Let me get this straight š Your treatment plan is:
livestock dewormer,
moonshine with peppermints,
a heating blanket set to āsurface of the sun,ā
and, if all else fails, a steroid shot youāre scared of.
Cowgirl, thatās not a remedy. Thatās a country song waiting to happen.
As a doctor, Iāve reviewed your case, and Iām officially diagnosing you as āa horse that thinks sheās a personā š“ Unfortunately, your insurance doesnāt cover dewormer, and neither does your liver.
Hereās my counteroffer: Tylenol, water, a light blanket, and a nap. I know it sounds boring compared to moonshine and ivermectin, but boring gets you to Calera. Dewormer gets you a very confusing night and possibly a visit from Poison Control.
And refusing to search your vet box for a thermometer because youād ārather croak overā? Maāam, thatās the most stubborn sentence ever written š but this is so so you. Call your mom, steal Jon Austinās thermometer back and report your temperature to Dr. Pepper Beard immediately.
Feel better, Sassy Sue. Youāre a non-stop machine, but even machines run better on the right fuel un better on the right fuel. And moonshine isnāt it š.
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