CHASITY’S CHALLENGES: Chasity’s Week Two Bath: 4-10-20
It was the end of March when Chasity first arrived and the weather was much too cold to even think about giving her a bath, even with our indoor facility. Even though the equines come in to us with Health Certificates and a Coggins Test, we are still very careful about keeping them in quarantine for 30 days and bathing them for hygiene purposes. Chasity would be no exception.
Finally on April 10, it was warm enough to bath her. The water at the outside hitch rail would be too cold, so I opted to bath her in the Tack Barn where there was warm water. Chasity was about to experience her first bath at the Lucky Three Ranch! I began with the lower part of her front legs, then moved to her forehead and worked my way down her neck after spreading a line of shampoo across the full length of her body. I did not use the shampoo on her face.
Ordinarily, I do not use soap during the yearly bathing, but since she had come from another location, I used my Tres Semme Breakage Defense shampoo. It is not as drying as some shampoos and does not require any conditioning. As I sprayed her with water, the suds came up and I followed the sudsy water with my shedding blade to eradicate the dirt from her body as she was rinsed.
As I scraped her with the shedding blade, I just kept the water flowing until no more dirt and suds came from each area. Chasity was not exactly thrilled and moved into me and up against the hitch rail where I could not reach her. I just adjusted the spray to more power and aimed it at her flanks until she moved over. Then I adjusted the spray to be lighter and less penetrating again.
Once she was willing to stand still, I was able to check some questionable spots on her body. He chest had completely healed from the old bug bites, but I did notice a bald spot on her right hind leg. It didn’t look like much and I thought it would probably fill in with hair as her good hygiene was maintained. If need be, I would treat that with Neosporin, too. It works well on most things like this that donkeys seem to get quite often, including “jack sores.”
After the right side was all done, she was rewarded for being a good girl! After chewing her reward of crimped oats, we resumed first with her forehead on the left side.
I worked my way down the left side the same way as I had done on the right side…covered the length of her body with shampoo, followed by water and scraping the suds and dirt from her body with the shedding blade.
She was much better on this side! I sprayed her teats clean and she stood like a trooper!
She now knew what to expect and was amply rewarded for her efforts!
I had prepared to dry her with a hair dryer, but it was so warm, I decided to try her on the hotwalker. I wasn’t sure about how she would take it, but I took it slow, tied her with the chain looped through the ring on her halter and not under her chin. She walked right off as if she had done it all her life!
She dried much more quickly than she would have had I used the hair dryer! I was so proud of Chasity! I think she is finally beginning to trust us!!!
The Roman fort at Weissenburg, called Biriciana in ancient times, is a former Roman Ala castellum, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site located near the Upper Germanic-Rhaetian Limes. 
Pierre Bovier tied the rope around the iron bar that follows the wall; with the back of his hand he hit his mule on the back, as a sign of his friendship. He pulled a crackling piece of hay out of the oat sack, took his two cheeses under his arms and walked away. It was still winter up there, no relief was to be seen anywhere; dirty snow, half melted from the wind, covered the whole slope with a lifeless blanket. Perhaps the young grain’s stalks were already trembling beneath him. The grass sounded like the call of spring. The roots trembled in the frosty earth. Impatience ate the souls of the people. But the plain shone in the bright spring light. Pierre Bovier saw spring from his village Euseigne. Every day he watched for a long time the triangle of sap-laden earth between the sloping columns of the valley entrance. He would have loved to dig his working hands into the humid cold of the revived vines. He stretched his head, he looked and looked. Then he couldn’t stand it any longer. He could no longer stay in this house surrounded by death. He took his mule and he went away. So he went down to the valley and pulled his animal by the reins. The mule stretched his neck towards spring. Two small cheeses hung in the oat sack. He 
would sell this cheese, he would pay his debts to the bank. Two twenty-franc notes, a few glasses of wine to drink with one he meets in the bustling city before climbing back up to his village. This is our life. The reins are stretched, the mule hurries forward. Now Pierre Bovier is looking for a place in the city to put up his cheese. It is wonderfully warm. The sun makes its bright spots dance on the roadsides, the light stops on the groups of women, hangs on the yellow wicker baskets dangling from its arms. In the fishmonger’s display the sun delicately silvered the scales, sticking tinsel gold into the fur of the thick rabbits that are destined for the cooker. “What is the cheese?” “Twenty-five francs a piece.” The deal was closed, and Pierre Bovier walked straight to the bank, pulled out of his pocket a green, dirty envelope; paid. When he was back on the street he suddenly felt a strong thirst at the bottom of his throat and he decided, to satisfy it immediately.
It struck eleven o’clock. The landlady refused them the last half liter. So they had no choice but to leave. They rose and were outraged at this heartless creature, that had placed them in front of the door, stumbled between the tables, swayed down the street in all its width, finally trusted the walls, and when the walls stopped, they supported each other’s disturbed balance. They would have liked to drink another glass, equalize the other glasses. But all the doors were closed. So they had to do without, for better or for worse, and they did it by scolding the bad times. They decided to return home, the one from Ayent to Ayent and Pierre Bovier to Euseigne. “Where do you have your mule?” “There he is, next to yours.” The mules waited in the cool night. Swaying, the fathers (lads) gave each other their hands and then loosened their animals. It was no small thing for them to get on the saddle. After all, Ayent’s succeeded first, after some unsuccessful attempts. And the mule rode off with the hasty step of a hungry animal. Euseigne, for his part, managed to climb the animal after many attempts and violations of the second commandment. A lucky fool shortened the way home. Almost at the same time, the two companions felt their animals stop. We have arrived, said the mule’s frozen gestures. “Where am I,” stammered the one from Ayent, for he no longer knew his barn. “But I am in Ayent,” the one from Euseigne suddenly sobered. After they had confused the radical doctrine with the conservative, then their glasses, they had now also confused their mules. But the mules had not been wrong in their way home.