My mare had a colt. I named him Dhatu Senu after a fifteenth century Sri Lankian king I read about in a National Geographic.

Dhatu put his nose in a porcupine. Horses do that from time to time because a walking porcupine kinda sounds like someone shaking a grain pan. My Aunt came over and gave him a slobber shot. His eyes turned glassy and his legs got wobbly as he got stoned. Then my Mom and my Aunt pulled the quills out with a pair of pliers.