I know they teach it differently in school, but the real way to define stress starts with an "A" and ends with an "a". And has orangish hair.

On Saturday, after Edgar's first test, the drug tester came up to Amanda to test Edgar. I didn't know they tested at Bronze shows, but it is nice to see our fees put to work. So, no big deal, the tester got to stand in his stall waiting for him to pee, and Amanda and I got to get a break from Edgar trying to destroy his stall.

After he dutifully peed in the cup, the tester left, and I mentioned to Amanda "I hope none of his supplements test" to which she replied "no, I checked them all out, and they are all labeled as "will not test." They are vitamins, joint supplements, and a cough aid, so it seemed likely they would be legal, so all was good.

Then, on Sunday night, at a little after 9pm...I get this call "Camphor TESTS". Only it was said with more exclamation points and bolder letters.

The assumption on my part was immediately that if she is calling me to let me know Camphor tests, then it must be in one of his supplements, presumably his cough aid. I tried the best I could to end the conversation politely and not blurt out what I was really thinking which was basically a much less polite version of:

Frick.

Having a horse test positive for something like Camphor, would not be the end of the world, but Amanda and I would have to miss a large portion of the show season and get our names published on the "bad" list. This, understandably, caused me some stress, and left me trying to detangle myself from the blanket I had contentedly wrapped myself in. I then printed off the banned substances list, wedged on my shoes, and ran to the barn.

The cough aid does not have Camphor in it. Panic averted. Which really should never have been started as Amanda had checked that the things she gave her horse wouldn't test...but her stupid boyfriend made her worry and check the list of banned things and that one jumped out at her.

So, the moral of the story? Boys suck.

Karen