posted on Monday
In recent days here at home…
Duncan Horse: My paddock is too small. It is too muddy. It is too icy. It is NOT RIGHT.
Mind you, it’s a paddock of quite a decent size, plenty of room to move. But it is indeed too muddy, too icy, and is missing a big chunk the middle between the tree cluster and the fenced-off sinkhole area.
Duncan Horse: I need to move my Lippie legs! Right NOW.
And I said to him, “Talk to Mother Nature.”
And Mother Nature said, “Ooh la la! I feel like more SNOW!”
Truly, Duncan hasn’t gone that long between any given rides. The pasture ground is in “no way” mode, but I’ve been taking him out on the road and stretching his legs and back out on the hills we’ve got here. Decent rides–long enough to loosen him up, put him in a correct frame, and enlarge his world with the idea of uphill and downhill lateral work…not to mention the sight-seeing.
(Duncan Horse interjects: That uphill/downhill lateral work is HARD.)
But on this day, he’d had enough of the weather. It was just warm enough to turn the ice and snow to deep adobe mud, and just briskly breezy enough to go right up a horse’s…er, tail. And out I came to the barn with the bridle and my riding helmet in hand, dumping them in the hay stall to reach for the halter.
Duncan Horse: Let’s go! Let’s go! Now, now, NOW! I rattle the gate! I dance! Rattlerattle dance DEMAND!
Me: Oh, have some manners. *taps the side of the barn with the dressage whip*
Duncan Horse: NO DAMMIT NO MANNERS &&^%$#@! I RUN BUCK SNORT FIERCE NOBLE CHARGE LEAP FLY WHIRL FLING SNORTIE SNORT MAD MAD MAD!
Me: Ohhh-kay then. Maybe you should just get that out of your system. I’ll watch. Try not to injure yourself in this mud.
Duncan Horse: FLING CHARGE &^%$#@! FENCE NOBLE NOBLE STRUT FLY!
Me: *buffs nails*
Duncan Horse: FLING CHARGE STRUT NOBLE NOBLE NOBLE…wuf wuf wuf…hooves….mud…weigh one hundred pounds each…I…ummm… by any chance do you have a carrot? Would you like to kiss my nose now?
Me: Why, yes. *SMACKEROO* Shall we ride now?
Duncan Horse: Yes please. Can we…just…*wuf*…walk?
(No fling-buck piccies–alas, no camera that day. Just a dirty Lippie boy doing a bit of freestyle along the south paddock line–a nice bold trot with engine engaged and a nice little floaty trot.)