Bacon Grease in Pin Hook: The Many Cures for Woody’s Scrape

I, Bernie Harberts, did not use generative AI to write or illustrate this article. Spell check and grammar check, yes. AI, no.

Everyone was so intent on medicating Woody I couldn’t get close to his scrape any more.

That scrape was turning into the biggest attraction.

He got it a few days earlier when he flipped upside down in a horse trailer crossing Core Creek. It was nothing serious; just some hair gone. No blood, no stitches. It was the equine equivalent of a scraped knuckle, a bit of bared mule hide.

Mile by mile, good intent by good intent, it grew into a disgusting mess.

It started with a base of purple Miracle Blu, a violet antiseptic wash that made Woody plunge and dance when Mike and I sloshed it on. We didn’t get much on the scrape but we sure dyed his hind leg a healthy shade of purple.

Then came Bob and the Corona cream. Corona’s the texture of margarine and is supposed to grow hair. Woody jumped around like he didn’t mind the bald spot on his leg one bit but resented our intent.

To slow him down, I picked up his front leg. My thinking was that three legs would make it harder for him to scuttle around on while Bob slathered on the Corona.

Wrong.

Woody just used me as human prosthetic. Now he just hopped about with me bearing his weight as the new fourth leg. Of course we missed with the medication so now the inside of his stifle was slathered like a glutton’s toast.

By this time there was so much medicine on Woody’s leg it took on the appearance of a seriously injured limb. That really brought on the well-meaning.

Next came Elizabeth with a squirt of Dr. Naylor’s Blukote. She tried to hit the bald spot on Woody’s inner thigh by the light of a street light. He jumped. She painted him higher up his inseam than he appreciated.

By this time I was starting to feel sorry for Woody. It was time to start standing up for him. After all, it was a scrape that had never drawn blood.

He was being treated so much he’d taken to dancing every time I picked up his front leg so a stranger could spray a pet cure on the hind. It got to the point where I couldn’t pick out his front feet anymore.

I was beginning to suspect the cure was worse than the malady.

“Oh,” I told Elizabeth after her shot of purple missed, “he’s funny about that back leg.”

“Yeah, I see,” she told me.

As she turned for home, she gave me a Ziplock baggie labeled:
Pulvex Vet Ointment
For Woody
u u
u u

The next person I met sent me packing with a vial of castor oil. I was offered bacon grease in Pin Hook. Straight from the grill.

Finally the leg got so messy I decided to remove all the medical good intent. Just to see how the scrape was doing.

I got some WD-40 and wiped all the goop off his back leg.

A soft fuzz of new red hair was growing on the scrape. He was cured.

(Thanks Mike, Bob, Elizabeth and Rex for all your medicines! It was so good of you to share your remedies with us. As much as I kid about his treatments, I’m sure they helped his speedy recovery. Thanks again!)

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