Déja vu all over again

If it's a beautiful fall Friday, it must be time to haul two equines to the vet for a little preventive maintenance.  Today it was Hank and Lyle's turn.  (Click here for the George and Alan version.)

Lyle knew something was up the minute he settled into the trailer (which I still hate but haven't found a different one yet, and that's still another story).

The 11 miles out to the highway was the usual bumpy, teeth-rattling ordeal.  I really don't mind it unless I'm hauling the horse trailer, and then I hate it.  I stopped when we finally reached the pavement to make sure my precious cargo and tires were intact.  Poor Hank was shaking like a leaf, so I let him rest awhile, then assured him the next 80 miles would be smooth sailing.  I hope he understands that the awful road is the sacrifice we must make for living our perfect life in the middle of nowhere.

We made it safely to the clinic in Albuquerque's north valley, despite the bazillion tourists in town for the annual balloon fiesta, and the boys settled in to their temporary accommodations. Lyle did a few jaw exercises to get ready for what was to come.

Every year, Hank and Lyle get their teeth checked.  If there are any sharp points or edges or signs of uneven wear, then the vet floats them.  Such a gentle word for such an invasive procedure.  Lyle had several sharp edges on his molars, so our favorite vet sedated him, then went to work.

Be grateful that there is no audio track for this post.  Just imagine the sound of a giant rasp grinding away against enamel.

Take a good look at the vet's left hand in the next picture.  Go ahead...click on it if you dare.

Yes, that's Lyle's tongue he's got a hold of.  Imagine if your dentist did that when your tongue got in the way!

Now it's Hank's turn.  He had only one tooth that needed a little work, so the vet decided he would try to do it without sedating him.

Is it weird to take pictures of your horse at the vet? Don't answer that.  It's a blogging thing. 

Hank was a real champ and handled the procedure without the benefit of drugs.

Lyle was still seeing pretty colors and sleeping it off.  Wait...what are those vet techs doing on the other side of Hank?  Why are they kneeling on the floor?  What could they be looking at?

Oh, the indignity...our favorite vet went into teaching mode and was giving a detailed play-by-play to the two student techs on "cleaning the preputial sheath."  Though I had performed this lovely little chore myself in the spring, I wasn't convinced I had done a good enough job, so I let the professional handle it.  Literally.

I told Hank it was all in the name of science, but I'm not sure he was buying it.