Hoof Blogs

Flossie's 176th Lesson

FLOSSIE'S 176th LESSON

I took it easy on Flossie today for three reasons. First of all, it’s only been four
days since I worked her last, secondly, it was muggy and humid, and third of all she gets
stressed out with all the commotion that’s going on around her these days. She’s still
having to work past those earth diggers for me. Not only is the power shovel going all
out, but now the road roller and the bulldozer are roaring back and forth as well.
Although Flossie only flinches the first time I have her pass by, her nerves are being
tried every step of the way.

Even the mud is interfering with our normal routine (and because we get some showers
every day, the mud is there to stay, I’m afraid). Also, Glenco Girl, Dave’s mare, is a
real cayuse. She attacks us, mouth open, ears pinned, when we approach, which, in turn
stirs Bambi up, which, in turn affects Flossie. I crack my long crop at the mares and
yell until they turn away. So I didn’t work Flossie as long nor as hard as usual today.
Consequently, she didn’t get nearly as warm as she has been lately. I didn’t even bother
to cool her out in the shade. I just walked her around more.

After our work on the track, instead of circling in the corner of the paddock as usual, I
opted for working in the ‘arena’, which I haven’t done in a very long time. I had her
doing serpentines, circles in every corner, and figure eights. The review turned out to
be a good thing because she acted as though we’ve never done these things before and she
used to be really good at them.

It’s funny how the people working the vehicles in the road next to the paddock upset
Flossie more than their great big giant machines do! When she sees them congregating on
foot, she tries to spin around and take off in the opposite direction. I don’t let her
do that, of course, but it’s her first response. People, of all things! The machines
bother her when they’re coming towards her, but the people can be yards away, just
standing around, and she comes unglued.

Although showers were in the forecast for this morning, a lot of the time the sky was
marbled with dark and light clouds. Most of the time they weren’t threatening. It
didn’t rain until I had taken Flossie down the driveway. Just as we were heading back
towards Des’ front yard, the rain started falling so I took her under the trees and
together we waited for the rain to stop. It was neither too hot nor too cold, so the
rain was tolerable.

I never bother to phone Des anymore about the condition of the track before I make a
decision about riding because I already know the track is muddy. I’ve been taking my
chances with the rain as well. If I waited for a dry forecast, I wouldn’t be riding.

After I had groomed Flossie and she had finished her carrots, I took her into the shed
row (the little patch of land that runs between the stalls where Billy keeps his horses)
and let her graze for fifteen minutes on the tall, rich green grass that grows there. It
was hard to get her away from it. She tore through that grass like there was no
tomorrow.

That’s all I have for today so I’ll head out towards the sunset, my mind still in the
saddle, my fingers on the frets, (I always imagined myself strumming a guitar while
riding into the sunset when I was a kid) and this saying ringing through my ears: “Life
begins at 14.2 hands.”