Long strange trip

Way back in 2006, life was pretty good. G and I had moved on up to a deluxe apartment in the sky in downtown Memphis. I was in law school, and he had a Good Job with a Big Company. We had mentally unstable Lab named Linux (yes, I know, I'm a nerd) and I wanted a motorcycle. Or a horse! But a motorcycle would do. Or a horse would be great.

There was a coffeeshop downstairs and two doors down from our building, a little independent place with a crazy owner and an ever-changing cast of baristas. I got to be friends with a particularly crazy one and learned that she had a horse! She kept her mare just a few miles north of downtown, in a really sketchy part of town called Frayser. She invited me to come out and ride, so I did a few times. I did some (in retrospect, rather unrealistic) math and announced that a horse would only cost, like, $100 a month. But a motorcycle would be pretty awesome too.

My husband finally decided that I was slightly less likely to kill myself on a horse, and he told me that we could get a horse if I would STFU about the motorcycle and never ask for one again. That fall, he got a bonus, and we sold my sweet little Eclipse to a friend and bought a truck and a horse.

I got Champ out of the newspaper, of all things. I had a $1500 budget, and I knew just enough to know I needed a bombproof gelding, 9-15 years old. I called about a few horses, from CL and from the newspaper, but Champ sounded like the best prospect. He was 12, and it was love at first sight. The sweet old fellow I got Champ from had three horses - a spotted chestnut TWH, a grey Arab, and a plain bay. The bay looked up at me when I got out of my truck, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He neck reined and did a slow gait, and he had four legs and a heartbeat, and I bought him that day.

Here he is the day I got him.


Scraggly fugly thing. Half his mane was bald - I called it Gelding Pattern Baldness - he was sickle-hocked, he had a horrid topline and a pipecleaner tail, and he had the kindest personality I've ever met.



The place I boarded at rented stalls for $60/mo, self-care. ($100/mo wasn't totally unrealistic!) They were out of tack rooms, so they gave me an extra stall and I turned it into a badass tack room. I put some tin on the walls, built a plywood floor, wired up switched fluorescent lights, added some benches and saddle and blanket racks.

The stable had three barns. There was a very sad old mare in my barn, perpetually locked in her stall with knee-deep manure and a 6 mo baby at her side. The baby was still nursing and had eaten all the old mare's mane and tail. That poor old thing hung her head out and watched me whenever I went in the barn, and I fed her carrots and rubbed her head a lot. When I heard she was for sale, I had to buy her. (Excuse: you can't ride the same horse every day, that's just cruel!) Silky set me back all of $450.



I commandeered a turnout paddock that no one ever used and my two horses lived there, except for when it rained. Champ was fun and easy to ride, and Silky was squirrely and pacey and very hard to ride. I rode them both, six days a week.

I did the most ridiculous dumb shit and got away with it. Champ almost killed us backing into the highway once, and he took up a minor rearing habit. Silky didn't want to stand still for me to mount, so I'd just tie her up and get on, then lean over and unhook the lead. They lived in a falling-down barbed wire pasture. I had never actually seen anyone wear a helmet in real life. One time I rode under a railroad trestle bridge while a train was going by overhead, because I needed to get away from the pack of four-wheelers roaring toward us on a narrow trail. I got chased by a dude on a four-wheeler with a shotgun once. My best riding buddy and I found a stripped torched car in the woods, still smoking. He saved me from riding Champ into a nest of cottonmouths one spring, and we went out after dark in the summers to watch the deer feed.

I let the farrier re-shoe Champ once, then decided I wanted to try that barefoot thing I'd been reading about on the internet. Champ was ouchy on gravel, but it was easy enough to ride around the gravel and stick to soft dirt, and he was fine there. I decided the farrier was a drunken idiot and learned to trim for myself. I hired him to pull shoes every time I bought a horse, and I don't think he ever really noticed that I never got him to come back and trim any other time.

I found a good hay farmer, but he only sold round bales. I started borrowing a 16' flatbed utility trailer to haul my hay home, and I learned to back that thing around trees and dead cars and tractors and mud puddles. I learned how to do a lot of stuff for myself.

I'll tell yall about my Percheron Poppy, and my beautiful Dixie, next time.

Spring fever

I went out Friday and had a ride on my crazy mare. It was very windy - a storm front was blowing in - and Dixie has come into that first raging spring heat. She had completely forgotten all of her ground manners - she kept trying to run over me as I groomed her, and she tried to yank her feet away. The first mile had a lot of stopping to stare and hope a stallion came charging out of nowhere for some sweet lovin. We did the scenic hills and the mines - a pretty short ride.

Garmin - we did 6.99 in 1:40, average of 4.2 mph.

The full mines trail - what we did Friday - has a lot of very twisty singletrack. One day we'll be able to trot it or rack it, and I suppose I should go ahead and push Dixie to try it, but it's not the easiest trail in the world to head down at speed. More importantly, I wasn't pushing her too hard. I was very happy to just be back on my horse, back in these mountains I've come to love so much, watching a storm front roll in. She's just starting to shed seriously, and it was surprisingly warm (mid 50s) but with sustained winds of maybe 40 mph. Just didn't seem like the kind of day where you should push your horse to work hard, and I wasn't in the mood to work her hard.

Anyway! Comparing today's ride with one month ago, I see some nice improvement. (Oddly, one month ago was almost the same pace/time/distance.) Dixie's walk is improving - once she hit her groove / became resigned to her fate, she kept up a very businesslike walk above 4 mph. Her mid speed and her canter are improving in duration, too. The middle speed is switching around quite a bit - seems like it's trot maybe 1/3 of the time and something else more comfortable the other 2/3ds, probably a bit of RW and a lot of step pace.

Digression: sometimes I get incredibly discouraged that we'll never finish a 50 on time because she isn't making heroic gains in her cardio fitness / middle speed duration. It's cause I'm fat, or maybe cause she has cancer, or cause she's a gangly Walker and not a teeny narrow Arab. Then I breathe slowly and deeply, back away from the ledge, and talk sensibly - she IS making reasonable progress. That's why I have the blog and the GPS, so I can look back and see how she's improving. The winter coat will fall off, and she'll cool off faster, and I'll lose some weight now that the bar's over, and if she does have cancer that's just shitty luck, but she doesn't look in any way unhealthy. (If you're a somewhat new reader, I lost my heart-buddy gelding to fucking liver cancer, of all things, almost a year ago.)

Anyway. I don't know of any other endurance wannabes, much less non-arab endurance wannabes, who have posted GPS info as they first legged up a horse. If I had someone else's progress to compare to, I might feel better (or worse). But we'll muddle on through.

Today was stormy, and hopefully tomorrow will be clearer. I am going to rig up some cross ties and try to get off the loose winter hair, whether she likes it or not! Then we'll head out for a long ride, maybe 15 miles?

Victory, finally!

We have conquered the scary outdoor arena. I was pretty full of despair that we'd EVER ride ANYWHERE outside my barn's little indoor, but by Jove we've done it.

I've been working on this very clear stop from Mugwump for about four rides now. Basically, to put a good woah on a green horse, she squeezes the crest by the withers, THEN sits deep, picks up the reins and just pulls and holds til the horse stops. Later she adds a verbal woah to replace the squeeze. Dixie's got a sort of sense that when I say woah she ought to think about petering to a halt, so I started religiously going squeeze-woah-pull. She got no release whatsoever til she stopped. The squeeze was a really clear pre-cue, the woah, sitting deep, and reins let her know stopping is not an option but a requirement.

The first ride she hated me. The second ride she had clearly "gotten" it and stopped on just the squeeze-"woah." By the third ride she was bored with stopping, so we went back to locked hands to get the point across. Fourth ride she seemed to realize that woah means WOAH, no arguing. Today we headed outside!

We did a couple tiny circles and woahs, then headed off to the Scary Corner of the arena. When I turned her to head back, she got really big in front and light. I kinda wanted to cry, but I sat down deep and said real low "Easy, now, don't you dare." She walked very fast back to the gate, but by god she walked! We spun around and did it again, and again, and again. I got in a good 45 minute ride before LUNCH TIME.

They were feeding the horses outside today, and I insisted that Dixie listen to me while the feed lady was walking around dumping grain in the paddocks. I couldn't quite get Dixie's ears to focus on me, but she did actually respond quite nicely to all of my cues so I called it success.

I usually ride shortly before the horses' lunch (dinner?) time. The BO quite politely thinks I'm crazy, but here's my theory. If I can get my horse to pay attention to me even when every other horse in the barn is screaming for dinner, then I'm building some really valuable priorities in her head. Most training is just many many repetitions of small successes. I want to keep my horse listening to ME even when she doesn't really want to, when there's something else way more exciting/scary/fun going on. So we ride for 30 or 60 minutes, until the BO starts climbing in the hayloft throwing hay down into the stalls and the help is wheeling grain carts out. That's when she really absolutely MUST listen to me and focus on me. Once I get a couple good repetitions of something out of her, we stop and she EATS.

Obviously, when we finally pick up the pace, I'll have to stop letting her eat directly after a ride. But it's a good exercise so far!

I guess if I can repeat this good behavior outside a couple more times - and the woah stays solid - I will start adding some speed. I feel like I have been fucking around for MONTHS and making NO progress, but I think maybe I've actually just been very slowly filling in some huge holes in her training.

When I got her, she was "show broke," which meant she went straight forward as fast as possible in gait and not much else. Any leg meant go faster, she only stopped when nearby horses stopped or we approached a solid object, and she was sure that nothing good ever came from reins. I got her desensitized to legs entirely, then taught her to bend around a leg, then taught her that the bit isn't her enemy, then FINALLY got a woah on her. Probably backwards, but I had no idea I'd have so much trouble teaching woah!

I am still not ready to try a whip or spurs again. Dixie's had both of those used on her, and she's got really strong fear reactions to them while under saddle. I'd rather keep the trust I have built and gently encourage speed for a while longer. I think both whips and spurs are really useful subtle tools in the right hands, but I don't require those tools yet and I don't want to scare her.

I think I've reached a verdict on the Imus saddle too - it's just not comfortable for me. I mean, the SEAT is fantastic, and it fits her well, but I just cannot get used to the thick leather under my legs. I just can't feel her, and I don't think she can feel my legs. My NBS saddle fits surprisingly better with the different rigging, and I think I'll just keep using it for a while longer.

I don't think I'm cut out for Western saddles anymore. I use my legs as cues all the time, not just to thump with my heels to go faster. And more importantly, *I* need the feedback from feeling the horse's sides. I'm definitely going English when I get a different saddle.

Also I really missed Champ today. I think about him every time I drive to the barn, but for some reason I MISSED him so much more today. Cried off and on all day, even after such a thoroughly good ride on Dixie. :(

I'd like to be perfect right now, k thx?

Argh, I know I haven't updated in forever. Here's the quick recap:

Thursday was excellent!

Friday was terrible. Friday night the package from OSU arrived with Champ's hair and hoof impression, and I went into a deep sulking depression all weekend. I only pulled out of it, somewhat, after finishing off Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell. He made a good case that nobody's actually very good at anything until they put in 10,000 hours of practice at it. This made me feel slightly better about my abject failure to turn a green broke horse into a calm, collected, willing partner in 30 days. Or my failure to turn myself into a fantastic, brave, fair and effective trainer/rider in 6 months.

So yesterday I slogged back out, yet again, to work on becoming a better rider and work on teaching my horse to, I dunno, do stuff. She was really quite good! And I had another huge revelation!

I can, pretty easily, unlock my arms and follow the motion of her head with the reins. I can also close my fingers to give her a rein aid. I could not do both at the same time. The reason she gets so pissed when I try to USE the reins is because whatever hand I activate freezes up and the bit yanks on her mouth. Sigh.

Once I figured that out, I spent a full hour yesterday working on following her head while I closed the fingers of a hand to activate an aid. She was much better, and I really feel like that is the main problem she has with the bit.

It's a really stupid lesson that took me a really long time to learn, but I'll never forget it, I bet. :)

Today we had a minor disagreement while I was grooming her before tacking up. Dixie thought her chest had been brushed enough, so she did that "quit touching me!" super-slow-exaggerated air-bite right above my skin. I thought that was completely out of line, so I screamed like an Ebola monkey and took a swing at her as she backed up. Then I threw both brushes at her, one at a time, and nailed her both times. Screamed the whole time too. Then I turned away from her, got completely calmed down, went and picked up my brushes, and groomed her entire body over again. She was a complete angel.

That's only, I think, the fourth time one of my horses has tried to bite me, and that's exactly how I handle it every time it happens. Champ tried once, Poppy tried twice (lunkhead!), and now Dixie's tried once. Screaming and acting like I'm going to kill the biting horse, then completely dropping the matter, usually fixes things permanently.

Anyway, once I finally rode, we did some not unrecognizable serpentines, some good speeding / slowing from my seat, and some actual straight lines down the scary side of the arena. Yay!

We're not perfect, and I miss my Champ, but we're muddling through things ok.

I'm BAAACK!

Cue air guitar and bad Aerosmith imitation. I had a good ride yesterday, and another good ride today. YAY!

Yesterday the rain finally stopped, so everybody got turned out for the first time in like five days. I knew it was muddy, and I knew Dixie would get to go out, but I was not quite mentally prepared for the quantity of mud on my horse. At least it had dried... but she was about 70% covered in an inch of mud.

Here's another fugly-fodder confession from your favorite redneck: I used the metal currycomb to break up the mud. I've read and heard so many people decrying the metal curry as a tool of torture, but it's really not! It has two functions: it breaks up mud clumps on a horse, and it cleans the loose hair off of your brushes. I'm sure it is torturous to groom your horse with a metal curry, but just running it over her to break up dried mud clumps is acceptable, IMO.

After I turned clods into dust, I brushed as much dust off as I could. Sadly, my once-white horse is now ecru. Another bath is in order, but the wash stall plumbing is under repair. I am rapidly turning into a clean-horse freak. :(

Anyway. We pottered around the arena for a while, very calmly for both of us, and I called it a day.

Today was gorgeous, high of 72 (22) and sunny. I brushed and brushed, but she's still ecru. And the wash rack is still broken. :( Anyway, I mounted up in the arena and we rode around again.

Dixie's still being awful about the bit. I need to decide if I'm going to buy a different bit for her, buy a hackamore, buy a bosal, ride her in a halter, etc. (I looked at the "anybody can borrow" bridles hanging in the arena, but I'm not sure about them. A couple curbs, and a couple of slow-twist snaffles. She wouldn't lean as badly on a twisted snaffle, but I don't think she'd accept the contact too well either.) But! We have come to an understanding about leg aids. She knows what I mean when I steer her with my legs. Sometimes she wants to ignore me, and that's when I pick up the contact with the reins.

Then I got off and we headed outside, to the driveway / front of barn area. I carefully walked her around most of the area, showing her the Scary Monsters. Mainly she wanted to eat the lovely lush grass, but she did spook a bit about the windchimes and a couple sacks of rock salt.

I don't actually play the "touch the goblin" c/t game, but I have been working for over a year on getting her to investigate scary things. She used to see a Monster and try to bolt. Then we progressed to seeing a Monster, snorting, leaping away, and refusing to come closer. Now when she sees Monstrous Windchimes, for example, she'll snort and tense up and veerrrrry slowly stick the tip of her nose out to get a sniff of it. Good progress, I think.

I headed over to my truck and got her to line up with the bumper so I could mount. I've just started adding a verbal cue, "line up." For most of my clicker stuff, I try not to speak at all til she's got the behavior down. Once she'll offer the behavior, I add a verbal cue. She did quite well lining up to the bumper, and up I went.

We just walked around and enjoyed the sunshine. I let her graze most of the time. I just made sure I was the one who decided when we moved, and where we moved - I can't let her completely tote me around or she'll take full advantage. But I wanted today to be a very pleasant memory - it's her first trip "outside" under saddle in Ohio.

Standing in an open paddock, letting her graze, soaking in the sun, felt really nice. It reminded me a lot of Champ, in a good way. Maybe all the doors didn't close when he died - I'd felt like there was so much that ~only we~ could do together. Maybe Dixie and I can do some of those things too.

On Fear

Ok, I will admit it. I got The Fear when Dixie bolted around with me Wednesday. Kids and young adults, who bounce better than us old farts, probably don't "get" this, but those of you who are 30+ know what I'm talking about. That visceral terror that makes your muscles lock up. The kind of stupid adrenaline-fear that brings tears to your eyes, even if you're not actually scared enough to cry.

I am so mad about it, too. I remember like 4 or 5 months ago when I had last beaten The Fear - I was really hoping it was gone for good, that I'd just be normally cautious about my velocity and trajectory re: the ground. Maybe you never beat it. Maybe it's always lurking and you've just got to perpetually fight it. That's ok, too, I suppose.

My old coping mechanism was to just ride Champ. Scared of Silky? Poppy? Dixie? Any random horse? Ride Champ. Scared of school, life, relationships? Ride Champ. I felt as safe on him as I ever feel, and just rolling down the trail on him got my body comfortable with the motions of a horse again. He was awesome in a way that no other horse I've met is awesome. I hope he wasn't a once-in-a-lifetime horse, but maybe he was. Sigh.

So there's no Champ, just Dixie, who really is a sweet girl most of the time. I have to deal with The Fear all on my own. At least I know I can do it, which is a strength many people don't have - I know so many people who "rode a horse one time but I fell off and I'm never getting back on one." I am actually a passable rider now. I intellectually know the right things to do, and my body even does them most of the time.

Anyway. Friday I stayed home. I don't ride seven days a week; Friday was my day off. Saturday I went out knowing I needed to get back on Dixie. I even took videos for yall!

First I wanted to free lunge her again so she'd do the lovely floaty trot thing. Of course she didn't cooperate, but this is still cute. Just trust me that earlier this week she was even more extended and more snorty and cantered a lot too. (Also no laughing at my axe-cent!)


Free trotting in the arena from Funder on Vimeo.

So I tacked her up, filled up my pockets with treats, and started free-shaping nice mounting behavior. I cunningly decided to use her natural horsey one-sidedness to my advantage. She gets nervous about people on her near side mounting, so I started over on her off side. I stood by her off side stirrup, patiently following her around as she backed up and sidestepped, til she stopped, then c/t. After she figured out that's what I wanted, I went and stood on a mounting block. She very quickly figured out that I was only going to give treats when she stood lined up to the block. I cannot believe how easy it was, I really can't.

I got on and froze. So I treated her, got off, calmed down, and did it again. And again, and again, til I didn't feel so spooked about it. She was really absolutely stellar.

Then I untacked her and let her roam around the arena again. I was sitting on the mounting block, holding the camera, when she decided to flop down and roll about 5' away!


Dixie rolling in the arena from Funder on Vimeo.

Doesn't she look happy? And GROSS - man, that arena sand stinks!

Andrea, don't ever get a grey or a paint. You'd have a heart attack.


Today I went back, mounted/dismounted a couple times, then rode around. Well, it's more like I sat on her back while she walked around. I just held the reins near the buckle and concentrated on how my body felt, how my legs wrap around her and my spine moves with her body.

Tomorrow we'll actually work a little, I think.

Quick update

OSU just called. It was most likely cancer, and I definitely made the right decision. His liver was "very abnormal" and there was "only a small amount of normal liver left." The abnormal part (the tumor, I suppose, but we won't know for sure til the path people look at it) was what ruptured and caused the internal bleeding.

My poor Champ. I hope he wasn't miserable for years; he always seemed like a happy laid back horse. I feel ever so slightly better about things.

I rode Dixie today, but I'll write up a post on that later.

The worst day of my entire life.

Champ is dead.

Yesterday he was off his feed - hadn't finished his hay, which is really unusual. But the weather was wonky so we decided to just watch him. I left right about the time they fed for the night. This morning I got a call that he hadn't eaten his grain or touched his hay overnight, just drank some water. Actually I got several calls, because I am a dumbass and left my phone in the living room overnight. Anyway. The barn owners called the vet and I dashed out about 9 to find a very sick looking horse.

They gave him some banamine, because it looked like a colic. And they put him in the arena to walk around if he wanted, and he'd pooped a little before I got there, so we were hoping it wasn't serious. He looked miserable, kind of shaky. His gums were very pale. He had gut sounds when I first there, but by noon they'd stopped. The vet was at the human doctor and promised to come out as soon as he done, but he didn't get out there til noon.

The vet was my first clue that things were going really horribly. He came out, did a fairly brief examination, tried to palpate, and told me to take him to OSU vet school immediately. He said Champ was somewhat impacted but I think he knew there was something Very Bad happening.

I didn't have the right trailer brake hookup thing on my truck, and the barn owner was in Indiana with her truck, so I called Graham and he came out with the F-150. We hooked up the BO's 2 horse slant, loaded Champ, and headed off. I guess we got to the hospital about 3? It took a while, between the vet exam, calling OSU, calling Graham, etc.

When we walked in the door with Champ a huge swarm of incredibly capable vets and students descended on us. The surgery team started with us, assuming it was colic, but they passed us on to the medical team pretty quickly. I stood at his head petting him and telling him he could bite people as soon as he felt better.

They did blood work, several times. Gave him NG and IV fluids, which perked him up a tiny bit. Shaved all over and did three separate ultrasounds, which is when I started to realize it was Really Very Seriously Bad. He had a lot of internal bleeding, and he had something terribly wrong with his liver. The RBC and WBC counts were extremely low, and his liver enzymes were wrong too - I can't remember if they were high or low. And his liver was not right. The ultrasound of it didn't look to them at all like a liver, so either there was a huge clot obscuring it, there was a huge tumor in its place and it was pushed behind his lungs, or it was really diseased.

We moved him to a stall in ICU while they waited for some tests to come back and thought about what to tell me. He ate three straws of his bedding and one small bite of some gorgeous green alfalfa and just stood there, wobbling.

Finally two of the medical vets came and talked to me. Whatever happened is pretty rare. They'd found a journal article about, umm, 80 or so horses that had presented with similar internal bleeding in about a decade (late 90s to 2004). Only 50% of them had survived to discharge, and there wasn't a great breakdown of the statistics - more than half of the horses in the article had obvious causes for their bleeding, either being kicked, colicking, or uterine artery rupture. The vet said they could try a few things to stabilize him overnight, see if they could stop the bleeding, but they had no idea what was wrong with his liver or really what kind of quality of life he'd have.

They left us alone for a while to decide, and I cried and cried and thought it all through. It wasn't trauma; he hadn't been out with Dixie (or at all) for four or five days, just some light riding. It wasn't poisoning; no other horse had any symptoms from possible bad hay and there's no trees or weeds in his paddock. There was something terribly wrong with him, and from the very quiet murmurs during the repeated ultrasounds and liver biopsies they didn't think it was minor. HIs quality of life is the most important thing, and none of us thought there was a good chance of it improving.

Telling them to put him to sleep was the hardest thing I've ever said in my entire life.

They are going to necropsy him tomorrow; they'll call and tell me what they see. If they don't see anything obvious, they'll do lab work that will take up to a month. They're going to mail me some mane and tail hair and a cast of a hoof. And a bill; I have no clue how much this cost. I don't really care.

Then we had to return the empty trailer. I was going to hide in the truck and cry, but I made myself go in and tell the BO and family what all happened. The BO, like the vets, agreed that I'd done the right thing. And the BO told me that I must come ride tomorrow... and I agree. It would be so easy to walk away, let somebody sell Dixie, not even think about horses again. I'm just fucking flattened. But I felt the same way when I put my old Lab to sleep, and then I ended up with Cersei who is the World's Best Dog Ever. I won't give up on falling in love with creatures I outlive.

She does *everything*

Oh wow, I'm way behind. Way, way behind.

I'm still riding Champ, every other day. Not much new there - he's gaining weight, slowly but steadily, and losing hair, slowly but steadily. Much to his chagrin I've switched him over to Dixie's bridle (with the d-ring snaffle, instead of his unbroken low port curb) and we are working on contact. It's good practice for me. My hands are steadily improving. So much, in fact, that I am getting baby callouses on the tops of my index fingers, where the reins sit. Not big "I have hard hands and need gloves" callouses, but very delicate callouses from holding the reins correctly for a couple weeks straight.

I've ridden Dixie three times this week. On Monday the BO saw me riding and offered some tips on getting her on the bit. She coached me through a couple circles til I felt the bend - yay! I think I must take at least a lesson a month, to keep in mind what I need to work on. Anyway then she got on Dixie and worked her in a couple more circles... and Dixie trotted for her. It was cool - a very flat extended trot - but WEIRD! I've never had her offer to trot under saddle with me. It's official; I've now seen every major gait possible from her except a running walk. Sigh - I know a good true RW is hard to get, and I know we'll get there one day, but it's kind of discouraging. Like if my racking horse wouldn't rack, or my MFT wouldn't foxtrot.

Tuesday I rode Champ, then the vet came and gave everybody spring shots. I figured they might feel stiff and/or icky Wednesday, so I stayed home.

Thursday was WARM! Finally hit the magic 70*F, so I wanted to ride Dixie then bathe her. Our ride was... very interesting. I was all prepared to not let her yank the reins, but she... didn't. At all. She was completely calm and laid back. She didn't object to contact at all. She didn't freak out, hollow her back, and try to bolt even ONCE. We did some very calm peaceful walk work, then some hand grazing, then a bath.

Her life with me is an exciting mix of fun and horrible. She's coming around to being groomed, all over, every day - that's moving from "horrible" to "almost pleasant," I believe. Then I ride her, which is usually exciting and also becoming less "horrible." Sometimes I hand graze her or clicker train her, which is full on "fun." But then! Then! I bathed her. Truly horrible.

I am pretty sure she's never had a real bath before. She's been hosed down, but I don't think she's ever had a warm water and shampoo bath in a shower stall before. She was not thrilled but put up with it pretty well. I broke my own rule about "no magical horse products" and used Expensive Magical White Horse Shampoo... which worked. She's noticeably more sparkly. Her mane and tail are less dirty but sadly nowhere near white. No pictures til she's cleaner!

Anyway, I wondered if the unusual calmness was a one-off so I rode her again today. She gave me a nice rack at the beginning, then some good walk work with almost no fighting the bit, then a little pacing, then some more nice calm walk work. I let her walk around on a loose rein for a bit, and she walked over to the corner where the jumps and cavalletti are stored. On her own! She very carefully investigated, giving the hairy eyeball to the wood and sniffing at it like a huge dog. When she was satisfied that the jumps were safe, we walked around a bit more and called it a day.

I coaxed her back into the wash stall. Much snorting and eye rolling but she came right in when she realized I was serious. It's entirely too early for me to actually SAY this... but I suspect maybe she's starting to trust me. MAYYYBE.

Two rides, one injury

Yesterday I rode Dixie and then rasped half my knuckle off. The searing pain in my finger greatly decreased my desire to blog. Today I rode Champ and managed to not injure myself any further. My finger even feels better! Yippie!

So. Yesterday. I got great gobs of hair off of the white yak, but the end is nowhere in sight. Surely this too shall pass? Eventually I figured I'd gotten off enough hair so that the saddle wouldn't slip loose on a magic carpet of fur. Time to ride!

We usually start off our sessions at a brisk rack for a couple laps, til Dixie calms down and decides to try to listen and cooperate. Yesterday, we started off at a brisk canter. We got in a huge fight about whether or not she'd get to canter wildly, then I decided I didn't want to have that particular fight. I let her go.

We cantered around the indoor for about 15 minutes. The first three times she tried to slow down, I goosed her back up into a canter. You want to run? LET'S RUN. Eventually when I figured she'd gotten my point, I asked her to slow down and she very politely did.

We rode around for another 30 or 45 minutes. There's so many things I need to work on, but I don't feel like I know enough to do them properly, or I only know what I want and not how to get it. Pretty depressing. I kept riding anyway, trying to keep pushing her forward with my legs, keep her straight except for when I wanted her to bend, find some contact. At one point she finally wanted to stretch her neck out and down, so I let her stretch out as we walked. Then I very very carefully picked the contact back up and very carefully brought up the energy in my legs. We got a really nice active walk on the bit! We! Me and Dixie! Wheeeee!

I quit on that high note. I still don't feel like I have much of a clue about what I'm doing, but... that was nice.

I turned Dixie back out to roll and grabbed Champ. I was planning on taking pics of his hooves and trimming them a bit, but I haven't found my trimming gloves. I've been trimming for like two years now, surely I won't rasp my hands, right? Wrong. I got both front hooves rolled before I rasped my poor middle finger knuckle. Blood everywhere. I got blood all over my jeans trying to get it to stop, and I almost bled all over the camera before I gave up and wrapped it in a piece of napkin and some vet wrap.

Today I went back for vengeance. Champ did not make me rasp my knuckle - only my clumsiness did that - but he didn't exactly make it easy for me to succeed. He kept yanking his hooves away and whinnying for Dixie, so I was trying to hold his hoof on the stand and put my finger in the path of the rasp. Hmph. So I went in today to make him sweat for my poor finger.

We did w/t circles for a while, then I decided I wanted to try Champ in the snaffle again. I swapped out his bridle for Dixie's and maaaaan he was pissed. But he listened fine! More w/t circles, with me trying to get a canter out of him and no luck at all. He doesn't really canter, he just switches from a very fast trot to a full gallop. I'd really like to have a canter. Yet another thing I don't really know how to teach my horses. :(

Not a washing machine in sight

Picture time!

Yesterday I attacked the yaks again. A pretty horse appears to be emerging from the white yak.


I would estimate that this is one average cat, or perhaps a throw pillow, of shedded hair.


Today I took Champ on an 11.5 mile ride. That's what Google Earth says, anyway. My legs definitely believe it - my poor knees hurt so bad.

It's such pretty country!


Only about 2.5 miles of the trip was on the actual state park trails. They are so PROFESSIONAL! There's signs, and gravel in spots, and really sturdy bridges.


It's like going back in time. The grass is just now starting to turn green, and the trees are barely thinking about budding out. Back in MS, the early trees are probably leafed out.


But! I did not see a single washing machine! No dead cars, or even car parts. No bullet holes in trees. Pretty cool.

More pictures here. Too tired and sore to write much. Tomorrow - unless I just can't walk - is dressage day with Dixie.

Yaks and newscasters

Every spring, it seems like a neverending battle to get the yak hair off of my horses. It's fun, of course - it really appeals to my OCD side to get all the hair off. I got, mmmm, how does one measure the volume of shed hair off of an animal? I got a half a pillowcase full off of Champ, and maybe half that off of Dixie.

Then I had a challenging ride on Dixie in the indoor. She's still settling in, so she screamed for Champ quite a bit. And she wouldn't stand still for me to get a toe in the stirrup for like 10 minutes. And she was having no part of the bit - she tossed her head and yanked at the reins and tried to run through my rein aids, for the whole hour.

But! She listened perfectly to my legs and seat. I mean perfectly. Something clicked since that lesson last month where I tried so hard to show her to move away from my inside leg. And we are finally starting to get the hang of half-halts and halts, the dressagey way.

After I was done riding, I talked to one of the other boarders for a bit. She's got the Other Walking Horses, and she seems pretty nice. At one point, I was talking about Dixie, and I said "She's kinda crazy, but I love her to pieces."

"Excuse me? Did you said you love her... paces?" asked the Other Walking Horse Person.

"No, to PIECES! You know, little pieces?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, it's just, you know, your accent..." the OWHP trailed off, slightly embarrassed that she couldn't understand me.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed. "Yall all sound like newscasters or something."

We laughed and went our separate ways. But that's just one of the things that's so weird about this place. Everybody has the most neutral accent imaginable! And they're very polite, in a very reserved way. Strange place.

I took some pictures but I didn't bring the camera in, so yall will just have to wait.

Seven miles!

I looked carefully at the map, wrote down the few turns, and decided to ride Champ over to the nearby state park. (It has bridle trails specifically for horses to ride on, wonder of wonders!) It looked like a good distance but actually bothering to check the mileage would have been uncharacteristic of me. Champ hasn't been out on a good long ride in at least 3 weeks, so I decided we'd just scout over to the park and turn around when we got there.

I wore my pretty boots, the ones I'd found in the back of the closet when we moved. When I found them, I briefly wondered why I hadn't been wearing them, but decided it was because they're way too wide. They're not all that comfortable to walk in, but they seem to be fine for riding.

Headed out to the barn and caught my handsome steed. He is still shedding like mad, and I got an enormous amount of hair off of him. He screamed the whole time I was grooming him. Uh-oh, it's going to be Gelding Separation Anxiety Day. Nonetheless, we tacked up and headed out.

Champ behaved fairly well getting out of the driveway and down the main road 100 feet to the small road we were going to take to the park. Once he realized I was serious and we were really Going Somewhere, he started screaming again. Champ has always had a strange hoarse voice. His nickers sound almost normal, just a little husky and low pitched, but his whinneys and screams are no louder than a person speaking quietly. All in all, I suppose that's a good thing. He screamed almost nonstop for the first mile of our trip, and intermittently the entire rest of the time.

And he trotted. There was no other speed available - either he was going to trot, or if I attempted to rate his speed he was going to stop dead and try to spin around. Well fine, you old beast, we'll trot! We trotted - and I posted - what turned out to be 3.5 miles down the most lovely country road you've ever seen in your life.

I think the big difference between Ohio and MS/TN country is that Ohio was divided into much smaller farms at the beginning. There's all these little country roads, with little farms maybe 1/2 or 1/4 mile apart from each other. Little barn, little front paddock, BIG HONKIN HOUSE, some fields. It's not all unchanged since the 1800s, of course, and there's often a series of newer houses in between the old farm houses. Kids' houses, I imagine.

In the South, the land was mainly set out in amazingly large plots for the plantation owners. There are still many plots of thousands of acres, with no road access to the interior, owned by one family.

Anyway. This is corn country, apparently. (No cotton. What a strange thought - a spring without seeing cotton flowers, a summer without fields of white fluff, an August without huge bales of cotton on the roadside.) Couple of the fields had the little signs advertising their strain of corn (I think of them as "Proudly owned by Monsanto!" signs). Almost all the fences were in good repair, mostly cattle wire with a strand of barbed wire at the top. We saw a flock of sheep, of all things, chilling out in a paddock. Two fields of horses. Couple fields of cows. Couple of barking dogs defending their yards. About 5 homeowners burning brush in their yards.

And about a mile down the road I suddenly remembered why I didn't wear those damn boots anymore. They were rubbing my calves raw. I decided to take this as an opportunity to work on my leg position - if my calves weren't swinging all over the place, the evil boots couldn't rub the flesh off of them, right? So I posted down the road, hands steady, elbows open, legs gently but firmly wrapped around my horse.

We got all the way to the last big road to cross before the park entrance and turned around. Champ was sweating some but not blown, but I'm not on a deadline. The park will still be there tomorrow. We turned around and fought about our speed for a bit. I don't mind trotting away from home - it keeps us moving at a good pace, and it's good exercise for me - but dammit, we are going to walk or gait home.

Our ride home was beautiful and relaxing, except that I couldn't relax entirely or my leg (which I was sure was bleeding) would rub against the Boot From Hell. So instead of slouching home cowboy style I had to actually ride home like a real equestrian. Hrmph.

Champ's nightmare wasn't even over when we got back to the barn. The BO and family were bringing all the horses in for their PM meal/snack, but Champ was hot and we wanted him to go outside, roll, cool off, drink some water, etc. So I put Champ back out in his paddock right as Dixie was led in. Poor guy.

Oh, and poor ME - that stupid boot rubbed a totally gross looking blister on my calf. It's only the size of a dime but it's seriously gross. Must wear half chaps today.

I'm pretty laid back about his anxiety because this is the third time I've seen it. When all four horses moved from Frayser to Como, I noticed he stayed extra close to Silky at first, and he'd scream his poor head off when I'd ride him around the fields. Then when we all went to Olive Branch, he was the same way - jiggy and screaming for the first couple weeks riding in the new place. Now Ohio, with a new marefriend, and jiggy screaming. This too shall pass!

I suppose I shall go do the Enormous Horse Meme now!

Happy horses!

Rode Dixie for about an hour in the indoor arena. (INDOOR ARENA. Can't stop saying that. Me, in an INDOOR ARENA. Woah!) I snuck the dressage whip with me - tucked it under my belt before I climbed on. There is no getting on her while holding a whip - if it's hidden away somewhere, or if someone hands it to me while I'm on, she's ok but wary. If I hold a whip and try to get on, I can forget about it.

We racked around at top speed for about 10 minutes, which is about what I expected. Scary new place! Arena! Must gait fast! Then she calmed down and started listening. We are both about 3 steps back from where we were 6 weeks ago - I had to think about my hands and my seat and all that stuff, and she doesn't want to bend at all. I got my contact right, she gave to the bit a little, we were both happy. And I got a bit of a faster but still relaxed walk out of her, several times. I'm happy.

Champ was Not Happy. He seems to have completely forgotten Silky, which is really good - it would've broken my heart if he was visibly moping around and mourning her. I don't think horses are wired to remember the past the same way we are. Anyway, Dixie is Champ's New Mare and he gets rather distraught when I take her away. Or maybe he gets rather distraught that I'm riding her instead of him? It's not a big deal if I take him, but he does a bit of pacing and screaming when I take her. But he's a big boy and he'll live.

He has some icky dandruffy crud on his neck, under the Place Where He's Going Bald. Not sure what to do there. Should I ignore it and see if it improves with the new hay/grain? Put something topical on it, like I dunno, Bag Balm or aloe? Yell at him for being scruffy?

Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and 60s. I think I will ride Champ on the back roads over to the nearest park. Not sure if the park's open or rideable right now, but it'll be fun riding on the roads either way.

Not as bad as I thought!

I rode, yippee!

First I dragged my stuff into a slot in a tack room. This means that for the first time in almost a year my saddle is not upside down in the back seat of my truck. I will not know what to do with all the space! Can't find my brush, though, but I did find a rubber currycomb so I just whacked the mud and some of the hair off the horses with that. Oh well.

I got Champ first. I let him look at the arena for a couple minutes, then we went in and walked around for maybe 10 minutes. There was a lesson of some kind, kids jumping a little 12" jump with an instructor. Didn't pay much attention to them. They weren't young Olympians but they weren't horrible either. I was the only one walking calmly around on a loose rein in a Western saddle, but I actually didn't feel at all self-conscious. Champ kept making a weird sound of some kind - almost a cough, almost a whinny, I dunno. I suspect it was just an almost-whinney, and he has a really deep hoarse voice to begin with. Anyway, the kids were zooming around us and I didn't intend to work him today, so we walked til he got bored, then we trotted one lap, then we walked one lap, then we were done.

Touching Dixie makes a blizzard of white hair. I scrubbed some loose hair off her butt, but I didn't bother to try to strip ever last loose hair out. It'll fall out eventually, and it might get cold next week, and it doesn't bother me too much. Then off we went to the arena. The jumping kids had cleared out, thankfully, cause Dixie did not want to stand still for me to mount. Then she just wanted to rack around at top speed. It was a pretty nice rack, and she didn't try to canter, so it's all good. Again, I didn't work Dixie too hard. I just wanted both of them to see what this new scary arena is like.

Oh, and I met some lady who is a member of the local trail riding association, too - she rides TWH/SSHs, trail rides seriously, seemed nice enough.

When I headed home, I found my poor husband standing outside in his sock feet, holding Cersei on a leash. He'd taken her out the back patio door and the bar fell down, locking him out and his keys and cell phone in. He'd gotten locked out right about the time I headed home, so at least it was the minimum possible time. Poor guy!

Tinky Winky is still above our fireplace.

They're on the road!

The nice fellow from Triple H met us at the truck stop and my brave horses are headed to Ohio. They looked pretty weirded out about the whole thing, but I'm quite sure I'm projecting. I have been a nervous wreck all day and I am only slightly less nervous now.



Off to say goodbye to my parents, then finish cleaning. Tomorrow we pack and drive!

WOO HOO!

Had a really nice Last Sunday at the field. We all went fishing, but nobody caught much of anything. Well, I think each of us caught at least one fish, but they weren't very big and we were just fishing for the hell of it so we threw them all back.

Then we headed back up to the horse field and I decided to trim my horses. (My two horses. Feels so weird only having two - I'd just finally gotten used to "only" having three.) Champ was a breeze to work on, of course, and I just took a bit off of his inner rear heels and a bit off of the high front heel. Then I got Dixie.

Dixie is the devil's own child to trim. I've always gotten it done, but it always ends with both of us incredibly angry at each other. Well, this time I had a huge bag of her favoritest homemade horse treats, and I just stayed really patient and c/t'd really frequently. And I mean really frequently - I'd pick up a foot, nip one time, put it down, c/t. She was still not really keen on the idea but neither of us got mad and I got done what I wanted to get done. WOO HOO!

I really need to take good pics of her feet and ask Mrs. Mom what she thinks. They look pretty good, but they are still long. And not "long walls," just "long feet." It's kinda weird. Welp, she's not lame and we're making progress!

I have GOT to pack my kitchen tonight. I hate packing kitchen stuff. I love cooking and I love a well organized kitchen and I just really hate trying to find a box to hold the rolling pin and a box for the cutting board and where am I going to put the knives and what about the glasses, ARGH.

The mating call of the Terror Bird

Yeah, I did it again. Earlier this week I mentioned to someone how Champ is completely bombproof, so today he proved me wrong.

I've been (of course) super busy with all the little stuff to arrange to move. Today was the first day I actually got to spend time with my horses. At least it was a lovely day, about 60 and overcast when I went out.

I saddled my reluctant gelding and we moseyed away down the trail. All was going pretty well until the mating cry of the terror bird, when he spun 180 degrees and tried to bolt. I spun him back around and he JIGGED down the trail. He actually jigged! He never jigs; it's entirely too much work, but damn if he didn't do it today.

In case you were wondering, Terror Birds sound a lot like ducks or something. I don't know much about birdcalls, but no NORMAL bird could've freaked out my dearest Champ like that.

Anyway, we rode everywhere I wanted to go and made it back safe. Then I worked with Dixie a bit - picking up feet and letting me groom her without dancing around like I am stabbing her. She did very well!

Moving:
Found a new barn, very near where we're going to get an apartment, reasonable rates. Found (thanks Paige!) a shipper, waiting to hear back when they can fit me in. Got a crapload of boxes and all of our nonessential stuff is already boxed. (Not that most of it ever got UNBOXED, but whatever.) U-haul is reserved, for what that's worth.

Tomorrow or Monday I'll get health certs and rabies shots for the horses. The vet recommended Benadryl instead of Valium for the cats, and god knows I always have benadryl on hand. I need to meet up with Stephen and dispose of the rest of the stuff in our shared ministorage. He said he'll build me a box for the tv, too - we don't have the original box for the TV, and it's a big ole widescreen LCD HD TV. Hard to pack it without scratching it or breaking the whateveritis that makes the pixels light up. And tomorrow my new spare tire winch thing should come in, so I can install that and get the damn spare tire out of the bed of my truck. FINALLY.

I think I am going to cancel my lesson on Sunday. I haven't done jack with Dixie and I don't know if I even have time to ride her tomorrow or Saturday. My mind isn't really on dressage right now.

Worms, videos, clicks

I was a week behind my normal schedule, but I got everybody dewormed with pyrantel pamoate. I used the traditional method of luring the horses to me with their usual handful of grain, sticking a halter on each horse, and hanging off the noseband while I convinced each appalled horse that YES, I really WAS going to violate the victim's personal integrity in such a horrid fashion. Then everybody got grain and completely forgave me.

It sounds like I'm making light of alternative horse handling methods, but I'm not, really. I'm lucky that none of my horses actually act violent about dewormer or are terrified of it. It's more like I'm extremely amused by my horses' individual drama queen reactions to the hated wormer.

Champ, who is normally the calmest horse in the universe and puts up with any weird thing I want to do to him, flips his nose up and down as fast possible til I get mad and cuss him. Once I get the dewormer tube in his mouth, he starts actively trying to spit the paste out as fast as I deposit it on his tongue. As soon as the grain appears, he completely forgives me.

Silky is appalled that I am invading her old-lady dignity in such a horrid fashion. She stands perfectly still, but clamps her lips shut as tightly as possible. It's like trying to feed a three year old kid her least favorite food - except I have a syringe, instead of a spoon, so I win. Again, once the halter comes off and the cookies appear, she's back to being a quiet and respectful pocket pony.

Dixie seethes with barely controlled rage. Her ears alternate between pinned-back and focused on me, like she flipflops between "I will kill you for this!" and "Oh wait it's the boss human!" She actually never left all afternoon - she was caught, dewormed, and fed some grain. Then she hung around hopefully until I broke out the clicker, and after I was done clickering her she hung around a little longer to watch me and Poppy.

Since Dixie had gotten over her snit so quickly, I decided to clicker clean her feet again today. IceRyder had asked for video of it, and I tried to oblige. However, my skills at wiring a camera to a round pen panel are somewhat lacking and it's really not all that great. I uploaded it anyway, as proof of how good Dixie was about the whole thing, and how amazingly effective clicker training is.


Dixie clicker training feet from Funder on Vimeo.

The people talking are me and K, Poppy's new owner. The periodic "earthquakes" happen when the dogs, Cersei and Lucky, run under that round pen panel to get in or out of the pen. And apparently my camera only takes 3 minute videos, so yall missed the last hoof cleaning.

I know, I need to wear a belt.

Clicker stuff: I think it's fascinating how Dixie has her ears pinned almost constantly. She really doesn't like for any creature to touch her anywhere under any circumstances, except for humans offering her treats directly under her nose. Well, and she does seem to like me - whenever I offer her the halter, she sticks her nose in it, and she leads great, and whenever I look at her she's got pretty ears. Apparently not when I'm picking her feet! But look at those ears pop forward whenever she hears a click.

For a cue, I'm tap-tap-tapping with a finger on the lower part of the leg I want. It's clear and not painful. When I started her near side, I started adding the "up" verbal cue. I really prefer a verbal cue for foot lifting - it's kind of sweet yet annoying when the horse keeps picking its hoof up for you when you only want to brush off its muddy legs or trim its feathers. I'll keep doing both the tap and the verbal cue for a while, then try to fade the tap.

I'm planning on adding trimming next. I'll bring my makeshift hoof stand out and see if I can't get a second of duration when I put a front foot on the stand. I think trimming should progress almost as fast as cleaning has... I hope!

Clicker people, any critiques or suggestions?

And here's a video from earlier this week, when I was trail riding on Champ. This is the fishing lake, and it's my second favorite of the seven lakes. I think it's just gorgeous out there.


Trail ride, fishing lake from Funder on Vimeo.

My Champion :3

Hmm. I just realized yall might not know what the :3 smiley face looks like - it's this!


Anyway. This is a Champ Update. Sunday his former owner called me! I've been meaning to call him and let him know I've still got Champ and I still <3 him and he's still a good horse, but you know how that goes. Mr. Delbert called me first! He just wanted to see how we were doing and remind me that Champ's birthday is March 1. My silly gelding is going to be sixteen! I mailed him some Christmas parade pictures today. He'll like them, I think!

Yesterday, my knee still hurt from all that "move away from my inside leg" dressage Sunday, so I went on a nice long trail ride with Champ. He was fantastic - very alert but calm, happy to w/g/t/c when I asked. The footing was absolutely perfect so I let him canter a few times - he always wants to run up hills in the woods, because there are Lions in the Woods and because it's easier to get some momentum to get up the ravines. I usually insist he walk them, but like I said the ground was perfect so we went tear-assing through the forest. WHEEE!

We are not yet ready to do eventing, though. He asked to gallop down a flat section of trail that we've been on a million times, so I let him. We got to the turn in the trail and he didn't want to slow down and I didn't think we'd die, so I let him rip through it, but he kind of forgot where the ruts were and had to do a crazy damn sideways full-speed leap to the left while I ducked under the branches and screeeeeamed like a girl. We cantered-then-galloped a couple other times - we are not good with rating speed.

I will say this - my seat is way better, and that horse is phenomenally surefooted.

And speaking of feet, here's a bunch of pictures of Champ's feet. I think his frogs look better? And I think the club foot / long toe thing is improving. I've been whittling away at them whenever I think about it, maybe once a week. And I've been picking them out every time I remember, which is maybe 4x a week - it really does help, Michelle. Thank you!

As always, I welcome comments, critiques, and suggestions. And if you click on the pictures, they'll open in Flickr and you can see the bigger versions.

From the side, it looks like the left was clubby/upright and the right was underrun/long toes. He's not standing square here, but at least you can see the general shape of them (and how unflared they are!) Looks like I've got the left front heel as short as it can be right now.




Left front solar and left front, uh, heel view. His front heels are pretty even, medially/laterally. Also note my chewed-off boot toe - thank you Cersei! (She was a quite good puppy, and the toe of my boot is one of the few casualties of her teething phase.)


Here's right front solar and right front heel. The right side pictures are much worse, because the camera button can only be pressed by one's right finger and the right hand is busy holding up the horse's right leg, etc. Anyway, the "heel" shot isn't straight, obviously.


My horse is so laidback that I did not hesitate to set the camera on the ground between his feet for these shots. Here's the rear left - look how it's more flared on the outside than the inside. I think (with the usual "I am not an expert" disclaimer) that it's flared outside because of his conformation - he is pretty cowhocked, so he stands more on the insides of his rear feet than the outside. Therefore the outside grows and flares, because the force of his body is pressing more toward the inside. Make sense?

Probably not. Anyway! Left rear floor shots:


I've gotten his inside rear heels down as far as they'll go right now.


Solar looks wonky and unbalanced, though. Look at how the medial (inside) part of the sole is so much narrower than the lateral (outside) part! Even if you assume 1/8" of the lateral is flared sole, it's still all wonky.


Due to the aforementioned difficulties of holding up a right leg and taking a picture, I didn't shoot the right rear. It's about the same as the left, though - wider laterally than medially, with heels that want to grow high medially. I'm going to keep dealing with his rear feet the same way - keep on top of the medial heels, stay out of live sole, make sure he's still comfortable and sound with what I'm doing.

Here's his blue cloud.


I dunno. It's been like that since before I got him, and it doesn't seem to bother him. It's pretty, but it's probably a scar from some mishap in his younger days.

I sure do love that fugly bay horse.