Because life with horses is never orderly.
And be prepared to bribe like you’ve never bribed before.
As we start getting legitimately *brisk* mornings, it seems that my younger charges need just a bit more in the way of negotiating to keep their exuberance to a minimum. :/ One of my favorite little jerks managed to take his very talented self on a self-guided field trip out of the arena and around the yard; cheeky bugger. 😀
They happen.
We’ve all made them. Some of us just make them somewhat more frequently than others…(I am looking at you, baby horse).
A tragic, awful theme.
This is life with a baby warmblood. I suppose if I am honest, it’s life with nearly any horse you love because if you didn’t love them, you’d kill them. 😉
Maybe they see dead people?
..with Warmbloods anyway. The Beastlet is quite content to schlep around doing stretchy work or walking on a long rein–even with the million heavy trucks, cars, and motorcycles that rampage along the miniature highway next to our ring– without so much as even a glance. But pick him up and go to work and suddenly even the AIR is cause for spooking.
A fresh Hell indeed.
Also synonymous with “death wish.” Seriously (my youngster is actively trying to kill me each ride* I’m silly enough to try). Just as seriously, I am entirely DONE with winter. Over it. The next person to tell me how beautiful the snow is is getting a shirt full of it.
Magic, arena footing, same difference…?
Today’s handy tip: for a less ‘majikal’ ride wait until it’s above 20 degrees to ride your youngsters; trust me on this.