Unexpected Excellence

For so long, this blog has solely been about Archie - I mean, if it's going to be about a horse.  And then there was a little sprinkling of other horses - the palomino hony, the gaited golden tank, the dark jackass I jumped that one time - before having more about the wunder jumper, Ox.

But I have to acknowledge that Whiskey will take a greater role than any of the other non-Archie horses.  That to write about him, to love him, does not diminish from the attachment I feel for Archie.  And, to equally acknowledge that I made huge mistakes when I was training Archie, which I will try my damnedest not to make with Whiskey.

So while I want to take my previously-anhidrotic, now-kinda-sweaty Appy off to crookedly gallop fences, we're walking.  I'm pleased that we're walking, because it means my ass made it to the saddle.

When Ox's owner asked if I would be up for a trail ride on Sunday and when she told me that it would just be us, I immediately was flummoxed.  I haven't done much with Whiskey lately, other than shove treats in his face and treat his rain rot, but could I ride him on a trail ride?

Well, why the fuck not?  To bastardize a quote from Denny Emerson, you can't kill a horse by walking.

And my horse was a saint.  Want me to lead?  Sure.  Want me to follow?  Sure.  Want me to walk side-by-side?  Sure.  Wanna trot?  Sure.  Want me to stand while the draft cross catches up?  Sure.  Did that draft cross just spook at something?  Silly.  OH SHIT,... oh.  I didn't even stop talking when he spooked.

I think his ears are tiny for his head.

 After five and a half miles in nearly two hours on Whiskey, we took Ox and Whiskey back to the barn and stuffed their faces with treats and cleaned them up before turning them back out.

He whinnies back at the All Ears app.

And then we tacked up Archie and her palomino hony for another trail ride around the property, complete with sinking into muddy spots we didn't know existed and Archie believing that his foot was trapped by a root to the point that I had to dismount and help him.  Oh, and a little gallop next to the dirt road.

It was a pony-filled day with very few goals set and just a lot of happiness.  I'm thrilled.

So I bought the guy a new saddle that I'm going to dye to match his Micklem.  And a new bit that I'm going to kinda-sorta use.  It's a low-port Kimberwick.  I don't think he needs the Kimberwick part of it and I won't even bother with the chain, I was mostly interested in seeing how he likes a low-port versus his double-jointed rolling Happy Mouth.  Am I mistaken in thinking that most Western bits are solid?
Orange you glad to see me?
We've also started looking for a puppy.  I define puppy as anything under two, because what we want is a large breed that can keep up with Birgette and Savannah.  I've started reaching out specifically to German Shepherd rescues and it seems like everyone I'm interested in gets adopted almost immediately.  We did meet a puppy locally that was defined as a rott cross, but we were catfished.  And then we met another GSD at the humane society, but he tried to eat me and the handler had to deftly grab his leg before he bit.  So the search continues.

His ad.

He got adopted that day.

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  1. Aw glad you're finding things to enjoy. Whiskey is such a unique looking guy--so glad he has someone like you to appreciate him.

  2. It sounds like a good day. Good luck in finding your new dog.

  3. Hahaha, Stan neighs back to the AllEarsApp, too. Cracks me up.