Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Hooves (Feet)

I almost forgot! When I was in St. Louis I went through a tall stack of my old schoolwork and notebooks and ACADEMIC AWARDS and discovered a yellowed copy of my school paper, the Mother of Mercy High School paper, which seems to be called just e t  c e t e r a? Spaced out like that? It is not the Bugle or the Clarion or the Sun or the Observer or the Journal, no, just e t  c e t e r a looking at me so creepy above the fold. Why can't we do one single thing right in Ohio? Anyway, it's dated Tuesday November 23 1999 and it contains the finest horse article I have ever laid my rolling eyes on. It is called: EQUESTRIANS NOT JUST HORSIN' AROUND! (And if you didn't see that coming then you didn't learn anything from that last entry about my punning mother, herself formed from the richest loamiest most double-meaning Ohio dirt.) Here is the choicest passage of it, here is the choicest horseloin of it:
Many people don't realize all the work and dedication that goes into horses. Not only does the person have to be fit and healthy, the horse does too, and they depend completely on the owner for their everyday needs. Something as seemingly minor as a muscle ache can put a horse out of use for months. Responsibility is a must when working with horses. They can easily become lame if something is wrong with their hooves (feet). "This friend I have, has never talked back to me or stood me up. She is the greatest teacher in the world, yet she has never written on a chalkboard or even read a book. She is demanding and never ceases to amaze me. She is my horse," comments senior Pony Horserubber.
Names have been changed to protect just whoever. ANYONE. All of us. This friend I have, you guys. She has never written on a chalkboard with her hoof (foot), but she is the greatest teacher in the world. She never ceases to amaze me. SHE IS MY HORSE


Whimsy said...

How coincidental! I was just reading about horses this morning:

"eaten in the place of beef ... a little sweeter ... but in other respects much like it"

RHE said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
RHE said...

My high-school paper, also in the St Louis area, was called "The Tom-Tom." (Our Friday night social was called "Wig-Wam.") Those names have been banished, of course, and no longer may be uttered in polite society. Happily for me, I am not in polite society.

Pony Horserubber said...

There is something peculiarly horrifying about the idea of being stood up by a horse.

Patricia Lockwood said...

lol Pony Horserubber I had the same thought

Why did this horse reject me

I like this horse soooo muuuuch

Whimsy I have read so many descriptions of the taste of horseflesh that I'm surprised it's not in my mouth already

RHE, this school was in Cincinnati, actually, but in their lack of...linguistic foresight, shall we say, the two towns are very similar

beth coyote said...

My high school paper was called 'The Hornet's Nest'. Sting, you Hornets, sting!!!!

Horses are everyone's friends. Unless they stomp you to death or roll on you and you can't get up because they have arrows sticking out of them or they throw you on your head and you're never right after that, as in, "He hasn't been the same since the (ahem) accident and we had to shoot Blackie as well".