Knockout

My baby is growing up!

The other day my son left school as usual. A girl in his class was running on the other side of the street, but couldn’t keep her eyes off my son. She ran smack dab into an electric post, knocking herself out. She was taken to the Cruz Roja (Red Cross) to be checked out.

Girls in the upper-class hover near my son during the lunch break. He’s busy minding his own business or horsing around with friends when the girls start with their “pst, pst” so that he looks in their direction.  This seems a bit rude in my opinion–sort of the equivalent of construction worker catcalls, but hey, maybe their mothers didn’t teach them any better.

The boys in my son’s class call him “Steroids” because of the muscles in his biceps. He doesn’t actually take steroids (as if I have to clarify that) but daily living in La Yacata makes sure he’s not a floppy string bean–which apparently is so much out of the norm these days that both boys and girls in his class (and in other grades) have noticed as you can see.

Here are some of  his daily exercises:

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Pumping iron

cam04405.jpgThe garafon lunge
cam04411.jpgBucket Stairmaster
cam04426.jpgGoat sprinting
cam04417.jpgHay bale lifts

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and a little parkour thrown in just for fun

And every now and then, an hour of moto pushing from Moroleon to La Yacata when the moto is descompuesta (broke down)

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It’s no wonder my son has become quite the ladykiller. By the way, the girl that knocked herself out was just fine. She recovered enough to go to the movies with the class and snagged the seat next to my son, goose egg on her forehead and all.

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Joey goes bananas

As the supports for roof needed to be in place for 21 days and the roof was for Joey’s stall, Joey couldn’t occupy it. (See Joey’s room remodel) So, Joey had to be moved. Shadow was tethered in the car parking/food storage area, and Joey was given her stall. It hardly seemed fair to Shadow, but I have mentioned that Joey is my husband’s consentido (favorite) right?

Anyway, Shadow’s stall is not as solidly constructed, nor as finished as Joey’s stall even though she is a full year older. And Joey, well, is Joey, a bit nervy. He’s not into change at all. So this new arrangement had him up in arms.

My husband said it’s because his testicles have dropped early. Not having any experience with male horses before Joey, I had to look this phenomenon up. Apparently, a male horse’s testicles will descend, one at a time at anywhere from 18 to 24 months of age. As Joey will be 2 in July, he seemed to fall in the normal range of development. However, all the men in La Yacata have made comments about Joey’s balls and offer their congratulations to my husband, as if he is responsible for the miraculous feat or something. I’m surprised my husband hasn’t been handing out cigars. Whatever!

No one made a big fuss when Shadow had her first estrus cycle a few months ago. In fact, my husband was annoyed that now he’d have to keep a better eye on her or any stray donkey or stallion would get her pregnant. Machoism!

Whatever the reason for Joey’s nervousness, he wasn’t happy in his new stall. He’s always been flighty like Spirit had been. My husband sold Spirit for that very reason, but won’t think of being parted from his precious Joey.

So here’s what happened.

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The laminas (corrugated metal sheets) didn’t quite reach the end of the roof

Since the roof and the remaining laminas did not quite reach, my husband wanted to extend the laminas just a bit so that they would overlap, keeping the rain from coming in the gap. He and my son were up on the roof doing just that. Joey, in Shadow’s stall, must have thought the sky was falling. He went berserk and tried to leap out of the stall. The gate was too high for escape, so he ended up impaling himself on a rebar.

My husband and son rushed down to administer first aid. The wound was deep, and my husband was sure he’d have to put Joey down. He went for Azul (the vet named Blue) to see if anything could be done. Azul stitched up the wound, saying that neither the heart nor blood vessels were damaged, but it was a bad injury.

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Joey’s wound

Before stitching over the cuero (skin), he mashed a banana up and inserted it into the whole. He said that the banana will help the skin scar faster. I couldn’t find much information on the use of banana in wounds, but he’s had more than 20 years experience working with horses, so I suppose he knows what he’s doing.

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It’s only water, Joey!

Joey had to be tethered so that he couldn’t lay down and rip out the stitches. He wasn’t happy about that. He was given penicillin and tetanus shots. My husband tried to wash the wound with mata de toro, but Joey wasn’t having any of that. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his wound or apply aloe as we did with Shadow. In fact, he managed to bite open his wound on several occasions even being tied.

He had to be untied to eat, but one of us had to be out with him while he ate to make sure he wasn’t biting his chest wound again. He took HOURS to eat–stopping every few minutes to glare at the watcher.

He couldn’t be tied outside as walking caused his wound to open again. He wouldn’t tolerate Shadow being outside either, so she was sentenced to prison as well, just so he would be calm.

We couldn’t go anywhere for weeks as Joey needed constant supervision. As soon as he thought no one was watching, he’d start in on the ropes. He managed to bite completely through one, tear his halter to pieces another time and pull hard enough to break a second rope. Each time he escaped, he bit his wound open again and bugged Shadow until we could herd him back in the stall. My husband had taken the offending door off the corral after it dared injure Joey. Really, it was exasperating.

At times, my husband despaired and said that if he didn’t heal up, he’d be sold to feed the lions at Los Areas Verdes. Then he said, if Joey did recover, he was selling both horses. Couldn’t he see that Joey was the problem here?

Joey did get better, despite it all and after about a month, he and Shadow were allowed out to graze again.

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Joey’s room remodel

Joey is my husband’s consentido (preferred son). Yes, he is equine and not human, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference to my husband. So since my son recently had a room remodel to honor his approaching adulthood (See Ladykiller’s room remodel), there was nothing to be done but give Joey a room remodel as well. Wouldn’t want to play favorites, you know.

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Off came the lamina (corrugated tin) roof. My husband wanted a cement roof for Joey, under the guise of adding a side porch for me and my container garden. He didn’t fool me one bit. I knew who he was appeasing here.

It was a smaller section than our last roof project (See Up on the roof that nearly wasn’t), only measuring 7 meters by 5 meters, and my husband was pretty sure that he could have it done over Easter break. Once he gets an idea in his head, there is no stopping him, so I didn’t even try.

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He did the castillos (supports) and set up the wood by himself. The day of the actual roof building he didn’t even wait until I arrived to help out.

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The coladores (roofers) were a younger lot than the last crew and apparently weren’t drinkers. I had asked if I needed to bring some caguamas (beer) because the lack of alcohol had been an issue with the last roof building and was told no. I asked if I should bring some carnitas (fried pig meat) or some other food for lunch for the workers. Again, my husband said no. Apparently, he had offered 150 pesos for the work plus lunch or 180 pesos and a soda. To a man, the workers chose the 180 pesos and a soda option.

So the work went smoothly with only one run for more sand to finish the job. The mixer worked just fine, we had enough nails for the ramp, no animals escaped and wrecked havoc. There was a small hitch when there was no tortilla paper to be found to roll the mota (marijuana), but they accepted a sheet of notebook paper and called it good. Hmm.

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Although it was a much smaller project than the last roof, it still was a full day’s work. After the cement was poured, there was the smoothing and tamping down, and finally the splashing of the water. I really couldn’t believe how uncomplicated it had been.

My husband is now making plans for a window for Joey and even talked about putting a tinaco (water storage container) on the roof for a shower for Joey.  Good grief!  Next, he’ll want me to make curtains and put down a rug!

Of course, something did go wrong.  Joey went bananas!

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