Tuesday, August 9, 2011

What is faster...flying or swimming to England? Part one

Holy wow
Before I begin may I please just express my frustration. I purchased a brand new Dell computer especially for this trip...and I kid you not as I was on the plane over, telling Richard about my bad luck with computers and showing him my new shiny laptop....I get an error about my bloody hard drive. Heads will roll. Until I fix that batboy, I am borrowing sine ads iPad....but my typing skills aren't very good and I'm too lazy and tired to edit. Good luck decoding My Mac language,

After many an hor, waiting and waiting and waiting....... We are in england!!

I headed back to vetport around 2030 set to see if tater wanted to eat a snack before his long journey, as I knew he wouldn't be eating for a while. When I arrived at the barn via Paul, tater was happily dozing off, and glad for some company.
Around 2145, Paul left to go pick up richard ..the inflight groom. At first, being as stubborn as I am, thought "why do they need another groom? I'm professional, I got this." but my attitude quickly changed. This experience is not something you can prepare for, you just have to live it.
..I was especially appreciative when Richard gave me a shankydeedooly (I don't remember what the exact term was, but it's those bit shank things that go in their mouths that brace horses use to be led around) anyway he hads me it, and I looked at him puzzled...I mean I have a chain...and a mean elbow to the neck maneuver,,, but Richard quickly explains that if I loose him at the airport I have about ten minutes to catch him before they just shoot him. The whole. Airport would have to be shutdown. Etcetc horror story enter here.

No pressure right? As I stared down the endless ramp between my lorry where Tate stood and the cargo palate where Tate was bunking for the night. (ok it was like 15 feet.)
Thankfully knowing Tate, even at his frenchest princessey moments he is still pretty manageable...but I used that badboy anyway. How would that conversation even start? Sorry Sinead, Tate got loose on the Tarmac and they sniper rifled his ass because RyanAir had to lAnd....awkwarrdddd.

Alas, I'm getting ahead of myself. As it were, technically we haven't even left the vet port.
When everyone arrived to pick up Tate...the vet gave him the all clear and 'sealed' him in the lorry at 2300. The official seal was really a leadrope strewn across the lorry entrance with a metal clamp put on. .....very official.

The shippers were pretty great and definitely helpful. Shoutout to Scott and...well I don't remember the other guys name, but I did hear his whole life story on the hour drive to Newark international airport. I mean, I can tell you about his baby momma, his bicycle, his son, how he convinced his son to tell his mom that he sleeps in his car so she doesn't find his house, and my favorite part of the conversation...his opinion on gay marriage. I will spare you the details, but he was very entertaining and kept me awake.

Richard and Scott rode in the back with Tate. At first I thought they were joking....but they weren't. It went a little like this:
Scott: "you riding in the back?"
Me:"he he he..." (gathers my purse and my laptop....heads to front seat........ Notices there is only one seat and they really were serious.......... Pauses. ........Panics. ........Sighs and gets into air conditioning)
Yep...strike one for the new girl.

End part one

1 comment:

  1. Shankdeedooly = a chifney!

    I bought one when I was in the UK browsing tack shops in Newmarket. Best $15 I ever spent! I had a young horse that would get violent if you put a chain over her nose but pop the chifney in her mouth and you have perfect control. Glad it wasn't really necessary for Tate and good luck on your adventures!