he threw a shoe

so the horse i don't ride threw a shoe, ensuring that i won't be riding for a while. the farrier might have been and gone all ready, so it may be a moot point. but i'll make it nonetheless.

i rang my friend yesterday as i sat at home with my girl and had nothing but time on my hands (a rare occurrence). she invited us over, and it was a wonderful time. but today, we go to the farm and spend the day doing whatever pleases us.

i have been reading a lot about riding, and i hope to ride again sometime, but i'm not doing it for ego reasons, and i've felt, if i'm not in the right place, especially with a horse not my own, i will be more of a problem for the horse than he needs, so i've refrained.

my daughter is bummed, but i think if one can hardly focus due to exhaustion, they have no right being on the back of a creature that requires total focus. it just sounds like a dangerous equation to me.

so i don't ride. i walk with them. i visit them in their paddocks. i still muck their stalls and feed them. i think my girl is getting closer to where she could own a horse responsibly, but i'm not yet satisfied that it would not become more work for me by default.

she's made great strides, i'll give her that. she can carry half buckets of water now, and often does without complaint. she overheard my, if you complain, you can't handle the work comment, some weeks back. and has stopped, for the most part, complaining.

she realizes it's a gift, all of it.

when we stand with our respective horses grazing in the field, she wraps her arms around the neck of her newest favorite who has proud arabian tendencies. he's quite a pretty bay, bright and trusting. he has a crooked smile and a standy uppy mane. he lets me groom him without balking like velvet and i appreciate that.

i use the comb pretty well on him because he's so gracious. then, we get to bathe him and graze him in the sun until he dries, glistening in the sun.

but my girl leans her whole body up against the horse and i can see he's supporting all her weight because she stands on the back of her heels like my sister used to (she snapped more high heels that way, a feat i've never seen repeated).

and i stand beside the horse, but it's hard not to touch. everything about the horse's trusting you cries out for touch. the way the neck muscles ripple when they drink, the mottled spots on the chestnut body. the patient watching and waiting while you finish appointed tasks.

his shoe is gone. and i'm glad i don't have the pressure of riding. my sack of potatoes approach needs work i'm not up to right now. but i'm doing lots of reading in preparation, and hope the return will be timely.