June 13th, 14th. Nice days...

Not too much happened... There was a lesson, there was riding, Cinch was a really good boy, so was Tico (though as usual, he was filthy...)

I'd bought a saddle pad liner to go under the saddle pads. It dries a lot more quickly than when you hose off a saddle pad - whether it be fleece or felt, those suckers take forever to dry.

The liner is about an 1/8th of an inch thick, and I could wish for it to be a bit longer on the sides, but still... so much easier to hose that off and just lay it in the sun for a few hours, than the days a saddle pad could take.

Anyway, I also dewormed the boys on Sunday. Cinch was fairly demonstrative in showing his opinion of the matter:

That lip stayed that way for a long time

I don't think it really tasted that bad, since they both accepted a Kashi bar offering immediately afterwards.  Some of the paste dewormers must taste like ass (or the horse equivalent, since they have no compunction about smelling poops, so maybe ass tastes good?). With some, they stand there, sniff the offering, and look away sadly. This was not one of those dewormers. 

On Sunday, After riding a bit in the back ring, I rode Cinch up the path to the gate going out to the back field. He was very looky and worried about it. We'll go out there at some point, but I think we'll have to work up to it.

Anyway, I did take Tico out into the back field again Sunday afternoon. As soon as we went into the field, he spied a turkey to our far right. It was pretty far away, and heading towards the trees. 

As we were watching, another one stood up (apparently he'd been crouching down in the tall grass), and scooted towards the trees as well.

And then another popped up, same thing.

Tico was a bit bug-eyed, but not too bad. We stood there and watched, waiting  to see if another was going to appear.

Finally I gave him a boot, he girded his loins, and we walked on. Warily, casting nervous glances over towards the trees, but we walked on.

We mostly just ambled over the fields, then over to the pond where the geese hang out. He looks at the geese, but more curious than as if they're going to grow fangs and attack. We watched a small family (the babies all fluffy-downy-cute) waddle over to the pond then glide into the water.

Heading back, I asked him to canter: