Very Bad Day Avoided

The Pony Horse

Today was almost a very bad day. Well, actually it was a bad day anyway because a yearling colt reared up and struck me in the head, smashing my nose, which has now swollen twice its normal size.  (I’m typing this during 20-minute breaks between icings.)  But it was almost worse than that.

I almost lost The Precious, my phone
.  It isn’t a BlackBerry, it isn’t an i-phone, it doesn’t have a slide-out keyboard or a touchscreen.  It’s a Samsung Rugby, and it is the BEST PHONE EVER.  It takes pictures, video, music, all that standard modern stuff.  It allows me to check my email and browse most websites.  Oh, and it makes phone calls, too!

The email and internet, though, is what I value most.  It spares me from boring moments throughout the day, like waiting for the vet/farrier.  It allows me to stay current on news and sports scores, even in far-reaching locales.  I can read and respond to emails instantly, which John appreciates (among others).  Suffice to say, I am addicted to it.  It’s like phone crack.

So earlier today, I was hacking the Pony Horse.  He’s a fat, furry QH that I use for beginner lessons and ponying other horses.  He’s completely bombproof, exceedingly lazy, and at the moment, extremely fat.  With the slight break in weather, it’s time for him to find his inner Richard Simmons (I think he ate him) and hit the hills.  As with all rides, I had my cell phone with me.  We were hacking ambling out in the back country, when my phone alerted me I had an email.  I whipped out the ol’ phone, signed in to email only to find more spam to delete.  While the phone was out, I decided I may as well check EN and see what John had to say this morning.

Unfortunately, at this very moment, fat Pony Horse arrived at a tiny creek crossing.  No big deal, he’s cool with water.  He also likes to drink it…and he ripped the reins down jostling My Precious from my desperate grasp.  Like a slow-motion cartoon, swiping at thin air, I helplessly watched my phone land face-up in 3″ of muddy running water.  I vaulted off Fatty faster than a Pony Clubber at Games Rally, scooped up The Precious and sent a desperate survival prayer heavenward.  The previous Precious (an LG), suffered an untimely death drowning in a water bucket, so I knew the utter fatality of what I had witnessed. 

I quickly (with wet, cold fingers) rescued the phone, shook it off, and removed the battery.  To my extreme relief, the battery and internal pieces were dry.  I tried not to get my hopes up, yet.  I had a pair of soft, thin deerskin gloves in my pocket, which can be fashioned into a semi-effective chamois cloth.  The buttons leaked water, and there was no telling if it had seeped into the screen.  I cursed the thirsty Fatty (looking at me stupidly with water dribbling from his chin), shoved the Precious pieces into my pocket, remounted and continued the hack. 

A few hills later, I was too impatient to wait for home, and put the phone back together (Fatty on autopilot).  Crossed my fingers, held my breath, and turned it on… it worked!!  It had a little short-term memory damage (insisted a text was unread, despite my reading and responding to it six hours prior), but since then it has been back to its old Precious self.  I’m not usually big into product-endorsement, but this Rugby phone is truly a horse-person’s dream item.  It is extremely well-sealed, around the edges and the battery, which must have spared it a near-certain liquid death.  I can also attest to its ability to withstand significant shock, as it has been dropped with regularity, including an unfortunate slip from the 20′ hayloft onto the paved barn aisle.  Nary a scratch!  It isn’t invincible, though…it probably would not survive the death of Nokia Phone 1 (stepped on by shod hoof) or Motorola Phone 2 (fell out while on the tractor mowing, shredded to tiny pieces).  But for day-to-day hazards, it has held up remarkably well.

What can we learn from this story?  Don’t browse EN while riding!  Or, at least, not while riding through creeks.  See John, it’s all your fault.

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