Mr. Clean

“How does he stay so clean?” My friend asked as she walked by where I was grooming Ransom in the barn aisle way. I flicked some specks of dirt off with a soft brush and smiled. She was the third person this week to ask me the same question.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Even after a roll in the sand a few days ago, his coat was sleek. No manure stains marred the white blanket pattern over his rump, and no dust clouded the air when I patted him. Despite his nice hygiene habits, I’d been waiting for a warm day to give him a bath – his first bath since I bought him over a year ago. I’d hosed him off after sweaty rides, but never shampooed and scrubbed.

Finally a hot day arrived. Ransom danced around in the cross ties as the cold stream of water splashed his legs, and he clamped his tail when I soaked his back. The brown suds revealed that he wasn’t as clean as he looked. I used a rag for his face, but he still tossed his nose in the air and scrunched his nostrils in his best attempt to evade the wipe-down. I could feel the water dripping down my arm as I struggled to reach him.

After scraping the excess water out of his coat, I stepped back to admire my handiwork as he dried. His coat shimmered. A spritz of show sheen and he was as soft as a baby. Now he truly deserved the title, “Mr. Clean.”