Have you ever had a bad hair day? What a silly question. We all have days where we wake up and our hair just doesn’t want to co-operate. Nothing worse than a cowlick (of course in my case it would be a horselick, but let’s not split hairs).
Much to my chagrin, yesterday I had the worst possible hair day imaginable. I hope my tale will provide some comfort to those currently suffering from some form of coiffure catastrophe.
My human and I were busy preparing for our latest performance (check out my post from a few weeks ago on how to mentally prepare your human for competition), when I had the shock of my life. My human had been wasting time fiddling around with my mane for some reason (Lord knows what she was doing, she likes to dilly-dally), when I began to have the strange sensation that there was something, or several somethings, perched on my neck. I became quite disconcerted, fearing that perhaps a gang of nasty flesh-eating creatures (see Fig. 1 below) were about to launch an attack. The worst was that I could not see what was sitting there, and I naturally went into survival mode (if you’ve read any of my previous posts you know I like to be prepared for all eventualities).
I had to take action; can you blame me? I assert that anyone in such a predicament could only react thusly: I began to (very) violently shake my head, in hopes of dislodging the unwanted visitors from their convenient perch. I nearly fell over as a result of my efforts, to no avail. Even more alarmingly, my human seemed unaware or ignorant of the imminent danger. I somehow had to warn her. I therefore began (unsuccessfully) half rearing and kicking out, in hopes of getting her attention. I continued this process for several minutes, while my human looked on in disbelief, muttering profanities (sometimes she can be quite unreasonable).
My energy was waning, and my efforts were in vain, however I noticed that these creatures had neither moved nor bitten. I reluctantly decided to take a pause from my attempted insecticide (I thought maybe I had stunned them with all the commotion).
As it turned out, the creatures were nothing but little balls of my own mane (see Fig. 2 below), which are apparently required for competition as part of some sort of foolish homage to tradition. I still say it is wisest to err on the side of caution in any such situation. One can never be too careful!