine. I'm a little nervous and twitchy, knowing what I have to do. Do I wait for him to drop? Do I just go to town and start, um, exploring as is? I don't have gloves, dammit. OR soapy water. Maybe this can wait until tomorrow....

Just then Amanda leads her two mares into the barn. Miles raises his head, gives his Casanova nicker, and resumes eating.

Dropping!!! We have dropping people!

NOW I'm nervous. I look around. No witnesses-Amanda's back is turned, busying herself with her girls (damn lucky Amanda with her girls!). Here is where impulse takes over. We have no logical thought process from this point on-this is all some weird reptilian brain-stem instinct. A summary:

GrabItDoNotThinkAboutWhatYouAreHoldingInsertFingersWhereTheyOughtNotBeInsertedOMFGWhatISTHATHookFingerAroundItPLOPItFallsOut

And Scene!

Miles best WTF was that?!? face

Actually, he barely noticed. By the time he raised a hind leg in annoyance the bean was on the floor, as it were (if anyone is curious, it truly looks like a bean...an off-white kidney bean. Don't think I didn't consider taking a picture, though it turns out I do have limits. Who knew?). He never stopped eating. I like to think it was my Mad Skillz.

Actually, I don't. I do not want to think of myself being skilled in this area, ever.

In fact, we shall not speak of it again. I did what I had to do. And so would you:)