After Monty, I promised my children that if Rugby became so sick that he couldn't be made well, that they would get to see him and say goodbye beforehand. So tonight we headed over to the grocery store for a bag of baby peeled carrots and went to see him. Rugby was still managing to stand and eating but so very thin and unsteady on his hind end. He seemed happy to see us and came over at the sound of the carrot bag crinkling.
My children hugged their big friend and he enjoyed their attention and all the baby carrots. I didn't want to try taking him out to graze as I was afraid of him falling. My boys got choked up but didn't cry, they gave Rugby carrots and then frisked off to run around the farm and jump the show jumps like they usually do. Kids have a resiliency that I envy.
I had brought my scissors to snip off some switches of his tail to have a keepsake made. To keep him busy, I gave him another flake of hay and put some baby carrots on top. He busied himself with his treat and I snipped off the first swatch of hair. After rubber banding the first clipping together I went in to get another. Again I offered him another handful of baby carrots. As I bent over to put them on the hay next to his mouth, I heard a loud, "RRRRipp!" and suddenly was aware of a breeze across my tushie.
My old faithful jeans, the most faded, loose and comfy, those of many long trail rides and days spent at the barn decided it was their time too, and simply split open across my rear along the pocket!
I slowly reached around and touched my butt, realized my undies were now on display and I laughed like a banshee. Rugby looked up at me as if I had lost it completely. My kids came running, took one look at mom's pink cotton drawers peeking out of her jeans and howled with laughter. My friend, who's old horse who is Rugby's closest horsey buddy was grooming him outside the stall so he could be with his friend one last time, looked over at my laughter and I turned to flash her and she gasped and cracked up.
Ah, the fates may be cruel but God has a sense of humor. My husband came in to see what all the noise was about and I flashed him, too. He smiled his evil little smile and said, "only you!" Then he chuckled. After that, the mood was lighter. I did tuck the grocery bag into my belt to have some butt coverage. It was the best I could do since my kids kept singing the Spongebob "I ripped my pants" song as long as it was in plain sight!
We gave our Big Guy another hug and left him to peacefully eat his hay. And though I was greatful to my husband for the cold beer we shared when we got home, my heart was lifted more by the simple act of my barn jeans heaving their sigh of relief
(I put one of my silky equestrian scarves inside the opening so the rip would be more visible in this picture.)