Rosie Does Pink Nose Day

Never mind Red Nose Day, it's Pink Nose Day for Rosie. It's the time of year when that dreaded muzzle comes out of its box and onto the Rosie conk. Sadly March/April are her trigger months for laminitis, and having had this horrible disease twice, and been box rested for more than 18 months in total, she doesn't want to have it again.

Rosie's choices are stark - don't eat grass, or very little of it or die. Very simple really. It makes managing her a perpetual fight against nature, as Rosie loves grass. But it makes her tootsies so sore and one of these days she could have such a bad attack that it would be the bad lorry for Rosie as she won't recover. The pictures taken of her tootsies show that the bones in her hooves really don't like grass, and when they get upset, it causes her immense pain, and she has to stay in the stable, for months on end, with painkillers, and lots of bedding under her poor feet to make them less sore. The last time it happened, mum said it cost her almost £100 in getting lots of bedding to make what they call a deep litter, about 18 inches deep, so that Rosie was on all this nice soft wood shavings, that acts as a big cushion for her sore sore toes.

So she has choices to make - no muzzle and turned into what is currently Spencer's Naughty Paddock - this is a bare muddy paddock with no grass on it. When Spencer strays out of the special sheep field and comes into the stables looking for company, he is put in the naughty paddock until whatever time the next sheep feeding takes place - he then goes back following the feed bucket to his friends. He even spent an overnight in the naughty paddock, as after dinner, he jumped through the fence and came down to the barn to see if there was anything else to eat. Dim he is, he forgets about the loneliness of the naughty paddock until he is back in it again, then he remembers for about 48 hours, then forgets again.

This could be the Rosie Rescue paddock she could live in there with no muzzle and eat hay - boring, and it will get very muddy particularly if she and Spencer decide to charge around together. It is very small, but perfectly appointed with good views and a strong fence.

Another alternative is that an electric fenced small paddock is put in one of the donkey paddocks, so she can be in there and only have a little bit to eat of fresh grass and the fence gets moved every now and then. The disadvantage of this is it is a lot of work for mum and dad, having to keep moving the fence, and if the daft neddy decides to walk through it, jump over it or whatever and get into the lovely new grass, it could be curtains for her.

The current alternative is that she goes into the big field, as usual with the rest of us, but she wears the pink muzzle. She can run around and be free, and she can eat, but it slows her down a huge amount, so she gets very little grass, then she comes home at night and eats her hay and that tops her up. This is usually her preferred health care option though she doesn't like this pink muzzle at all.

It had to be a pink one as she learnt how to undo the black one, broke the straps and generally worked out how to lose it and it is very hard to find in a very big field....mum says the last time it got lost it took her over an hour to find it...so this very bright pink one should be easier at least.

Rosie spends a lot of time working out how to remove the muzzle - she can stand on the bit behind her chin and then raise her head and hope this undoes the velcro strap that goes behind her ears. She can get down and roll vigorously and hope that she can dislodge it.

There is a much easier way but we haven't told her yet. She could ask an obliging young donkey to grab the strap and pull it over her ears and off. Given my talents for undressing Ferguson and removing his rugs - whether he wants me to or not - taking Rosie's muzzle off would pose no difficulty whatsoever to an intelligent donkey like the Vodka. But it is much more fun to tease the silly girl, particularly as she came into MY stable tonight and tried to eat my treacly mineral lick - now that is completely out of order. At one stage Rosie, Aimee, Ferguson and I were all fighting for the mineral lick in my stable and Dad was trying very hard to get the raiding Rosie out of our stable. Of course a treacly sugary lick is also not good for Rosie's laminitis, it is almost the equine equivalent of death by chocolate.

Mum arrives, fixes Rosie with a look, clicks fingers and Rosie wanders off into her own stable. Mum says she is taking the Michael. But where do they take the Michael to? I am confused. Does he go on the bad lorry?