The three seasons of a Moose
For Moose, the year is divided into three seasons.
…and then, my least favorite of them all…
Yeah, around here “shed” is a season worthy of note. It’s the season where people start asking me if I own huskies or malamutes or Akitas or other large, white, hairy dogs.
It wasn’t quite so bad last time I owned him and he was a darker gray, but now that he’s pretty much a solid white, it’s ridiculous. I find hair everywhere! I’m not kidding you — every time I ride him, I spend at least ten minutes brushing him beforehand, and ten minutes brushing him afterwards, and when I’m done, I run my hand along his coat, and pull it away COVERED in loose hair.
I also don’t ever handle Moose in any clothes I’d like to wear in public (like to work or something like that) but still inevitably someone stops me at work and picks a white hair or two off of my shirt. Sigh.
I guess I should just be happy he’s shedding now — he used to wait until May to really start shedding, and then he’d take so long to shed out and the weather would be so warm that I’d give up and bodyclip him (which is a real pain in the behind, let me tell you.)
And honestly, I’m just so stinking happy that he’s back that I’ll take him, shedding or no shedding. I still haven’t gotten over just how lucky I am to have him back again — I really haven’t.
So I keep telling myself that another month or two and he’ll be back to the sleek, shiny, good-looking horse in that first picture. Someday soon, I’ll have a white horse again, instead of this dingy brownish-white one who sends clouds of hair flying every time he tosses his head.
But for now, I think I just need to wear lots of neutral colors and hope for the best.