A good day. And not just the weather.
Today was a pretty good day. We combined the hacking out and the ring work. Usually we do one or the other, but today we used our hack as a warm up for the ring work. It worked especially well for Brown, who always needs a second cup of coffee to get moving. After about a half hour, she suddenly wakes up and starts moving of her own accord, but by that time I’m too tired from kicking like hell to keep her on her feet and moving that I can’t do anymore. But she is forward out of the ring, so this time we rode around Montpelier (past the scary stump, killer chickens and that horrible mat Patrick stretched across the road, not to mention strange horses galloping around the track) and then went to the ring to jump our crossrails. Huge success! She not only jumped well, but landed cantering (as opposed to the inert heap she can sometimes manage) AND actually cantered up to and over crossrails! Hooray! Miss “I’ve got to stop and think” has learned to move and think! At a CANTER even! Okay, a lot of exclamation points, but I’m really happy with her.
And Dave remembered his lesson from last week, to whit: Yes, you do have back feet. He walked and trotted the ground poles in an organized manner, so I put him to crossrails. Perfect. Even he landed cantering. So the consensus is in: everyone at the barn has back feet! Except the humans, of course. Not certain I could manage four, so I do have sympathy for the equines.
I’ve been thinking of bringing Taxi up to the barn to see if she is sound. She is sooooo darling, everybody loves her. She’s a pocket pony. She loves people. She tried to get into the back of my truck. Of course, that would mean four mares in work, and I can’t seem to interest anyone in the girls. Bah. But she is really cute.
Blue Ridge is going to bring all the interns to the farm next time they have a really slow day. They are going to check the whole herd for teeth (okay, yes, the horses have teeth. I meant bad teeth, for floating). And then it will be Torture Intern Day (this must be like vet hazing), as the poor newbies will have to come back and float the teeth. Good practice. Too bad I don’t still have the most inappropriately named Sunny Puff. He’d give those newbies a run for their money. They’d be telling Sunny Puff stories to their grandchildren, I’m sure. If I said right, sunny’d go left. If I said forward, Sunny’d go backwards. He’d stomp feet for fun, and tried to whallop the last vet that put that big hunk of metal in his mouth. Ornary bast – uh, cranky devil.
Anyway, this ought to be fun. I’ll give you an update. 😉