Here's Blessi after his teeth were floated. As he recovers
from sedation, he always reminds me of that happy, blissed out frat
brother.When I got home, the vet had sent me the following email "It was wonderful to visit with you and Mr Blessi today. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to provide his health care. He is a true joy!"
How does Mr. Blessi earn such kudos? By being a typical Icelandic.
The vet and assistant pulled up in their van. When the assistant pulled out the four foot long drawers in the back of the van looking for supplies, the gelding in the pasture next to Blessi bolted off as if he were saying "Those things are going to eat me." Blessi tried to move forward to investigate since there might be carrots in those puzzle boxes.
Meanwhile the vet pulled out the buckets and head rest which went rattle, clash, bang. The mare in the pasture on the other side zipped off. "Ah, it's the Spanish inquisition--run away!" Blessi really tried to convince me that he could find treats in those interesting items.
After the float, the vet did a sheath cleaning. The assistant and I got into a conversation. When we looked over, there was drunk Blessi standing in the corner of his shed all by himself--no cross ties and with the lead line tossed over his shoulder--as the vet was cleaning away.
That is the joy of Icelandics.
The vet and assistant pulled up in their van. When the assistant pulled out the four foot long drawers in the back of the van looking for supplies, the gelding in the pasture next to Blessi bolted off as if he were saying "Those things are going to eat me." Blessi tried to move forward to investigate since there might be carrots in those puzzle boxes.
Meanwhile the vet pulled out the buckets and head rest which went rattle, clash, bang. The mare in the pasture on the other side zipped off. "Ah, it's the Spanish inquisition--run away!" Blessi really tried to convince me that he could find treats in those interesting items.
After the float, the vet did a sheath cleaning. The assistant and I got into a conversation. When we looked over, there was drunk Blessi standing in the corner of his shed all by himself--no cross ties and with the lead line tossed over his shoulder--as the vet was cleaning away.
That is the joy of Icelandics.
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