Rain + Mud + Sand =

The rain washed all the ice away so we could go out on the side of the road and gallop!  We've been stranded indoors long enough for that to sound like a wonderful idea despite the fact that it was pouring down rain.  When we got back inside I was so itchy.  The water was streaming down my legs and felt creepy in my coat.  My considerate owner decided to let me take care of that my way instead of giving me a hot bath and a warm, fuzzy blanket like a human would think was appropriate.

I feel so much better.  And I've dressed myself up with new markings.

My people made some rather unflattering comparisons about some of them.

This is not my first experience with being rained on and having to dry off with sand.

This marking is a rather common occurrence.  Spiffy huh?

My Friend Levi

I am teaching my friend Levi the English methods of horsekeeping.  Scrub harder Levi!

Yes, that's it!  Look at that little hand go!

And seeing my "happy lip" Levi asked if I would like some snuff put in it.  What is "snuff"?

Editor's Note:  Little Levi kindly removed his hat and set it on the ground because each time it bobbed into William's peripheral vision he jumped a little!

Air Conditioning

 

She clipped my chest and sides so I won't sweat.  I admit it feels better not to sweat, but I'm afraid to look in the mirror.  Is it bad?   It is isn't it?

Oooo my ear itches.

Happy Feet!

I got my shoes back on yesterday and my feets feel SO much better!

I even got to go for a run down the road!

Whoopee!

Oh No! My Feets! Part 2

I have a major hang nail. Don't you hate hang nails? Try walking on one.

Remember back in August when my feet were hurting? Oh No! My Feets! (part 1 as it turns out. Who knew.) We weren't really sure what the problem was as it was rather vague and I just felt generally uncomfortable. Well, a month or two later, we spotted a definitive answer. Even though my soreness was mild, and there was little physical evidence, and no particular spot could be pinpointed with poking or prodding or hoof testers... the light finally dawned. There was an abcess that worked it's way up and out at my coronary band. It took a few months for the edges of the crack of the "exit wound" to dry and curl and become more evident as it grew down my hoof wall.

Here is a photo from the other blog entry.

Everything looks OK, but if you magnify it and look, you can see the evidence. Riiiiiight there....

When it grew about half an inch down the wall, the mechanical forces of me standing on it caved it a just a bit and it became a ridge. Brita just watched it. We knew when it reached the clinch line it would become an issue. My shoes were pulled for the winter like usual and we waited.

Last week, the edge was really curled and beginning to crack downward (better than upward) at the ends. So Brita got out the nippers and trimmed the edge so it wouldn't catch on anything and wouldn't be funneling mud. What she found was a sizable void behind the wall which would be the site of the original abcess. You can't really see the depth of the hole, but she says you could almost fit a whole chapstick in there, whatever that is.

You can see that the front end of the crack is on target with an old clinch hole. We run the risk of a tear out there.

Thankfully the back edge is well away from the soft tender part of my heel because you can see below that it has cracked through the weight bearing surface into my sole. It flexes when I walk and is now to be considered a bonafide hangnail. My podiatrist has been called, and he will be coming soon to make a recommendation on how best to minimise the inevitable.

Oh No! My Feets!

You know that all this hot dry weather and hard ground had to take it's toll eventually...

**Sigh**

My feets hurt


The ground has been like concrete. And the road crew spread rocks on my jogging path. So I have been a little tender footed lately. Not lame, but very short and careful. I pick my way around the rocks and trot uneven on hard ground. My farrier came and looked and said he found a "nasty black spot". I wish I could have seen, but it was on the bottom near my toe. Yup, that's where it hurts.

So Brita ordered some Magic Goo which she spread in my feet. When I put my foot down, is squished out the back. Now I know how people feel when they walk barefoot in mud and it squished between their toes. Ewwwwww......

She patted sawdust on the bottom, and wrapped my hooves to keep me from tracking it all over the barn. Don't my toes look fancy?

They're my Magic shoes.

I feel so sporty!

Spring Cleaning

It's time to get this itchy winter coat off. I diligently work on rolling it off every day, but it helps to have a personal assistant to help with those hard to reach places. Especially my back. Oooo yeah, that's the spot.

Yup, get a stool and let's work on that spot properly.

A little to the right. No, the left... MY left.

Then we break out the power tools. The Dirt Devil and I have come to terms. Unlike our first meeting.

That rotary brush really smooths things out. But sometimes it tickles a bit.

I still don't like to come face to face with it.

But everything goes well since I am such a brave critter,

and in the end I get a peanut.

And a nose Smooch.

Casual Friday

Have you ever had one of those days when you just couldn't be troubled to get all spiffed up? And you didn't want to waste any time on the nonessentials when there were more important things to be done?

Brita has finally stopped interfereing with my glorious mud spa routine. After all, I'm just going to have to re-do it after she leaves. The first couple of years, it was all primping and blanketing. My clothes were laundered once a week, and my tail wash washed and fluffed. Now, the clothes reside cozily in the tack trunk all fluffy and clean smelling and only come out when I'm feeling icky and shivery. I'm coated from head to toe in two inches of muck, Brita only carves out a clean spot where the saddle goes. Sometimes it takes awhile to work out compromises so that everyone gets what they want.

The Mud Spas and the Aftermath

I have been spa~ing it in the mud. I am so happy with my messes. First I apply a primer coat, then a base coat, and finally a finish coat. Sometimes I wear mud pies on my rump. It's very flattering.

Brita attacks it with a shedding blade. Can you see all the dust flying? She even puts on a dustproof-hairproof suit.

Then she measures the pile to see how well she did. This one was 3 inches deep and a hoof pick wide.

This is how I look with the mud removed, half an hour later. Still not clean by any stretch of the imagination, but at least Brita isn't ashamed to be seen in public with me, and my dapples show through.

Really, it couldn't have been too bad... see how clean my saddle pad was? Mom even turned it over to see if the expected dirt was hiding on the other side. The key is I did my trot work and hills and didn't break a sweat. I am getting fit quite fast. what does Brita think I do all day? Sit around? Nope, I DO stuff.

We even found a little green grass. It wasn't much but oh it was so good!

Afterwards, when Brita left, I went out and repainted my blank canvas! I can't waste all this beautiful mud!

A lovely Autumn ride... from the rider's perspective

I have taken W.P. Grey's computer away for the day.... new keyboard...I'm afraid he will get mud on it.

Yesterday the awful cold, wet, snowy weather we have been suffering since last Thursday finally broke. Today was the second beautiful day in a row. I was unable to get to the barn yesterday, so I was really looking forward to a ride today. I even snuck out of the office 15 minutes early. Who wouldn't? It is 65 degrees, clear blue sky, sun shining through the golden autumn leaves... perfect.

I ride on my lunch "hour", which means time is of essence. It generally stretches to a lunch "hour and a half", but in that amount of time, I can change and drive to the barn (8 minutes), dust off Grey, tack up (10 minutes) and ride for at least half an hour (1 mile in any direction, and back). Then, basic grooming and wipe tack (another half hour), check his water bucket and hay bag (4 minutes), rush back to the office to clean up, change and get back to my desk.

Mom tries to make sure he gets turned out to "bounce" in the morning on the days I am expected. This is really appreciated, because although I consider him to be well trained and highly cooperative, he still has his moments and "bounce time" is very important, especially if he hasn't been ridden in a week.

As I drove towards the barn I saw Grey out in the pipe corral in the hayfield. He looked pretty grungy and I remembered Mom said yesterday he had coated himself pretty well. I met Mom on the porch and she said she had just turned him out a bit ago, but he was very fussy about going out into the mud.

When I went to get him, THIS is what I found...

I really don't think the photo properly conveys what a swamp monster he was. He made it worse by crowding me and tasting me as if he thought I didn't mind getting mud, dust and grass slobber on my clean polo.

From the time I got my first pony (35 years ago next month) I have clung to the romantic side of horse back riding. I take pride in my horse and my equipment. I do not go riding in old jeans and dirty tee shirts. I believe that a proper grooming takes an hour and does not include shampoo. Stalls should be cleaned thoroughly and deeply bedded. Blankets should be plaid wool and changed regularly. When I think about riding, I picture myself perfectly turned out, cantering along a bridle path on a fine horse with well oiled leather and shiny buckles. And my busy Career Girl schedule does not allow time to deal with THIS....

I weighed my options. I could put him back in his stall and pretend he doesn't belong to me... spend my time with weanling Ace (who was clean). Devote my hour to a proper text book grooming. Get the hose. Scrape off the worst, and enjoy the day. I opted to scrape off the worst.

With a towel and a shedding blade I removed most of the chunks, went over the saddle area and girth with a stiff brush and decided to skip both picking out his hooves ...

and soiling a clean pair of splint boots. I had a dusty saddle pad from last week in the laundry pile, so we used that. I tried again with the towel to de-muck his head before putting on the clean bridle, and off we went.

It really was a beautiful day for a ride. We saw a blue bird, and chipmunks skittered busily through the yellow leaves storing acorns for the winter. We were even besieged by Lady Bugs. I barely noticed the horse beneath me was still encrusted in mud.

When we returned, most of the mud had dried enough to brush out. His furry elbows remained wet and there was a chunk of something hanging from his throat latch. But the steaming towel trick did go a long ways towards removing the worst of the stains. There is still a beige murkiness to the left side of his head and elbow. I put a clean halter on him, double bagged the soggy one and put it in my bridle bag with the bridle and lathered girth to take home for cleaning.

Mom did her part to restore some civilization to the day by having a snack ready when we got back. She brought out fresh apple cider in a decanter on ice along with a plate of cookies, and she and I had a little party at the picnic table under the maple tree in it's golden autumn splendor while a mostly clean Grey horse munched happily at his hay bag. My romantic notions are still intact.

Ppppttttthhhhhhhhh!

Back to Nature

The best part about my new outdoor horizons is that I can get back to nature...

(Editor's Note: ... was this really necessary?)



Oh my, this is really bad. Pr'aps I did go a trifle too far.

I believe I smell something other than dirt.

In my excitement, I may have forgotten to shake off. I think there is vegetation still growing in this pile.

My Shopping List

I can always tell when Brita's credit card cycle has renewed and it's time to go shopping again. She walks around the barn shaking bottles of fly spray and linament and making lists. I can't make a list, but I can give some subtle hints. I'd like.....

A new feed dish...

And a new Fly Mask....

This one was a little clingy. So, I de-clinged it.

My World is Expanding

Lately, a lot of things have been changing in my life. For one thing, I have become an accomplished road horse, and my territory has expanded for as much as a mile in several directions. I am brave enough to go down new roads, and into new fields. I have bravely marched past barking dogs, lawnmowers, golf carts, bicycles, "For Sale" signs, and ponds. This past weekend we went more than four miles. We galloped in fields and up and down hills. I came home very sweaty but very satisfied with myself. The only thing I have yet to conquer is motor cycles. I haven't passed one face to face yet, but twice I have seen one in a distance, and I have noticed that they look and sound different from the vehicles that usually go past. I always stop and look, even when they are behind me and a quarter of a mile away. Bicycles are a little surprising because they sneak up silently. Another thing that I notice from a distance is wildflowers. At first I didn't know what they were. Up until now, the earth has been mostly brown or green. Bright splashes of color are very interesting, and I always crane my neck and put a little extra spiff into my trot. The wildflowers and I mutually admire each other for the flash and brilliance we bring into the world.

But, most importantly, Brita finally talked Mom into turning me loose like a real horse so I can have a life on the days she doesn't make it to the barn. Some days I wait and wait in the indoor arena or my stall hoping to go outside and enjoy the weather or some tender grass. Now Mom trusts me enough to let me out in one of the outdoor areas all by myself. There are three. The outdoor arena is great for galloping (and rolling in the dirt),

but lousy for eating. There are two doors in the indoor arena that go to outside places. First is the small pipe corral. Someone left the door open, and I found that one myself. I used to be able to go out in that when I was younger, but I got too rambunctious. Now it is conveniently attached to the barn, so I can come and go as I please. Not much grass, but great sunshine and breezes.

The best one is the side hill between the indoor and outdoor arenas. That is where Brita always leads me for grass. Now Uncle Dad fenced it in so I can get my own grass. The ends have white tape across them. I went up to look at the tape to see if was something I could get around safely, and it BIT my soft grey nose. Ouch! How exceedingly rude! So, I stay away from the white tape. There is plenty to do in there.

There is grass, and a hill to climb, and windows to look in. I can go back inside in the shade if I want. But who would want to be inside when there is so much outside to explore. I'm not allowed out on the grassy hill without adult supervision. I am still so excited about the whole concept. Even after several hours, I am still busy and trotting everwhere I go. Sometimes I get fed up with the flies, and I trot back into the cool shady arena just because I can. But in a minute or two, I am trotting back outside to see what I've missed.

The pipe corral, even though there is more dirt or mud than grass has the added advantage of neighbors. Lucy the Appaloosey wears her most fetching outfits, and tries to talk dirty to me.