"Pony" is a four-letter word

Today was a “pony” day, said with much disgust and shaking of the head.  We were due for it…she’s been an angel for the past couple of months, but the “pony” part of her personality is never far below the surface.  Today, it was standing up and doing the hula.

*blinks*  Now there’s a mental image for ya.  (All of the costume classes I did, I never gave Mimi the indignity of a hula skirt.  Missed opportunity…)

We cranked out about half an hour of arena work, heavy focus on the trot and canter (and some rider torture in the form of riding without stirrups).  Brought my GPS out , just for kicks, and discovered that we covered about 2 miles with our laps around the arena.  Cool.  Better than nothing, and it is a sand arena.

She wasn’t all bad.  I dusted off the jumping hackamore and got it adjusted properly, and she was working beautifully in it.  Seems to be a great choice for arena work, and she was even softer in it than the S-hack.  She had a fabulous whoa today, too…but that might have had something to do with the fact that she “didn’t wanna work.”  I don’t think it’ll translate over to the trail quite as well, since Ms. Curb-Your-Enthusiasm needs a little bit of a reminder that blasting off at Mach 3 is not on the recommended itinerary.

But I like keeping arena and trail gear separate.  It’s something I’ve done for years, ever since show days: western bit for western classes, kimberwick for english flat classes, snaffle for jumping classes, and hackamore for gymkhana.  So it’s a principle she’s well-versed in: “X means fun, Y means work.”

Worked on her hooves…they’re looking really good right now.  Picture taking fail today, since I was pretty much done in by the time I got around to working on her feet and out of patience for messing with the camera.  Her hooves are slowing down in their growth as her system readjusts to the ever-decreasing amount of daylight and redirects its energies towards growing a fine, fuzzy winter coat.  In 95*.  Proof right there that horse hair growth is controlled by daylight hours, not temperature.  At least I don’t have to worry about clipping her this winter, and the subsequent “to blanket or not to blanket” question.

It was also warm enough for her to get a shower (Horrors…I removed her protective layer of dirt coating!) after we were done, which made for east-trim hooves.  She was thoroughly hacked off that I had the nerve to get her face wet, and proceeded to whip me with her (soaking wet) tail during the rest of the process.  Thanks, pony.

All was well at the end, since she did her spiffy little bowing trick for a carrot.  Never mind that she almost fell over, she was so excited to see a rare, elusive carrot appear before her.  Carrots cure all ills, at least in her mind.

One thought on “"Pony" is a four-letter word

  1. Gotta love ponies.

    I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who differentiates between “fun” and “work” tack although lately, since Mitch has been going so well in his Myler comfort snaffle I've chosen to put it on him all the time. And Jet has her sidepull.

    I love ponies. I was mucking out my corrals, Mitch came ambling over, and I leaning against him rubbing on him, and then kind of hopped up a bit and then draped myself over his back before pulling myself into position and walking him around for a few laps without a bridle. He's improving by leaps and bounds.

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