Castor is a castorastrophe when it comes to keeping himself and his surroundings clean. It seems like all the other horses in the stable shit in one corner, creating a prudish-like pile of manure in one spot, making their owners proud and much less onset than I am by manual labor when arriving at the stable. But not Castor. Castor is a hulk beyond compare. When you get there, late in the afternoon, tired and not really motivated to shovel manure, you are met by a indescribable mess of straw and you know what. It is amazing what 1500 pounds of eqine puberty can amass in one night, and in so many places.
Now I don't know if you know what mucking out entails. First, you get a pitchfork and a broom (large). Then you start sifting the dry straw from wet, placing the re-usable straw in one corner and throwing out the used. You go methodically through the box (about 16X14 feet) until everything's sorted out. Then you take a hike around the stable to the barn (in pitch-black darkness, of course) and pick out a couple of bales of straw, trip of course over some large iron farm-tool and then go back with the straw to the stable, untie the bale and strew the straw (possible name for a hard rock band) in the clean box.
Then Castor comes in, turns around a couple of times, messing up your work and then proceeds to pee about 10 quarts of urine all over the fresh straw.
That's what it's all about. Fun, huh?
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