Shoes!

The farrier was supposed to be out yesterday morning, but had to reschedule for today. I went out yesterday anyway to groom him and see if his replacement birthday bit fit. I ran our favorite tack ho in circles about sizing and whatnot before ultimately deciding on ordering the same size (5") but a different style--instead of rubber, plain metal with a french link. Totes worked.

Shoes went back on today. NF opted to replace the aluminum with a light steel in hopes that the bigger nails would hold the shoe more securely. If that doesn't work, he said he's going to have to go to glue ons. Delicate princess toes, I hate you. I miss my Red Pony's barefoot Mustang feet. NF also said something's got to change with turnout. BM and I discussed the options. If he can keep his fucking bell boots on that'd be ideal, but we all know how well that worked last summer (read: it didn't). Second option is to change him to a smaller, flatter paddock with one other calm turnout buddy when another boarder leaves at the end of the month. The final option that I really hope we don't have to resort to is switching him back to day turnout so he only goes out for 7hrs a day instead of 17hrs. Bell boots got coated in chili powder for tonight. Hopefully that works.

"please don't eat us, bobby!"

I put the jump saddle on for a short ride mostly so I could play with the new bit. He could have cared less about the bit or the three days he had off and spent in his stall. We tooled around at an easy w/t and then did some flying changes in the canter. They're soooo ridiculously easy when I'm in half seat with a short stirrup. They're pretty much impossible in a dressage saddle. But that's just me being broken.

Sunny's mom stopped by the arena before heading into the barn to see if we wanted to play with Sunny's new toy--a hoola hoop. Bobby was like, "Is it edible? No? Not interested." S said she'd seen the trail class at the Expo have to do a turn on the forehand with the front feet inside the hoola hoop and she wanted to teach Sunny. She tossed it in the ring for us to play with, but Bobby wasn't feeling it. He'd stick one foot in, drag it back so it caught the hoola hoop, and then drag the hoola hoop backwards. Totally missed the exercise. I got off to try it on the ground.

"stupid tricks. i'm a fancy show horse."
right bobby. sure you are.

He did manage to do it once I was off, but he didn't think it was much fun. So then I decided to just go ahead and torture him with it.

"pretty sure i hear my dinner calling me. pretty sure that means
no more stupid hoola hoop."

I bopped him on the saddle and butt with it a few times and he completely ignored me so I whipped it over his head and across the arena frisbee style. Instead of following its path, he just turned his head to look at me with his patented "You're fucking stupid, lady" look. Point well taken, Robert. Back to the barn we go.