not sure how this warranted broken internet, those fucks.
I've kept Bobby in his hackamore since our jump school Saturday since he was so fabuloso flatting in it. Apparently EN agreed it was a good idea. He's going quietly and softly in it, and working over his back correctly. If he wants to rebuild his topline in his hackamore instead of battling with a bit, I'm totally down. It's far more enjoyable for both of us. He might need his teeth done, so I'll have the vet check them tomorrow when she comes to pull blood for the Lyme test.
I'm beginning to wonder if maybe it is just foot soreness. I've been riding in the indoor the past few times because it's been cold and super windy, and he's hardly taken a bad step. Still a little "catch", almost, in his stride when we first start trotting, but only for a dozen or so strides. By the time we've gotten to the canter, he's completely fine.
In fact, today he was a bit of a fire breathing dragon at the canter. I got him to slow down and focus by doing canter-halt-canter transitions. He was a total boss, especially from the halt to the canter. There was literally no step between the two--just standing there squarely and then cantering off. We finished with a few lengthenings to channel the forward energy productively.
|chilling while i closed the gate after a ride last week.|
I touched up his toes when we were done before taking him up to the paddock myself. He was more ouchy than he was a week ago walking up the hill. So....foot soreness returning? But why now? Another abscess brewing? Psh, I don't fucking know. At least I can cross Lyme off the list one way or another.
|all by himself.|
|hello, cute pony!!|
Obviously you guys have missed out on a lot of exciting things. I can't help that my horse leads such a thrilling life.
Speaking of thrilling? Here's a video of Bobby chilling in his stall waiting to get tacked up while I wandered around the barn:
He's allowed to stick his head and neck out, but he's not allowed to set a foot into the aisle. He hangs out with the door wide open hoping random passersby will feed him cookies. He's a special sort of special.
|watching me feed the barn kitties in the tack room.|