Have you ever seen a horse with a thermometer in its mouth? The reason why I'm asking you this is because last week, Tom Doyle, president of Palmetto Carriage Co., contacted me about working a shift for him. I just assumed I'd be riding along with a driver and giving a tour. You know, some personal insight from my many years in the Lowcountry.

Me: (To a tour group) "We're now turning down Market Street. Steeped in history, from the Civil War to the site of my unfortunate arrest three years ago, it's full of great stories. Which leads me to my first question: Does anybody know what 'solicitation' means?"

But I couldn't have been further off. It turns out Tom thought it would be better if I did a little "behind-the-scenes" work. And, oh, how appropriate his wording was. Instead of giving tours, I'd be checking "core temperatures" of the animals before and after each tour to make sure they weren't overheating.

Which reminds me, if you see a thermometer sitting around a barn, next to a box of surgical gloves and Vaseline, DO NOT put it in your mouth.

Alan Hawes
The Post and Courier

Bryce Donovan gets ready to take a temperature reading of a mule at Palmetto Carriage Company.

When I arrived at the big red barn just off Market Street downtown, Doyle's youngest son, Ben, took me to a table to show me the rectal thermometer we'd be using. (I want to thank him for not saying, "I believe you two have already met.") He carried it over to one of the mules to demonstrate the proper technique for taking the animal's temperature. While doing this, he outlined some important steps to follow:

1. Don't sneak up on the animal.

2. Maintain contact while you're doing it.

3. Offer the animal a cigarette.

4. Afterward, promise — even if you're lying through your teeth — you'll "call later."

Once I was sufficiently nauseated from repeated demonstrations, I asked Ben if we could try it on one of the horses. Or at least give me five minutes to catch my breath.

When it finally was my turn to do it myself, it was painfully evident I hadn't been paying close enough attention to Ben's instructions.

Me: "How's this?"

Ben: "Bryce, you put the thermometer in your mouth again."

Me: (Embarrassed) "How about now?"

Ben: "OK, that's just gross. The thermometer is for the animal."

Eventually I got it right, and while I worked, I asked Ben some questions.

Q: What is the normal temperature for a mule or horse?

A: Between 100 and 101 degrees Fahrenheit.

Q: How many tour companies check their animals' temperatures this often?

A: According to Ben, they're the only one in the United States, as far as he knows.

Q: What's with all the roosters and hens?

A: They give the place a barn atmosphere.

Q: Are they a nuisance?

A: "Nah. The only problem is them humping in front of the kids," Ben said. "But on the bright side, it's over in just eight seconds."

Q: Eight seconds is fast?

A: What?

Once I was done checking the temps of Adam and Eve, Sugar and Spice, and Hit and Run, I looked around to make sure nobody had seen me during the entire series of humiliating events. (I'm pretty sure the mules were thinking the same thing.) As I washed my hands, I asked Ben two last questions:

Q: Where does your dad live?

A: Why?

Q: I just wanted to stop by and personally thank him for letting me do this. You mind if I borrow the thermometer?