(One more passage from my current journal)
March 9, 2017
Dewey has been caked with mud for the past few days. The mud layer finally dried out enough that I decided to groom him when I was outside doing morning chores.
Dewey was out in the pasture. I was using a steel curry comb, working on his large butt. Both of my shoulders are very painful and immobile this morning.
"Dewey," I told him, "I think from now on I'm going to have to stand on a stool when I groom you." I reached as far as my arm would go, which wasn't far. "So, I'm sorry but this is going to be kind of a half-assed job."