|Calabar modeling my helmet|
Okay, I admit it. I barely noticed the helmet after a few minutes. (I wore it, Bar did not.) It also did not in any way make me over-confident, oh helmet nay-sayers of the world. I did have helmet-hair after all was said and done, but I was also--as usual--covered in horse snot, so vanity is really not an issue.
While I was helmeted and not feeling like I could slay dragons, we did more work at the trot and the walk, concentrating on direction changes and staying forward. We also discussed working past the six-furlong-long, spit-the-bit OTTB attention span someone seems to have.
We discuss this often, as you may guess.
"But it's dinner time."
"You had grain already."
"But I didn't get any of my hay. What if Peter forgot me?"
"He didn't forget you and if he did, I'll feed you."
"BUT EVERYONE ELSE IS EATING!!"
"Suck it up and go."
"Fine. But I'm starving. Just so you know. Hard....to......concentrate... think.. blood.. sugar.. is.. dropping..."
"Give me a good trot this direction and we'll call it a night."
"How about this?"
"I said a good trot and you can't stop until I say so."
"FINE. Here? Are you happy now?? Crap! What was that?"
"Nice spin. That was Forrest and Katie and you knew they were there. Again with the trot."
"YOU'RE TORTURING ME!!!!!"
"Right. Again. Now, the other direction."
(I can't share this part because I'm pretty sure it contains curse words not fit for "print.")
"And there we go, thank you for the nice trot!"
"Can I eat NOW?"
"Awesome! I love you!" Smearing of snot on shirt occurs here.
"I love you too, Calabar."