I'll tell you.
Sunday morning I met up with Sarah to check out Memphis's hoof that had a run-in with a clip on his shoe and was apparently spouting blood while I was enjoying the pleasures of SE PA. Poor dude was lame, but he'll live. He'll also be joining the barefoot bandwagon. Bobby was pleased to show him all the fun things you get to do while toughening up your tootsies.
You get to perfect your bow:
What? That's not exciting? Bobby disagrees:
You get to graze at choice spots around the barn you don't normally get to go:
|"stop making me pose and go back to picking apples off the tree for me."|
You get strange, quasi trims from your owner to help keep the chipping to a minimum:
|hinds. no real trimming done, just knocking off of the worst of raggedy edges.|
|fronts. should have taken a before picture of the RF. it looked like a triangle.|
Don't think that's particularly exciting either? It is when you're "rewarded for standing still" with the half a bag of peppermints you stole out of the grooming box and dumped in the puddle in the wash stall, effectively making them so sticky that the only choice was to eat them right then and there.
|about ten seconds before peppermint ambush. i was too annoyed to get the|
picture of them scattered EVERYWHERE.
Unfortunately, sometimes your owner does not find all this excitement enough for her thrill seeking self and she tacks you up and makes you cart her around the arena. Never fear. All you have to do is act like you've suddenly lost your foot (it doesn't matter which one) and you have no idea how to walk. When she calls you out on being completely sound in your unfortunate looking footwear both at the walk and trot on the longe, acquiesce to about five minutes of trotting, knowing that her attention span is short and she'll be happy with that. It's a bonus when she suddenly acts like she's lost her foot and you can hobble around together like friends.
If nothing else, at least she's not making you do this again any time soon:
Bobby Magee: A pimp's life.