Given the rock-hard footing of my frozen arena and no thaw in sight, Sylvia and I decided I might as well haul Horton back to her barn where he could actually stay active. I took my tack along so I could ride him "at the scene of his crimes," hopefully demonstrating the progress he's made. I have to admit that I wondered how he would act; would he remember that he unloaded people to get out of work there? Well, not only did Horton do me proud, Rick came along to watch how he's moving and reported that he looked more relaxed and fluid, with his tail centered, than he's ever seen him move before! Huzzah! I'm going back up this afternoon to ride him again, just to help keep the good times rolling.
Speaking of rolling, I figured since I had the trailer hitched, I might as well roll on down the road and pick up Lance last night. As we gathered up his feed, the barn owner regaled us with his antics. "He's SUCH a brat!" she said over and over, laughing with delight. (She said she loves his type of personality.)
When we got him home, he and Sam met quietly over the pole gate dividing their paddocks, and Lance discovered the battered gallon milk jug hanging in his stall. We put it there for my Morgan over a decade ago, and Brian had never seen a horse play with it – until last night. Yes, I have a big, playful puppy of a horse – and just like a BIG, playful puppy, he will have to learn some manners and self-control! Now to get his stall plate ordered. Call me trepidatious, but I didn't want to take that step until I actually saw that cute face hanging over the stall door!