Have You Been To The Dentist Lately?

Coming from a family of dentists I am constantly reminded of how important it is to take care of your teeth. Regular dental visits, daily brushing and flossing, and sugar free gum all help to ensure that our teeth stay healthy and strong for life. My brother-in-law, our resident periodontist, helps to ensure that the entire neighborhood has good teeth. Forget the Milky Ways and Snickers on Halloween. His trick-or-treaters definitely get the trick...tooth brushes! The word's gotten out yet Dr. R still wonders why no one rings his doorbell on October 31st anymore.

I wonder what Dr. R would say if he knew that my horse eats marshmallow peeps and peppermint candies and sugar cubes and oh so many more sticky sweet treats on a fairly regular basis? I mean really, what fun is it having a horse if you can't indulge her in her very favorite activity...eating! I know that when I arrive at the barn the sweet nickering sound uttered by my horse is her way of saying how happy she is to see me...right? It has nothing to do with the treats that she knows are hidden in my jacket pocket... yeah right!

So while my horse may not brush her teeth on a daily basis (I can't quite figure out how her hoof would hold the toothbrush but if anyone has any ideas it would make a great "Shark Tank" episode!) every spring the vet arrives for the annual tooth floating session. As all horse owners know, a horse's upper jaw is wider than it's lower jaw. Because a horse chews from side to side, sharp points form on the outside of the upper molars and the inside of the lower molars. To keep a horse from cutting it's tongue or cheek, the molars must be filed down using a tool called a float. The float is simply a rasp attached to a long handle.

Sounds simple enough. Not! 20 years ago it was simple, at least it seemed that way to me. The veterinarian arrived, opened the horse's mouth, inserted the float, filed away and voila...smooth teeth! Now the tooth floating process is a production of great magnitude, I kid you not.

The veterinarian arrives, with an assistant, an abundance of power tools and a speculum which at first glance (and second and third for that matter) looks like something Hannibal Lecter wore in "The Silence of the Lambs". Regardless of the promise from the horse owner that "My horse is such a good boy. He'll stand quietly for you'', the protocol now is to sedate the horse so needles filled with an anesthetic are readily available. Veterinarians these days...they're no fools!

So it begins. My horse is sedated, her head is hung in a sling to hold it up during the procedure, the speculum is inserted into her mouth and cranked wide open, power floats are plugged in and revved up and a headlight is strapped to the vets forehead so he can see where he is going (this makes sense!). It doesn't seem to phase the vet that my horse is wobbly and swaying side to side from the sedative (I suppose that's what the assistant is for...to catch her if she falls) as he inserts the power float into my horse's mouth. Smoke, water, teeth bits and who knows what other interesting bits of matter start flying everywhere and sedated or not, my horse's eyes grow wider and wider as each painfully long second passes. It is not a pretty sight. It is I who needs the sedation during this procedure. Do you think my horse would share with me?

So the procedure ends. Power floats are turned off and the peaceful quiet we all seek at the barn returns. The speculum (aka torture device) is removed from my horse's mouth and her head released from the sling. The vet keeps his headlight on though, not sure what that's all about, guess he's grown attached to it. In an attempt to lead my horse back to her stall to let the sedative wear off, the assistant tells her, "left right, left right." It's not easy to remember which hoof comes first when you're loopy!

I'm pretty sure the teeth floating procedure is more upsetting for me than it is for my horse. After a few sleepy hours in her stall, she awakens bright eyed, smooth-teethed and raring to go. When turned back outside in her paddock, she runs and bucks and rolls and bucks some more and runs faster. It is at this point that I secretly and guiltily wish that the vet had left me just a little bit of that sedative. I'd only use it on really windy days...really.