Of Hard Heads and Not-So-Miniature Horses
Our baby girl, our OEB (Old English Bulldog) Dixie, has the hardest head of anyone I know. Stubborn Taureans, bulls, and helmeted football players be damned. This is THE most stubborn and thick-skulled gal I know.
She has recently made the acquaintance of our BFF’s miniature horse Honey. For some reason she is obsessed with Honey’s rectum.
Now, just to be clear, yes Honey is a miniature horse. BUT, it seems that she is the biggest damn miniature horse around. She grew too much and is just a bit too tall to compete in miniature horse competitions. I guess that makes her a giant dwarf? I’m not really sure how that works, only what I’ve been told from BFF. But, I digress.
Whenever the two of them are in the same vicinity Dixie will always be found with her big, wrinkled head up underneath Honey’s long, beautiful tail. What does she do under there??
Well, she sniffs…A LOT; she licks her inner thighs; she sniffs her tummy; and she tries to get her little, dolphin-like, blowhole of a nose up as close to her rectum as is physically possible with her stubby bowlegs and even shorter neck.
Does Honey appreciate all of this doting attention?
OH NO, she does not. No sirree, Bob.
How does Honey tolerate all of this persistent attention?
Well, at first she was pretty patient. Then she began to swing her long neck around and put a hard eye on Dixie.
Did Dixie notice? Did she seem concerned? NOPE, oblivious.
We all watched from a distance and had our own running commentary of their interaction. I felt like Marv Albert while trying to interpret their interspecies discourse to my seven-year-old daughter.
In my efforts to gently discourage Dixie from overwhelming Honey, and completely invading her personal space while in her own scent-induced oblivion, I would give her sing-song praise every time she turned her head or body away from Honey. This was my way of gently encouraging Dixie to increase her intermittent pauses and hopefully walk away from the little horse and turn her attention to more pressing matters like playing with one of the kids or coming to me for a favorite wrinkled head rub.
Alas, it was not to be. When Honey would begin to feel her tolerance reaching its max she would raise a rear leg and splay it for the dog to see that she was ready to kick at any time.
Poor Dixie. She really CAN be quite intelligent. It just happens that when her little bulldog brain is fixated on any visceral instinct I swear her IQ drops in half.
All was fine until Honey decided to run. Suddenly she was prey to Dixie’s predator. Off they went.
This happened a few times, over the course of a few days, until the predictable, inevitable conclusion that resulted in Dixie being kicked squarely in the eyebrow by a fleeing Honey.
I didn’t see it. I heard it from across the acreage. A quick, high-pitched whine from Dixie and suddenly she was no longer in hot pursuit. The next thing I knew she was skulking back to me, ears laid back flat against her huge skull, with a small gash in the middle of a large lump above her left eye.
“That’ll learn ya!” was my first thought.
“Aw, my POOR wittle BABY!” was my second thought.
My third was laughter.
Dang stupid bulldog.
I wonder how long it’ll be before she pesters Honey’s hind end again??