I was grooming Dalton and noticed broken skin on his neck, and I immediately knew he had gotten into something…
And, as you do, while grabbing the salves and antiseptics, I ran through my mind all the possibilities…
(My mind…) “OK, well, I did open the gates to the upper fields but I haven’t even seen him up there… well maybe something scared him up there and he ran through something… I better go up there right away and check it out… but there’s nothing up there that would make this kind of mark… hey, wait a minute… that’s not a mark, it is a BITE!! Wait… did a dog get him? No, too high… a mountain lion? No, no claw marks… and his flymask, where is his flymask?!… Uh…Oh, now I remember… I opened the gate between Finn/Missy Miss & Mo… Ahhh, the plot thickens. These are teeth marks of an equine! This is either Finn or Mo… and by the height, I think know this was MO!”
I started doctoring Dalton’s wounds and thought… Wait a minute… these are BITES!
The spots were all the same shape… six marks – exactly like the front teeth of an equine.
MY PHOTO INVESTIGATION
Immediately, I went into the field between Finn/Missy Miss & Mo and Dalton. Yes, I had opened the gate and yes, there were FIVE FENCE BOARDS BROKEN. Oy. And Aha! There is Dalton’s flymask, on the ground in the middle.
So, someone, probably Finn, got Dalton by the flymask, held him, and let Mo bite Dalton all over (they don’t like other boys eyeing their mare).
I’m sure Dalton ran up and down the fence, everyone breaking the boards as they went.
I shut the gate to the in-between pasture and will have the guys fix the fences next time they come.
At least no one got hurt.
…Except the fences.
Here we have Finn, Missy Miss and Mo, innocently standing under their shelter.
I call to them and say, “Hey, how did all of these fences break, eh?!” They came over, through the in-between pasture with the newly opened gate, to explain…
It wasn’t us!! (Mo, Missy Miss and Finn)
Dalton, with fresh cream on all of his wounds, begged to differ.
This is just one of the broken fence boards. Besides not wanting them to break any more fences, these were sharp and I needed them out of that pasture.
As I console Dalton, Mo, Missy Miss and Finn inspect their handiwork.
After I secured the Terrible Trio back into their paddock, I found Dalton’s fly mask – on their side of the fence. Clearly, someone had hold of his fly mask and someone else took advantage and bit Dalton all over. Case closed.