What happened to December?

Bar and the dumb mud

I started off this month blogging pretty regularly, but something happened, and poof it's been over 6 days since a real blog post. A lot of work, some holiday stuff, but mainly just me not writing. Or riding much, for that matter.

Yesterday was par for the course for this week, with the minor exception that I got to leave work early to meet the vet for vaccinations. What does it mean when you consider an afternoon off to watch someone stick needles in your horse a break? Oh well. Beggars cannot be choosers.

Bar was sorely disappointed when we showed up to the barn yesterday afternoon and all he got was a rabies shot and some grazing before Steve and I headed home to get ready for my office's year-end party.

The Thoroughbred was not amused.

He danced all the way back to his paddock, looking longingly into the nice, dry indoor arena. "But I could roll! And run around without sliding! And buck! And fart, even!!! MOOOOMMMMMMMM!" We got to the top of the hill by his paddock and I sent him around me as he tried to bounce past me. He, slid a little, then backed up--all the way out of my space--and reared, expressing his utter frustration with the lack of movement over the last few days. Then he looped his front leg over his lead rope, as he usually does in this instance, came down to earth and looked at me for help.

He stood calmly and quietly the whole time I was unwrapping him from the lead rope, and I told him I totally and completely understood. Really. Unfortunately there were people riding their quiet horses in the indoor arena and they were not the types to appreciate Thoroughbred exuberance. Especially after it's been cooped up in the rain for two days.

My theory is he is so careful with his footing that he won't really frolic in the mud for fear of slipping, so he stands a lot, doesn't get to lay down as much, and gets itchy under his blanket. During the winter in particular, the time we spend in the round pen always starts with a good roll. Always. I'll even carry the tack and grooming supplies down with me so we don't have to trek back up to our barn in the rain to get saddled, just so he gets his roll in.

I suppose that makes him a little spoiled, but if it were me, a good roll when that blanket comes off seems like a very logical and necessary thing. Plus, if he gets in a thorough dust bath in the beginning, he's not thinking about it when I want him focused on other things--like the little human on his back.

After one more day of rain and no work, he ought to be really fun when he comes out this afternoon. Maybe Bar could be the next Space Shuttle!