But I Don't Want to Get Hit By a Tree
Terrible story at the medium's presentation the other night about a girl who went out with the hunt a few Thanksgiving's ago (US National Holiday--last Thursday in November). Apparently a tree uprooted in the wind, hit her in the head and killed her. True story, I fear.
Where does this lead?
This afternoon when I got home, the wind was ripping. It started kicking up as I left school and by the time I was home, it was pretty stiff. My arena is at the edge of the woods. I am never really keen about riding out there in the wind because of that. The horses do get silly, of course, but it can be dangerous just by nature.
I was getting colder too. Nothing overwhelming, but not exactly pleasant.
I've been putting sheets on the Boys at night and this morning I forgot to take them off. Either I was going to have to race home during my hall duty period--after getting someone in power to say it was OK to leave--or, find someone to take care of the Boys for me. Fortunately, I called a friend who lives not too far away. She has had horses all her life and was quite willing to help me out.
When I got home, the Boys were just in their flysheets, enjoying the sunshine. When I called my friend to thank her, she said they were absolutely perfect to handle. Good boys, apparently. She was wise enough to bring some treats so I am sure they were quite pleased to have that kind of attention. She brought a friend with her as well, so that was good.
I often blanket and un-blanket my little herd in the field, so I know they can stand politely for it. I'm glad to know they will stand for someone else besides me.
Reminds me of a funny PJ story from years ago. My farrier came to the barn unannounced one day to shoe PJ. No one was around and the horses were all turned out in a big field. There were a lot of bays as I recall. Apparently, my farrier did not recongnize PJ in the group so he went out and started picking up hoofs until he found the right ones.
I can see him now, checking one horse after another. But the best part was that at the time, PJ was being very difficult to catch. For everyone, apparently, except my farrier, who had no trouble at all finding him and picking up his hoof so he could recognize him.
Well, PJ always said he liked the farriers I've used. He said he great respect for Scott, my current shoer, especially, because he was "Very serious about his work." PJ was a critic, it seems. *G*
May lunge Tuck a few turns at late night feed. I plan on going out a little early to get those sheets on before it gets too cold.