So my buddy has a mother who wanted to get back to her youth as she came into the mid-life crisis, and bought a small ranch with three horses. My buddy wanted to be a vet, and so what better way to get him some practical experience than letting him care for the horses and participate in all the vet stuff that needs to be done… Well, seeing as the best way to get to hang out with my friend was to help him with his chores so they get done faster, little baconbit often helped out with stuff going on at said little ranch.

Well, one of the horse facts of life is that they sometimes have foals. Interesting fact that you totally may not have realized, but for a mare (that’s a female horse) to throw a foal (that’s fancy talk for having a massive vaginal shit that is totally horrific), they need to be bred (in every pornographic meaning of that word…) by a stallion. So when the bacon bit showed up after school to help said buddy, there, cramming in by way of the eye orifice, is a picture of sin: a strangely old looking cowboy type with soapy hands getting very touchy feely with his stallion (cleaning is super important, because we’ve fucked horses so badly [okay… that was purposeful with the 'hole ‘rape’ thing] that it is incredibly easy for diseases to take root when horses copulate, so caring breeders and owners wash both the male and female parts very thoroughly first, and the mares have their tails bound so the individual hairs don’t stray from the main portion of the tail being held up and to the side… and sandpaper the poor horse dick), and the two mares tied up in the main open area of the barn.

Well, one way that mares have of showing their displeasure with a male trying to mount is to kick, which can kill the male. There are, or were, several videos you can find on youtube showing very expensive stallions becoming a very large problem to bury when that happens. So standard practice is to prepare and manage the mare, one part of which is keeping a halter on them and someone holding them in place so they can’t move forward and make room to kick out. Well, you can guess what job that bit of bacon got that day… I can still very clearly remember the way the poor mare acted when it was her turn to be bred. I made sure to never be around that particular time anymore, because of course they did the whole exercise once more a year or two later.