Thursday, March 3, 2016
The Pics I Thought I'd Never Send...
FACT: Amy is not a fan of dick pics.
I bet you're scratching your head and wondering how in the hell this will circle around to something about horses. Don't worry, we'll get there.
This is the story in a nutshell (BWHAHAHAHA! Sorry. Had to do it.): RJ, the big bay the kids ride, hurt his hock. As a result I have to cold hose him, wrap the hock, and apply a standing bandage to that leg every day. Which means I'm spending a lot of time in the general vicinity of his man bits. It's not that I'm staring at them, mind you, but, well, they're there!
Anyway, one night I was wrapping RJ's boo-boo and I happened to glance up. His nether-region looked a bit more prominent than usual, but again, it's not like I spend time staring at it so I wasn't really sure. So I went back to the wrapping, glancing up at his sheath every now and then. Here's a bit of the internal monologue running through my head:
"Geez, that looks big. Oh Good Gawd, I'm checking out my horse's junk. GACK!. No seriously, that doesn't look right. He doesn't seem uncomfortable, though. Hang on, is the right side larger than the left side? Is that normal for him? How the heck would I know that? It's not like I've measured the damn thing!"
At this point I'd decided that it did look bigger than normal and was trying to figure out next steps. Should I call the barn manager or the vet, or both? Then I realized that either would be likely to ask for more information, such as if there was heat or if the swelling was hard to the touch, for example.
"RJ, don't take this the wrong way, but Mom needs to grope your grapes for a second." RJ turned and raised an eyebrow at me as I palpated his package, but didn't give any indication that he felt violated in any way.
More internal monologue: "OK, it's not painful. That's good. It's warm, but not hot. It's firm, but not hard. Good grief, I sound like I'm buying a damn melon!"
I decided to reach out to the barn manager first. Before I pressed the call button it occurred to me that describing what I was seeing would not be as effective as showing her. Moments later I was under RJ's belly with my phone and telling his boy-parts to say cheese. (Note: If you ever find yourself in this position, do yourself a favor and click the flash on first. Makes a difference. You're welcome.)
I sent her a couple photos with a text that went something like this: "I never thought I'd be sending anyone pictures like these. I'm not that girl. But do you think RJ's sheath looks swollen? And does the one side look bigger than the other?"
Can you imagine sitting at home and getting a text like that? Zoinks.
So that's how I wound up sending my first (and last, God willing) dick pics.
(FYI: Apparently it's not uncommon for a gelding's sheath to swell while he's on stall rest. You learn something new every day!)