My schedule is all wacky this week.

Monday, I opted to spend time with the husband, who got off work early, rather than go ride the pony.  There's something about talking about landscaping options and dividing chores that leaves me feeling like a fortunate and contented grown up.

So, Tuesday, I opted to ride.  There were about 800 various things going on and I looked at a lot more than Archie did.  Lazy pony is amazing.  I can't say that it was a very productive ride, but it was still good time spent in the saddle.

Yesterday poured rain and called for more rain.  I normally ride on Wednesdays, but switched out Wednesday and Thursday.  So, I headed to the Humane Society and then to the gym.  What are you doing to improve your riding fitness out of the saddle?  (Note to self: more cardio.)
Some puppy porn for you. 

OR is my personal cheerleader.  She's only seen the best of Archie (minus his post-gallop, trail-induced mania) (and his penchant for biting horses in the ass as their owners try to halter them) and calls him a saint.  I mean, he is a saint.  He saves my ass all the freaking time.  But it's a sort of laissez-faire saintdom.

We met up on Sunday, amid horrible skies and a constant threat of imminent downpour, to practice a little bit of jumping.  Safety in numbers.  We had the same course set up as we'd individually worked with on Wednesday, with only one minor change.  I turned a plain vertical into a crossrail/vertical, which I used to do in Augusta all the freaking time.  It's more of an optical illusion.

I trotted most of the fences initially, just trying to get a grasp of things.  Silly of me, since I cantered them earlier in the week.  After trotting all of them, we moved on to cantering and building little lines and courses.  We had three little blips.  A refusal, a complete knock down, and a nasty chip over the oxer.

After fucking up a "full" course of six fences, I took a moment to try to mentally get back in the game before attacking the course again.  This is where the cheerleader comes in.  Afterwards, OR told me that Archie's expression was significantly improved and that I appeared happy rather than terrified.  I was still terrified, but some part of me remembered that I have to actively ride the horse.

Only one lead change, which I think the dude nailed.

As I enjoy receiving a paycheck and benefits, I try not to complain too much about being employed.  Also, no one gives a shit if I'm discontent at my job - everyone, to some degree, is.  But... waaahhh.. work has been hard lately and it's taken a chunk out of my brain.

I had all the best intentions of riding on Friday and making it a flat day.  But my father was coming to town today and wanted to see the house, which meant that the hubs and I had to do some serious straightening up.  Just enough to make it look like we weren't slobs, but that he was still family.  You know.

So I rode Saturday after the Kid had two days off.  We've been doing a shit ton of jumping lately - the three rides prior had all had baby fences.  I have to pepper my enthusiasm for this rediscovered interest with some moderate work.  Pony can't jump every day.  As my father was kind enough to remind me, Archie isn't young anymore.

Fucker.

I've taken the spurs off my boots and I carried a crop briefly.  I had plans for the crop, so after lugging it around uselessly, I set it on the rail and focused on getting him more responsive to my leg.  We had a few temper tantrums and some pissed off pony ears, but we achieved more of the pace and impulsion that I've had in my lessons with T3.  (I miss you, T3.)  Our canter had more oomph, but balance is still an issue.  And yet, I felt so much more secure in the saddle when I was trying to actively engage him.

After working him for a while, we went on a trail ride.  Since the Dude has been able to meander, ears pinned, behind other horses, his solo trail rides have begun to suffer.  I think it started at the old barn, but he's gotten into the nasty habit of slamming on the brakes, backing, and then spinning a 180.  I've normally taken his momentum from spinning and forced him in the same direction 180 degrees and kicked him on to wherever we were going.  This takes several seconds and it was getting to the point where I was having to push him like this four or five times in a ten minute trail ride.

The antennae of Bold Archer.

So Saturday, I carried a crop.

While trying to cross the little ditch, Archie slammed on the brakes and started to pace backwards.  I already had pressure with my calves, so I popped him.  He bumped forward and kept going, swiveling an ear at me.

There was another point a little ways away that he slammed on the brakes again, so I popped him one more time.

And, really, in risk of putting human thoughts in my horse's behavior, I felt like he gave a deep sigh and just.. enjoyed the walk.  Once we made it to where we would normally cut in to the woods to cross the road, I turned him around and asked him for a canter.

So, yeah, cantered the pony on a dirty road by our lonesome.

He had cocky pony syndrome afterwards and pranced back to the barn - fortunately, this wasn't prancing racehorse, just a longer stride and a bulging neck.

Pretty decent sweat for my winter pony.

Horse Junkies United.

Psh.
And what he did not bat a single fucking eyelash at:

Dover.

So, we've all seen these, right?  Dover sells them for $12.99 a pop.  I didn't want to drop $25+ to get my two rarely-used saddles off the ground in my garage.  Have drill, will screw.

Supplies:

Not including my drill, total cost was $11.08.

Made huge mostly because I wanted you to see the manager's name.

I could have saved $0.40 if I had bought both my rope hooks at Wally's.

Not pictured:  the 32" piece of poplar that I got for $2.

Steps:

1.  Mark the half-way point of the wood.  Start hacking with the tiny saw.

2.  When the blade of the saw starts sliding out of the back of the handle, contemplate suicide tape that bitch.  When it starts sliding out of the front, derpedly tighten the screw holding the blade with all the strength born by the frustration that this little project has already caused.

Ghetto fabulous.

3.  When you've successfully hacked as many of the corners as you can and you don't seem to be progressing towards two separate pieces of wood, contemplate suicide utilize (gratuitous) body weight and a sharp corner, like the edge of the driveway, to crack it.

4.  Insert eye screw into wall.  Deets on this later.

Eye screw.  Wall.

5.  Figure out the point at which the rope hook has to be in order to be flush with the wall and stay upright.  I used tape.

Voila.

6.  When that position is figured out, screw in the rope hook.  I pre-drilled holes to make this easier.

I have been with my equine vet since we moved to Savannah.  When I was at the old barn, I set up my appointments on my own and made it my responsibility to find a reputable vet, rather than simply rely on what the BO suggested (because I questioned everything that came out of her mouth).

Prior to moving to Savannah, I only ever saw the vet when there was an emergency or a lameness issue.  It was a large barn and I would either get a bill or get notice.  I had no idea what Archie got or when.  As I changed vets, I actually had to contact the old vet to see what Archie was due for and when and get all of his rads and history sent to the new vet.  Normal stuff, but I had never done it for my horse before.

So it was a novel experience to have time to cut the shit with the vet when he came out to see Archie. We talked horses, people, veterinary medicine, small animal practices, and idiot owners.

The first or second visit, I had the vet float Archie's teeth.  He did it, but afterwards he gave me a bit of advice.  He said that, while every horse needs to have the teeth checked every six months, the concept that a float is necessary yearly is misinformation.

I told the BM the other day that I was dead set and determined that Archie would get his teeth floated yesterday at his visit.  Three years, too damn long, left me feeling incredibly anxious about the condition of his mouth and what the recent increase in contact felt like for him.

And the vet told me no.

I begged.  I pleaded.  I pointed out a superficial chip in one of his incisors.  And he still told me no.

And, insultingly, I asked if he were sure.  He told me that he had done 37 floats that week and that, yes, he was sure.

Nope, nope, nope.

Left thumb is actually on the chip.

In the rest of the visit, we talked about Archie's ringbone and recent eye inflammation.  He told me that we wouldn't need to repeat rads of those front ankles until probably 2016, as it takes a while to show bone changes.  Unless, of course, there was any front end lameness.  The vet also reminded me that the ringbone wasn't near the joint, that he felt it would never be near the joint, and that we really didn't need to worry about it too much.

Otherwise, we talked about how great the ponykins was doing:  trail rides and jumps and just still a perky fellow.

Shiny butt.