McDrunkerson.

Okay, not me.  Even though, yeah, Saturday night is the unofficial "date night" with my husband and it is always a blast.

So, Friday's ride was.. something.  What'd we do?  I remember taking him out of the pasture.  See, this is where tracking all of my crap on Cyclemeter just helps.  I took him out of the pasture and we did laps on the dirt road before I walked him in a cool-down loop around the meadow and down the neighbor's driveway.  I remember cussing at the neighbor's dog, who is absolutely thrilled at the opportunity to bark at the horses and whose owner doesn't give a shit.  I'm so classy.

The drunk heading comes from Saturday.  We'd spent the day with D's family, doing crap around the house. Because of the distance between the house and the barn now, if we're going to go downtown for dinner or anything, the husband will come with me to the barn and entertain himself (namely, playing a sim on his iPhone).  Saturday is still my day for downward transitions, but I wanted to change it up a little bit.  We did a large figure-8 and walked the center line.  Then a few trot-canter transitions, which I totally psyched myself out for but that weren't bad.  You remember when you were learning to canter and your instructor would scream at you to stop posting so the little lesson pony would understand that you weren't asking for a faster trot?  Yeah, I kept posting until he fully transitioned.  So smooth.

But there were a few moments that freaked me out.  Once when trotting (tracking left), it felt as though his butt collapsed.  It was not a comfortable sensation and it reoccurred two more times.  The second time, we were walking out of the gate and it was like his butt shuffled to the right and down before he caught himself.  The final time, I'd stopped him at the water trough, he drank, and when he went to move, it was like he had to climb out of a hole.

These are things that I have not experienced before and which frighten me.  Neurological?  Physical?  Absent-mindedness?

When I dismounted, I checked him all over for body weirdness - nothing.  I did that little neuro/balance test by pulling his tail either direction.  I flexed his left hind in the stifle, hock and ankle (though, stupidly, didn't check his right).  Finally, I called my husband out from the car and asked him to assist me in a sacro stretch.  I don't think it was his sacro, but my husband was around and I didn't think the stretch would hurt.

A mare at my old barn had EPM.

I finished his carrot stretches, which were fine, hosed him off and loaded him in his new duds before giving him his beet pulp and leaving.

New Cashel fly boots and a long-nose Cashel fly mask.
When I went to the barn yesterday, BO had just fed.  I spent some time grooming him and listening to my new favorite metal band before I tossed a bridle on him and took him out of the pasture.  I don't know why I felt so fucking secure bareback, but I really felt glued to him.  My intention was to walk the big loop down the dirt road, through the meadow, down the neighbor's driveway and down the paved road back to the barn.  Unfortunately, the neighbors had the gate from their driveway to the road locked, so we had to turn around.  It was also at this point that I realized that I hadn't ever turned on Cyclemeter.  Roar.
Listening ear en route to the meadow.

I tried to show that weather was shifting.
I've walked him to the meadow bareback before, but I don't think we've ever done the large loop.  There are several things on the neighbor's driveway which spook him:  children, chickens (understandable), fallen trees, wildlife, bushes, barrels, dirt, etc.  On yesterday's walk, we saw a cat that looked like a lemur, an eastern box turtle and a fox (!).  And he only had two hard spooks (the cat and an air conditioning unit).  He never had another I'm-drunk,-fuck-this-walking-shit moment.
Thigh sweat.  That's not all I want to say, but that is all I'm going to say.
Oh!  And to showcase:  I ended up getting the Centaur ribbed bell boots, since so many people had been like CENTAURRRR!  I wanted velcro, I got velcro, and I think they're pretty okay so far.  The dust has already made the blue less pretty, but water fixes that!  Also, maybe a TAD large, but I'm cool with that.
Rub on left.

Rub on right.

Give us a five-point breastplate thingy, some blue gallop boots, and Mr. Discontent and I could enter the Amoebas!

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6 comments

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    1. Wrong account. Anyways, comment was: Are the Centaurs rubbing then? That sucks. Fiction has had his on (pull-ons) for a few months straight and has no rubs.

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    2. Oh, no! The Centaurs were purchased because the old bell boots had left the rubs. I just wanted to document what the rubs looked like as a "before".

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    3. Ah OK! Well I hope they work out for you then :)

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  2. Simon will drop like that and it's either from tripping or loose stifles (which get better for him in more work/fitness). His outfit looks super cute!

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    1. Loose stifles! Entirely a possibility! To the trot poles, Archman!

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Thanks!