Check out the grass!
I am once again going to try and attach a photo. It’s been 85 degrees here for most of March (I seriously hope that is not a harbinger of weather to come. I mean, 85 in March? What’s August going to be like? It was already 114 last year, and both Bess (the horse) and I got heat stroke). So, the pasture is in about a month early. Looks good. Horses are gaining weight (Red is stuck in the round pen and she is aaannngggrrryyyyy! I keep telling her, “It beats laminitis,” but she doesn’t care).
J3 is on vacation this week. Hope she’s having fun. My little vacation is next month: Rolex! I’m going to pop out to the KY Horse Park and visit our people out there and watch some of the best horses and riders in the world compete over some of the prettiest terrain. If Dave survives dressage (I don’t think it’s really his cup of tea. In fact, he’ll probably go in search of beer and let me watch that part alone), he’ll have fun with the cross country and show jumping.
This morning Alexis and I practiced wrapping knees, hocks, tails, and I showed her how to bandage a foot (Jeff thoughtfully threw a shoe). I’m a little out of practice myself, thank dog. If I were really, really good at it, it would mean we’ve had tons of horses with lacerations to knees and hocks that were so bad they required stall time and bandaging. Not so. We’ve been lucky. The usual bites and scrapes one sees when horses live in a herd, but nothing a little corona won’t fix in a jiffy. I am, however, exceptionally good at wrapping hooves after last year’s bout with the Abscess God. Hope that dude’s on vacation this year, or decided to pick on someone else.
And I had yet another request for a foxhunting gelding yesterday. Sara is hunting something down. Hopefully she will find a couple of nice, sound boys to send my way. I don’t know what people have against mares. I think they are fun. Take a bit more patience, maybe, and they sometimes keep score on the fairness meter, but in a tight spot they always come through. And generally speaking, they have a great sense of self preservation. I really like that part, because if I’m on a horse that desperately wants to stay balanced and on its feet, chances are very good I won’t be falling off. Apparently, the fact that the ground gets harder every year isn’t due to global warming, as I had previously thought, but a direct result of the aging process. Specifically MY aging process. A pox on the person who so ungraciously pointed that out! Bah.