Ground Hogs Day is Bogus!

It’s the horses that know when spring is here. It seemed to be the theme of my conversations with friends/clients yesterday. Most of my conversations involved hearing stories of horses doing “mad runs” in the pasture, normally stalwart horses acting like spastic three year olds, or general goofiness. I even got a video of one particularly sweet gelding galloping around the outdoor like a mustang that had just mainlined heroine. My response, via text message, was “did he run off with the longe line or did you turn him out with his saddle on”. The response that I received was well deserved on my part – who says that dripping sarcasm does not come across in a text message.

My own horses are letting me know that it is spring. One way is by the fact that I am spitting horse hair constantly. Ries, in his every present “over-achiever-ism” started shedding over a month ago. In addition to his luxurious mane and tail, Ries also grows a winter coat worthy of a Barbaloot. Whitman came in the other day with what appeared to be a very thick blonde beard and mustache. A moment later, a highly indignant palomino miniature horse came in with his knickers clearly in a twist.

Whitman remains a bit bi-polar. He alternates wanting to be slow and behind the leg to some fairly impressive bucking and spooking for no apparent reason to finally giving in, strutting around and really enjoying being a fancy forward moving dressage horse. I have a feeling that one of us will eventually end up medicated.

Ries just got his SI injected and has two more days of stall rest. My other half accidentally turned him loose the other night. He went to put sawdust in Ries’ stall and turned to talk to me. Ries, seeing the open door and knowing it was turn out time, politely exited the stall, trotted down the aisle and straight out the barn door. I looked at Mac and stated the obvious – “he is on stall rest” – grabbed a lead rope and ran out the barn door after my freshly “vet-billed” OTTB. Ries is a bit like Sheldon Cooper in terms of the “rules”. Ries made it up the driveway to the corner of the barn by the time we were out after him with a lead rope and grain. Before we could even shake the grain, Ries turned on his heel and trotted right past us with his head down and not making eye contact. He trotted down the barn aisle and back into his stall. He seemed a bit sheepish about having nearly doing something naughty.

Webster, despite a grazing muzzle, looks like someone inflated a Morgan with a perpetual wedgie. We hooked him up yesterday to start getting him a bit more fit. We could just barely squeeze him in between the shafts on the cart. The three of us could sense impending spring as we trotted down the road in what seemed to be a non stop wave of horse hair blowing back onto us. Despite having a ton of personality and several of them, Webster is a superb driving horse. Its more a combination of he enjoys it and his keen sense of self preservation that makes it so easy with him. He is very impressed with his own trot, does more head tossing than Tom Cruise in a Mission Impossible movie, and knows darn well with a cart attached that silliness on his part could lead to him harming his own precious body.

Oh and the other big sign – the combination of wind, mud, remaining ice and a “to do” list that is growing at what seems to be an exponential rate, along with a weather forecast of a return to the 30’s shortly. WNY – how I love thee.







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