Horseshoe's blog: Dental work...profit or loss?

<p>Dental work? Yikes!</p>
<p>I used to be so afraid of going to the dentist. Dentists were one of my 4 biggest fears, right up there with judges, heights, and used car salesmen. Fortunately I've met and befriended a local judge, nice guy, too. And nowadays I know much more about cars so the salesmen don't bother me much. As for dentists and my fear of heights those still give me the willies.</p>
<p>I don’t care to go to the dentist. They're expensive and I've often run out of money half way through their projected gameplan for me. But I admit, sometimes ya gotta bite the bullet. Then again, I’ve seen where a lack of dental work became a benefit.</p>
<p>Why, I remember the time my old mule, SidArthur, a meditative sort, lost one of his major teeth. It was one of those big ones, right out in front. Being hugely bucktoothed all his life it was quite a different sight to see. I’ve no doubt that to SidArthur it must've been an entirely new feeling. It didn't seem to bother him though, he still smiled and had that happy look in his eyes. On an even better note at some point in time he learned to spit through that toothless hole in the front of his mouth, doing so with dead-eye aim! He became so adept at it people for miles around would come to see his talent.</p>
<p>Yeh, I remember the days during fly season it was a sight to behold to see his big ol' tail swishing flies away from his backside while the north end of him could perform a high-powered spit, finely tuned, and knock a fly off a barn rafter from 20 paces! I sold a lot of tickets to the locals to come see that show.</p>
<p><strong>Notice to all members of ATP</strong>:</p>
<p>If you run out of dental-work money just leave a toothless gap in the front of your mouth. I'll give you employment here in the great State of North Carolina and provide you fair wages and a private stall in exchange for your newfound talent. (*grin)</p>
<p>Best to you and yours!</p>
<p>Keep smiling!</p>
<p>.............................</p>
<p>Reminiscing comes easy: I miss good ol' Sid. He was the only mule I ever had that could carry on a conversation with me. I remember those days when we'd be working the fields. He'd be walking along in front of me pulling a plow, me hanging onto the wooden handles following along. I often talked to myself, often talked to him. Sometimes I'd ask, "Sid, how many ears of corn you want for supper tonight?" His front end never said much but his back end would always reply, "Pheww". Seems to me he always replied when the wind was blowing my way....</p>

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