Hoof Blogs

Flossie's 197th Lesson

FLOSSIE'S 197th LESSON

Norm had planned to sleep in this morning since he had the morning off, the only one he’ll have for a long time now, but he only slept in for about a half hour longer than usual, so I wasn’t too late in getting to Des’ after all as I had first thought I would be.

I had his entire place totally to myself! Billy had to work this morning, so after feeding his horses, he left, stating that he’d be coming back in the afternoon to work them. He was just about the only person I saw all morning. Sharon, a friend of Gary’s, was down after my ride, briefly, to feed their horses, but she was there only long enough for us to say hello to each other.

Oh, when I was riding, there was a guy on the new road that’s just going in next to Des’ track. We said a few words to each other, so I guess he counts, too. That took place towards the middle of my ride.

I didn’t walk Flossie around the track on foot before I mounted, as I had been doing in the recent past, so when she stopped near the road, I got off and led her back and forth along the fence. Once we got that out of the way, I got back on and I worked her at a good clip three times around at a brisk trot and then, later, at an equally brisk canter. I was able to work her in both directions that way.

It was while we were in the middle of a nice working trot when we spied the guy I mentioned before, on the road. He had two medium-sized dogs with him, and was crouched down, holding them back, and talking quietly to them. Flossie knew they were there, but she kept trotting past, anyway, as if they were nothing unusual.

However, the second time around the guy had moved to another location and was no longer in a crouched position. Flossie stopped dead and after doing everything I could to get her going, to no avail, I dismounted and walked her past the guy. Then I got on again and she never stopped again.

Later, I took her to the corner where I like to circle her. Everything was going well until a dog popped out of nowhere and started running alongside the fence where the old barn is next to Des’ property, barking at us with every stride. It was one of the dogs I had seen with the guy whom I had seen earlier. I waved my crop in the air at him and yelled, “Get out of here! Go, get!” The dog turned and bolted, running up the street and out of sight as fast as its medium-lengthed legs would allow him, as if he had just seen a ticket to Viet Nam with his name on it.

After a few more laps around the circle, the guy came up to the fence to apologize for his dog’s behavior. I told him how I yelled at the dog and scared if off and that it didn’t worry me. He assured me the dog wouldn’t have bitten me, or Flossie, and again I told him I wasn’t worried about it. It certainly didn’t worry Flossie. She never reacted to the dog at all. She was more concerned about the guy than she was about the over-rambunctious dog. Anyway, the dog didn’t bother me in the least. I took the experience as part of Flossie’s training and let it go at that. If she had been a young horse, just starting out, it might have been an entirely different story.

I put some dressing on Flossie’s front feet only today because they’re getting dry. When I was done grooming and everyone had their fair share of the carrots I had brought down with me, Flossie meandered over to the pony and stuck the entire length of her neck into his pen. She started ‘vacuuming’ up the bits and pieces of hay and oats that were disseminated around the ground near its feed trough. Obviously Pat didn’t have the electric strip turned on. It’s too bad, because when the pony got in the way of Flossie’s ‘hose’, she promptly bit him on the butt.

The track was in marvelous shape today. The area in the bend by the rail road track had just a trickle of mud in just one tiny spot. Everything else was dry, dry, dry. Too bad it’s going to rain tonight, and then tomorrow, which is Tuesday, then Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, too. The sky is already starting to cloud up with that blurry, water color look that always means rain.

Oh well, nothing gold, including sunny weather, and dry tracks, can stay.