|the dude knows how to rock a serious donald trump hairdo|
- More importantly, I finally defeated the skin funk that was taking over his leg and it's been clean and tight since.
- LOL, jk! Clean and tight except when he cut it on who the fuck knows what since he gets turned out in boots.
|"i feel as though you haven't paid enough attention to me lately."|
- But he remained sound, and all I did was spritz a little Blu-Kote on it.
- His socially impaired pasture mate turned cannibalistic, so he now goes out with a geriatric, crippled gelding who cannot physically attack him even if he tried. Which is embarrassing that my giant 10yo Thoroughbred can't stand up for himself to literally anyone.
- We canter now!
|he's too out of shape to not fall on his face without a lot of assistance, |
but it's still a canter.
Overall, no one's missed much. I didn't see the horse myself for a full week because I was out of town. We finally got back to work last Thursday.
Bobby came out as dope-tastic as ever. He rarely acknowledges long breaks between rides, and our w/t warm up was uneventful. Since I'd dragged Hubby out with me, I decided to go ahead and get a quick video of how the canter was looking. According to Vet's original schedule we've already passed the date we can start jumping, but he's lost so much butt muscle I don't think we're quite there yet.
Bobby stepped right into the canter and loped around like he hadn't missed a day. After a full lap of the ring and one circle, I brought him back to the trot. That's when Bobby started acting more like a horse coming back into work after a lot of time off.
I spent the rest of the very short ride having to do all of my downward transitions with the help of the arena fence. As in, I couldn't slow or stop my horse without stuffing his face into a solid obstacle. Yay, rehab!
|you get yesterday's flat pictures as text breaks because that's all i've got.|
He'd been going in his plain dee, and I thought for sure I could combat the power of Bobby on the forehand and not listening ever with the power of my own half halts and rock hard core muscles. Only, you know, I haven't been doing any work either, so those rock hard core muscles aren't actually rock hard. Or muscles at all, let's be honest.
While we're on the subject of nonexistent things, I rode the next day in my jump saddle with my stirrups jacked up to jumping height to start rebuilding my leg muscles. I'd planned to school in the ring, but there were two horses doing training rides, and I figured why bother with the ring when I finally have access to trails again. Bonus that my horse's own lackluster muscling could use some hill walking assistance.
Bobby plodded along outside like the good pack mule he is. We were out for half an hour before starting to head home. I threw in one last loop of the field we were in and decided that since my horse was feeling sound, sane, and we were only walking, I'd let him stroll over the 12" stack of log stumps.
Bobby did indeed just stroll over it. Then he realized what he'd done.
WHAT WAS THAT.
WAS THAT A CROSS COUNTRY JUMP?!
|"did someone say jump?!"|
Because he is Bobby and perhaps not the sharpest pony in the pony barn, it took him a few strides to figure out what sorcery has just been committed. But then he remembered he is an event horse and event horses JUMP ALL THE THINGS.
After which we made it home while he flung himself sideways at the canter while joyfully celebrating, or--when I could finally muscle him into a slower gait--jigging.
And that's the story of why my horse is now doing every ride in an elevator. One day we'll regain a little self control.
In the meantime, we've both got a lot of basic muscles to rebuild. Bring on the hill walking!