White Plastic Bags

In our county there is a 'ban' on plastic grocery bags. If you want one at the store, any store, there is a .5 cent purchase price for each bag. I use these bags, a lot, because we have two dogs and a cat. I NEED these bags to clean up the 'little woods' at the house and the kitty litter box.

These bags are getting scarce. I've been lucky from time to time to pick them out of the recycle bin at the local strip shopping center. Sometimes the bin is empty. Curses! Some have holes in the bottom; I like to 'double-bag' the kitty litter, too.

Back in the day, when we were boarding the boys and KC was three, there was a trail challenge at the barn. Lots of the boarders were participating and we were very involved in this fun day. We even built, at our own expense, a couple of the challenges.

One of the challenges was taking a white plastic bag off of the fence post. Sounds simple. One evening practicing for this event I moved KC to the corner post, reached out to pluck the bag off the fence and he did an awesome, text-book roll back, threw his head down and proceeded to buck like a bronc. I was catching some air, big time, as was he.

I executed an unscheduled dismount onto the sandy arena floor, landing pretty much on my chest. I then had gritty dirt in my mouth. He continued to buck, high and frequently. He got so high that he did not land on his feet, he landed on his side. I felt the earth tremble in my chest. He laid there for a couple, few seconds and I thought maybe I had killed my little pony and broken my saddle, too.

I remained on the ground, on my stomach, he got up and continued on his terror-filled quest to leave the white plastic bag as quickly as possible. He ran the rest of the length of the arena, spotted the blue tarp on the ground in the corner and stood on that.

I got up, and realized my leg really hurt, putting my full weight on it was painful, but I was determined to suck it up and disavow any injury. There were spectators and they were already totally freaked out. I hate witnesses!

I walked towards my little man and he walked off the blue tarp back to me. He was trembling and blowing. How could I be mad at him? I set him up, he panicked, acted like a horse, but was coming back to me for comfort. I gave him a hug and he hung his head. I waited for him to air up. My shin hurt, big time. I was spitting sand out of my mouth.

After this incident I worked really hard with the white plastic bag issue. I tied the bag to a stick and rubbed him all over, waving it around, and like that. He accepted this eventually, but seeing one blowing on the side of the road or trail was enough to create panic - in him and in me.

During this time at the boarding barn our friend lived in the barn, too. Her front door was above the stalls and her home's staircase was right next to KC's stall. One night she came home from the grocers with white plastic bags and KC must have been sleeping. He spooked into the iron 'gossip' gate of his stall. He hit it so hard he bent the gate, which then would not reach the latch and he got a large double welt on his chest. The barn manager took the gate down, had to run it over with his dually, flattening it enough to span the opening. It is still bowed, but not as badly. Needless to say he didn't do that again!

I tried a different tact: Any treat (carrots, apples, Nutter-Butters, candy, cookies, pretzels, corn silks and husks, etc.) were introduced from a white plastic bag. At that time they were plentiful, I had a hundred of them. And I made a big, rattly show of producing his favorite treats out of the scary white plastic bags.

Fast forward to Sunday's ride at Swatara State Park. I had two apples in a white plastic bag. This bag was in the dressing room of the trailer. I pulled one apple out, cut it into eighths with my folding Buck knife. I gave KC several pieces, shared a couple of the pieces with Skip on the other side of the trailer. When I came back around KC had reached the white plastic bag and had it in his mouth, crushing the other apple, most of the bag was on its way down his throat. YIKES!!

I squealed to Tom for help, who didn't seem to be concerned, I pried KC's mouth open, like you would a dog, and pulled and pulled the white plastic bag from him. I didn't want to tear it and risk any of the bag going down the hatch. The apple, still inside the bag, was crushed flat.

Was my desensitizing him to white plastic bags successful? Did I create a brave monster? You be the judge.