Some Days are Just Magic

There are days when nothing goes right... and then there are days when you laugh and realize you're the luckiest person in the world.

I love walking into the barn. I usually visit the front area to see if there's anyone there to say hi to, then go through the front tack room and down the aisle past a few horses and the cows (the barn owners pets), and peek into the indoor ring. There's usually someone to say hi to, and catch up with.

Today I got there at the same time as Dorothy, though by the time I'd collected all the stuff I was going to bring in she'd already gone inside.

As I came around the corner after checking the indoor, I saw Jean and Ebony, Ebony all tacked up and ready to go. We chatted a bit; Ebony'd fallen last week and hurt himself, his right gaskin, but seemed better today. She was going to throw him on the lunge line first before riding him though - he's a high energy horse.

Dorothy took Pongo into the indoor for his pre-ride roll, then brought him back in and started brushing him.

None of the horses had gotten out much this past week, between the rain, snow, then more rain and wind. The wind had been so bad some of the nearby trees had crashed through the skylights in the indoor; there were buckets and wheelbarrows catching the rain yesterday and they were there today, though not really needed: it was overcast but dry. They provided a prop to use to make things more interesting: figure eights around the wheelbarrow, then around the bucket collection. Reverse, and again, then big oval around all... a bit less boring than constantly circling along the wall.

So having been inside for so long, Tico had been pretty perky yesterday. I rode him in english tack, and we had lots of energetic canters, most often his idea rather than mine. I like when Mr Moseyalong has some gumption, so though it's a bit naughty of him to just volunteer it without being asked, I encourage him to continue and get his ya-yas out.

Today, I'd decided to throw the western tack on him. I am the worlds slowest groomer, and though I was trying to go fast, Dorothy had tacked up Pongo and started riding and Jean had taken Ebony out to lunge him and I was still cleaning Tico's feet. I peeked in to watch Ebony and he looked like he was going along well; I went back to getting Tico ready.

Then Jean came back into the aisle with Ebony. He'd gotten a bit rambunctious on the lunge line and taken a bad step, and seemed to have reinjured his leg. I'd thrown Tico back into his stall quickly - he and Ebony don't like each other - when she came in; concerned, I started to walk towards her, talking.

I'd neglected to shut Tico's stall door.

"Tico's loose!" Dorothy said. I turned to see him giving me the horsie-finger - his tail up over his back - as he pranced out the back door. I grabbed a leadline and some carrots, and headed out into the mud to follow.

He looked so smug - head up, tail flagged, big trot through the mud, swinging his head side to side to look back at me - I had to smile. He pranced around to the right and then strolled into an empty turnout, the whole time with his butt to me and his tail in the air. I was navigating the mud and still about 30 feet behind him.

"Ha! He turned himself out!" I said to Dorothy, who'd peeked out the back door to see how things were going. But as I approached, he seemed to have decided he hadn't had nearly enough fun yet. Back out the gate he came, and around to his left, heading down the path to the back ring. Tail up over his back as he splashed through the mud, taunting me, swinging his head to the left and right to make sure I was following - I was getting a horsie raspberry, definitely.

I started down the path he was prancing down. He stopped about 20 feet down, and looked back at me, still facing away.

"I have carrots!" I said, and showed him the handful of cut up pieces.

That was all she wrote. Pigsley turned around and trotted up to me, still head up, ears pricked forward, mane flying and tail flagged. He looked like something out of a romance novel. Even though I knew it was carrot-induced enthusiasm, I felt a thrill watching this beautiful animal running up to me. I attached the lead rope as he gobbled the carrots and led him back in, still prancing. "It's a good thing you're cute!" I growled at him.

The rest of the cleaning and tacking up was uneventful, though by the time I was ready Dorothy and Pongo were already done. I headed out to the indoor, where Frani and Jan were practicing some reining moves; Frani on Boomer and Jan on Newman.

Tico was energetic again today, though not as much piss and vinegar as yesterday. We trotted and cantered around a bit, then I stopped near Frani to watch Newman do some slides. Reining really is fascinating, and definitely requires a sensitivity and timing that I don't think I'll ever manage. I love to watch them.

When they were done, Frani and Jan led Boomer and Newman out and I had the ring to myself. I put Tico back to work, got a nice working trot going.

As we came around the corner near the front of the ring, a couple of barn swallows flew down, chattering and twisting around in the dirt a bit to our right. I felt Tico turn all his focus onto those birds: he pinned his ears and snaked his head down, and darted at them.

Only Tico would try to herd barn swallows.

We worked only a few minutes more after that. I rode him over to face the mirror and played "which side is the carrot on" stretching exercises: showing him the carrot in the mirror, then bringing it down behind my leg and asking him to stretch his neck around for it, alternating sides. We did that until we ran out of carrots (in my pocket, anyway), then I brought him back in, pulled off all his tack, rubbed him down and threw him in his stall with carrots and Kashi bar crumbles in his bucket.

Dusty is starting to molt. I brought out the shedding blade and got some of the hair off him, but he's still holding on to it pretty much. Still, we had a nice time hanging, as I rubbed him down, cleaned his feet, fed him copious amounts of carrot bits, and finally put him out with Pongo, who'd gone out to the turnout a few minutes before. I'd thought of throwing him on the lungeline, but I'd done that yesterday and he'd had a good old time for himself bucking and farting and running around, but ended up getting sweaty - not a good thing for a horse with a yak coat in the winter; it's really hard to get him dry and he can catch a chill. So I figured he'd be happy to go hang with his bud, and I wouldn't have to cool him off and leave him wearing a cooler so he'd be warm and dry.

I raked up the hair (Tico had contributed a good amount of the pile as well), swept up the aisle where we'd been, and went to dump the muck that I'd swept up into the manure pile. When I headed out the door, I saw that Pongo was running laps around Dusty, periodically reaching over to bite him; Dusty was standing there, looking annoyed and put-out.

They are grumpy old men, but I have no idea what had gotten into Pongo. I went out and split some Kashi bars between them and told Pongo to leave Dusty alone. He slobbered on me. I hugged Dusty goodbye, navigated the mud one last time back to the barn, said my goodbyes and handed out the last of the carrot bits to everyone.

Sometimes, the world is just *perfect*.