Yesterday was fun.
Sarcasm does not translate to the blog world very well. That sentence should be dripping with sarcasm.
Started with a fight with T about leaving the house at 11:30 instead of 2, so we could save gas on our trip to the barn. We had been invited to dinner with N and R, so planned on going out and staying. T was upset we were leaving so early and it devolved into a fight about spending time with the horse vs spending time on xbox. So not fun.
When I got to the barn, N was ready and waiting (we were late). We decided to work in the outdoor arena, so I groomed Ashke and got the surcingle on him. N tested his back first and sure enough, the boy is sore. I grabbed the lunge line and the side reins, but failed to grab the carriage whip. I released Ashke from the grooming stall and walked to the tack room to grab the whip. Ashke walked to the opening of the tack room and stopped. I extended the reins and tried for the whip. I was about four inches short. I turned back with the intention of using the lunge line to extend my reach and lifted it up in front of me to hook onto Ashke's bridle. He must have thought he was about to be eaten or beaten or some other horrible thing was going to happen to him and he pulled back.
I had his reins in my left hand. When he pulled back it jerked me over the tack truck I was standing behind, knocking me horizontal and then I flew into the stack of bins that was on top of the refrigerator next to the door. Me, the bins, soy bran and beet pulp exploded out of the tack room at my already freaked horse, who continued to try his hardest to head for distant pastures. I crashed down on the bins, cut and bleeding, and finally let go of the reins.
Why is it we absolutely refuse to release the reins, even after we've been injured? What subconscious devil inside us refuses to let go?
I could hear Ashke bolting down the aisle and couldn't find the breath to yell "loose horse". Thankfully, N had just unhooked Cali and they intercepted him. She said his name and he came to a screeching halt. By the time I had untangled my pathetic self (did you catch that I was bleeding? Nice gash on my forearm and gouges on the back of my left hand) Ashke was standing and snorting by the grooming stalls, reins dangling in front of him. I staggered toward him and he snorted one of his "OMG! What is that thing?" snorts and moved like he was going to bolt again. I dropped everything in my hands onto the floor of the barn and said his name.
He was like, "Oh, it's YOU." and let me walk right up to him.
He went back in the grooming stall while N and I cleaned up the mess.
This incident did not help my emotional state. At all. There were tears.
Then we went to the arena and N rode while I tortured Ashke on the lunge line with side reins. I figured out I can't do the side reins too tight at the canter or he cross canters. He also moved without any lameness or hesitancy and was tracking up on both hind feet. He was warm but not hot by the time we were done, so I grabbed my metaphysical balls in both hands and climbed on him bareback.
Well almost. I had the BOT saddle blanket and the surcingle on him, but it was as close to being bareback as I want to get at this point. We walked a lot and even trotted a few steps. I will post video tonight.
After our ride, we changed out waters, fed and went to N's for the afternoon and stayed through dinner. It was very tasty. Blue Bell Banana Split ice cream is very yummy.
It was almost ten by the time we made it home. That was too long of a time. The puppies had accidents (both types) in the living room by the time we got home. I felt bad for them and for the old dog who must have peed for five minutes straight. (She pees if she's left alone for five minutes, but can hold her bladder for ten hours without an accident if she is home with the puppies. Total swiss cheese for brains at this point, but too sweet to let her go until she tells us it's time.)
Hopefully, I will hear from Bev by tomorrow. She has limited hours at her shop.
Look for amazing videos soon!