To ride dressage is to dance with your horse, equal partners in the delicate and sometimes difficult work of creating harmony and beauty.

Monday, March 9, 2020

The mountain and the molehill

When I am working with Stella, I don't think of her as particularly small ('slight,' yes, but not short). However, when I move over to Lance's stall to groom and tack him up, he seems like a mountain – a giant, red MESA of a horse. I rarely think of him as my big, red goober anymore, because it seems like his 'goober-ness' is gone along with his energy. His bloodwork is normal and his breathing isn't particularly labored right now; I'm going to try giving him a couple grams of bute a couple hours before a ride. If that makes him feel markedly different, then his lethargy must be due to discomfort, probably from the arthritis in his neck and maybe his S/I. That would present an ethical question, but I will cross that bridge if it presents itself. In the meantime, I try to get him out often for an easy 30-minute ride; last night it was during a lovely sunset:

Earlier I went down to turn Stella out to play, and found her like this:
With her long tail over her crossed back legs and the lovely turn of her neck and head, I think she looks like a lounge singer, the sexy beast. I am also gratified to see some roundness to those hip bones; she was much more angular when she came here.

Here are some photos I took of her last week:

There's not much else to report; I continue to work on gaining her trust and building our partnership.