What if life gives you lemonade?

I feel like I've been handed a giant pitcher of the stuff and I want to drink it all, but can only have one small glass – maybe.

What am I talking about? I'm being asked to lease/train/sell THREE outside horses right now. (Bangs head against a wall.) Why am I being offered something I'd love to do but that isn't possible?

My mom used to tell me about work opportunities, "If someone asks if you can do something, say 'yes' and then figure out how to do it." I want to figure out how to do this; I can't think of a job I'd rather do than to train horses for people. But right now my three-stall barn is full and the majority of my time and energy are consumed with homeschooling my son. I've been trying to figure out how to shoehorn in one outside training project, since I don't know yet if Lance is going to be able to return to dressage training. Three outside training projects? Impossible, it seems to me.

But it is not all up to me. My husband has to be on board with whatever I do, of course. But even more importantly, I need God's direction. If these opportunities are heaven-sent, then God will have to work out the details for me to bring in one or more horses. I'm listening!

Nine inch nails needles

(Actually, the needles are 10 inches long. If photos of medical procedures bother you, proceed through the following pictorial at your own risk!)

Supplies at the ready

The inject sites are clipped and cleaned

Finding the right spot, needle at the ready

Easing it in

The diagonal line on the left is the needle, going in parallel to the bone

Time to do the other side

After the needle is positioned, he injects the steroid

Little wonder that Horton told the farrier this afternoon that his rump is sore to the touch. Tomorrow I'll lunge him lightly in the surcingle, and Thursday Rick says I can start riding him again (if we can find a dry window in which to work). It will be interesting to see if there are any changes in Horton's behavior!

Proceeding with uncertainty

Today I talked to the Morgan's owner. She is no longer interested in a trade, as she would like to reduce her total number of horses (she has two old horses and a herd of miniature horses besides Ritz) rather than maintaining the number. She would consider selling Ritz, but her price is more than I can afford and probably more than the current market would bear.

So I proceeded with Plan B. I called a woman who I think would appreciate Russell and give him a wonderful home for the rest of his life. She owned the stable where Russell was boarded most of his life before I got him, and helped Russell's owner train and show him in OHSET (Oregon High School Equestrian Team). She is now a grandma with an old equine partner who isn't really sound but is safe for her and her baby granddaughter to putz around on. Russell is ten years her horse's junior, more sound, and every bit as safe; a match made in heaven? She seemed pleasantly surprised by my call and offer, and will get back to me after some consideration.

Being poised to rehome Russell with no future dressage partner in sight gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to be horseless; the other three equines here aren't mine, or what I want to work with. And when Brian heard that Russell may be leaving, he actually cried; that didn't help. He's like his dad; he may not USE something, but he can't bear to part with it. I had hoped that Russell might become Brian's mount, but Brian doesn't choose to ride more than once or twice a year. I'm of a mind that horses should be used for optimum mental and physical health. They take considerable resources to keep as well, an investment we can't make lightly.

As long as I have him, Russell and I will continue our daily walks. When I have time I tack him up, as I think a rider's weight is more comfortably distributed by a well-fitted saddle than concentrated on two human seat bones.

Two-timing

Since I had some free time yesterday, I decided to go visit the Morgan. I've held off going again because with Russell's most injury, I didn't know if there was still a chance of a trade. No point in getting attached, right? But now that I am s-l-o-w-l-y beginning to recondition Russell, hope sprang up again. Plus, a few weeks ago I had a conversation with a Morgan breeder. She cautioned that Ritz's sire is known for throwing "tough" horses; not mean, just not very trainable. Although that has not been my impression at all with Ritz, I wanted to interact with him again with that information in mind.

It's been almost three months since I've seen him; he's shed out and gained some needed weight. I interacted with him loose in his stall and paddock, as well as in the cross-ties and out and about on a lead. (I really wanted to ride him, but that would have been foolish with no one around. I don't think he's been ridden in many months, maybe a year.) It was a pleasant visit, and I did not see any hint of the temperament I was warned about.

Now to call Ritz' owner a call to see out if she's still open to considering a trade . . . eventually.

Ritz

This is the young Morgan I hauled last week. I went to visit him today, and take some photos. I'm surprised I held out this long. I'll admit it; I've been smitten with this horse since meeting him over a year ago. But after racking my brain for options, praying, dropping a huge hint in my Christmas card to his owner, I had resigned myself to unrequited love. Then I got that call last week, and ever since I've been fighting the rising hope that he might yet become mine.

It's too early to know yet if Russell is healing up sound enough to be Ritz' owner's trail partner, so that we could trade horses. That hasn't stopped me from thinking of all the back-strengthening exercises I would do with this boy to get him fit to carry a saddle again. I mean, this back
is clearly in need of some serious muscle-building! And this brain
needs confidence-building. But I've been there, done that with Axel (my first Morgan), and we developed the most wonderful relationship. Granted, I got Axel as a yearling and Ritzy is seven years old; I would not be starting at ground zero with Ritz and the relationship would be different. But he has that keen Morgan mind, and those breathtaking Morgan looks....