Yesterday, the weather finally cooperated enough for me to go ride with Anne. While she tacked up Atut, I wrangled Colter and spent twenty minutes pulling burrs out of his tail. Colter was a total doll. He stood quietly, even after Atut left the barn and even while Atut’s paddock-mate Minnie screamed and trotted around. Colt got a little bug-eyed when he saw me coming with the saddle, but did nothing naughty while I tacked him up. He gave me a little of his old nastiness when it came to his bridle, but I’m willing to chalk that up to a lukewarm bit.
In the arena, Colt and I were greeted by a super-pissed Anne and Atut. Atut was apparently being extra-evasive and like…kind of nasty! He didn’t want to move forward and even went backwards when Anne mounted. That’s definitely un-Atut like behavior. Once Anne got a couple of good transitions out of him, she got off and called it a day.
I longed Colt for about twenty minutes before I got on; seeing as how I hadn’t ridden him in the better part of four months, I thought I’d rather be safe than sorry. He was an idiot on the longe line, swinging his head in to stop and stare at me and leaping off when I stepped toward him. Now added to my list of Things To Do With Colter: return to the round pen and review longeing.
Once he behaved himself on the longe line for more than five minutes, I hopped on. We worked only at a walk, since I didn’t want him to get any hotter in the cold weather. He was a superstar! Anne had us do a few bending exercises as well as some halt-walk transitions. Colt was quiet, relaxed, and totally focused on what I was telling him to do.
When we wrapped up riding, I untacked him and brought out the bane of his existence: wormer! The last time I wormed him, he spat most of it out into my hair/onto my shirt. I backed him into a stall, quietly rubbed his face with the tube of wormer, and slipped it into the corner of his mouth. He immediately freaked out, zoomed backwards, scared himself, farted, and wormer squirted in a greenish-yellow fountain into the air. Most of it landed on the floor of the stall. I got another tube out, gritted my teeth, and managed to get most of it down his throat. He pouted all the way out to his field.
|Y U GIVE ME NASTY YELLOW PASTE?!?!?!
In contrast, I looped a lead rope around Moe’s neck out in the pasture, and gave him his dose of dewormer with a minimum of fuss. Moe is the best horse ever.
Happy New Year!