A totally unexpected Saturday

So far, very little of today has gone like I thought it would.

I mean, the alarm was normal.  Feeding the dog was normal.  Getting dressed, all that jazz, fine.

Then I told Tara I was thinking of going out to the farm early, and she informed me we had no farrier appointment.  But the reason sucked.  The farrier's mom died.  I'm okay with him missing appointments but I'm not okay with his mom dying.  That SUCKS.  Felt bad for him.

Anyway I went out to the farm and started grooming Pluto.  He is currently bicolor because I groomed half of him and then I noticed his jaw.  The underneath of his jaw.  It had blood and dried pus stuck to it.  Oh god.  Not good.

I called my vet and she verified that in fact we need to be worried about strangles, and gave me some instructions.  Pluto and his fieldmate are in quarantine.  Vet is coming out tomorrow to culture Pluto's pus (yuck!) and I had to go buy diapers.  Pluto is now wearing a flymask with a diaper wrapped around the velcro to catch any pus which might fall.  Which, also yuck.

So Pluto is quarantined.  I went to watch Tara ride since I couldn't ride myself.  Dang Timber does not understand "contagious" and wanted to follow me around.  I took some pictures (not posted here to save Tara's embarrassment) and got chilly since I wasn't exercising.  Then I went to the grocery.

There I purchased diapers, soap, vaseline, and Purell.  All necessary for the quarantine and treatment.  However, when I got back to the barn the Purell had disappeared.  I remember putting it in the basket.  I remember scanning it.  I remember putting it in the bag.  How'd it disappear?

Back at the farm I put the diaper on Pluto's flymask.  He looks *ridiculous*.  No bets on whether it's still on tomorrow when I get there.

Also?  Pluto badly needs his sheath cleaned.  Trying to remember to take warm water and disposable gloves out with me tomorrow.  Playboy used to like having his sheath cleaned.  Either my skills have deteriorated or Pluto doesn't kink that way, but he doesn't enjoy the process.  Alas.

This afternoon I thought about trying to seamseal my tent, but the 59 promised degrees never showed up, and the wind was pretty unfriendly.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  How many people could there really be at a Maryland shelter in mid-March?  Will we really need a tent next weekend?