All I want to do is de-worm my horse

We arrived at the country store with only three minutes to closing time so our chances of scoring horse wormer were not good. ‘Leave it to me. Don’t you dare say a word,’ I told the builder boyfriend, who has form in this particular shop, where he is wanted for crimes against worming bureaucracy.

I should explain, for those who don’t own horses: buying a horse wormer is more difficult than scoring crack. I don’t know about crack, of course, but I’m assuming it’s not straightforward. In any case, buying a wormer has to be more complicated because I get the impression people buy crack all the time whereas for everyone I know in the horse world it’s murder buying wormers.

You can buy them on the internet no problem, but if you are old fashioned enough to try to buy one in person, then you are in for a baffling process of interrogation. You must prove to the lady behind the counter that the horse you are buying the wormer for is not drastically sick, underweight, overweight, carrying a very heavy worm burden or a very light worm burden. In fact, it’s hard to get the worm burden right for the purposes of being allowed to buy a tube of wormer.

I always humour the lady and tell her what she wants to hear. But the last time we went into this shop the builder b wanted wormers for his cobs, and he was a little less than persuasive in his application.

‘Hello, I’d like two Equest Pramox please,’ said he like a grinning fool, as the lady behind the counter stood unflinching before him, scowl implacable, arms folded.

‘Hmm,’ she said. And she reached beneath the counter and brought out the hallowed book of worming.