Doc's Diatribe: Well Adjusted

One day a while back my Mrs. Owner took me to an arena for a riding lesson. I was feeling kinda lazy that day and just didn't want to walk in a 'cadenced' walk the way the lesson lady and my Mrs. Owner wanted me to. I just lumbered along. Ho hum. This is dumb. The lesson lady suggested that my Mrs. Owner might want to use spurs, or carry a crop....or, she commented, "maybe the horse is hurting." Well, I guess my Mrs. Owner has been worried that maybe I did hurt myself when I had my driving accident. So, she decided to take me to get adjusted. 

You know, I'm a pretty steady fellow. I don't get upset by much. I thought I was well adjusted...not like Pippin, who is as squirrely as they come!

My Mrs. Owner took me out of my paddock and then fussed at me about going into the big white box. I don't like the big white box. It makes a lot of noise. It wiggles under my feet. It worries me to hear all of the strange noises whirring by. I tried to tell my Mrs. Owner not to get into the box. I would not follow her. I would not put my foot up into the big white box. Unh uh. Not me. I backed up. My Mrs. Owner came out of the box. She asked me to go around in circles. I like going around in circles. My Mrs. Owner walked into the box again. Unh uh. Not me. I was asked to go around in more circles. Circles aren't that bad. Then I was asked to step into the box, again! Unh uh. No way, José. Never. More circles. Doesn't my Mrs. Owner think it is silly to have me go around and around and around? It does get a bit tiring. Well, you know, after doing this for a while I got tired of those circles. It seemed that if I was going to get any rest, I'd have to go stand in that box. That's what I finally did. I walked in there and stood. My Mrs. Owner made a big deal over me. She gave me treats. I felt better about being in the big white box.

We traveled up the bumpy road. We traveled down the turny road. We traveled on the fast road where you can hear all kinds of swishy noises.When we finally stopped and I got out of the box, there was a man I've never met. 

He isn't the cookie guy who trims my feet. 

He isn't the 'horse doctor guy who smells kinda scary'. 

And we weren't at the lesson place. 

Hmmm.... 

it looks like.... 

it must be.... 

Santa Claus!

So, Santa Claus watched me walk and trot. He said that my hips weren't even and one side was locked up. Locked up? The tack room gets locked up...but I don't see a lock on my  hips!

Santa Clause poked me here and there.

He prodded and he pushed.

He jerked my leg and he yanked on my tail!

I shook myself, beginning at the tip of my nose 

and working all the way down to my tail. 

Ohhh, that felt good!

........

With a nod of his head

And a twist to his lip

He pronounced me adjusted

As he patted my hip. 

He gathered his tools

Put them all in his sack,

And said that in a month

He wanted me to come back.

........

 Now I know what Santa Claus does when he isn't driving his sleigh.