After going through the HOLY SHIT MY HORSE IS DYING episode last week, I was hoping that this weekend would be a return to normalcy.  Or something.  Spoiler:  it wasn't.

I went out to the barn on Friday after work.  In theory, I could have started riding Archie.  Exercise is good for gut function (as any person trying to jog with a dog will attest to).  Except we were in the midst of a monsoon.

So... normally there isn't a creek running next to those trees.

As always, I was ill-prepared for the weather and was just wearing jeans and my tennis shoes with a somewhat water-repellent jacket.  I went down to the pasture to get Archie and he immediately trotted up to me with a get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here expression.  Poor dude was shivering, even though the temps were actually upper fifties/lower sixties.  I brought him into the aisle and threw a cooler on him, then went back and grabbed TE's pony so he could warm up and dry off some, too.

Cold, unhappy pony.

The misfortune to this is that I waded through mid-calf water.  In my tennis shoes.  And jeans.

After the ponies were warmed up, I turned TE's horse back out with a sheet on and kept Archie in to feed.  Then he too went back out into the monsoon with clothes on.

So, Saturday, right?  Maybe?  Nope, nope, nope.  I stopped by the barn long enough to shove carrots into his face and toss his sheet back on for the night.  It was still gross out.  I did get to spent $85 at Tractor Supply on exciting things like SandClear and Cocosoya Oil and rubber boots (hey, OR, I'm gonna be copying you!).

Sorta like this.  But navy.  And the horses are running, I think.

You know, after having spent $120 on SmartPak stuff.  Like the actual packs, some electrolyte paste, some ShowSmart paste, and fly spray.

Sunday.  Yes.  Please.

Donning my brand-new rubber boots, I waded through the remnants of a puddle to grab my pony.  Even if he weren't relatively easy to catch, he's got to be conditioned by now to want to see me, since lately I've just been doting on him and shoving food in his face.

And I noticed almost immediately that the bastard threw a shoe.

I still tacked him up because the ground was all sorts of water-logged mushiness, so I figured it be pretty comfortable to ride on for him.  BM offered to text the farrier for me, which I accepted because she's got a better relationship with him.  Mounted (to screaming butt muscles - new max on the squat rack!  225!) and meandered on to the arena.  It was a quick 25 minute ride with a shit ton of walking and just a little bit of trotting.  And no canter.

After untacking and cooling him, I took a moment to wash his legs in antibacterial/antifungal shampoo.  I just figure that it's good preventative for all the mud and water lately.  Then all his fly gear went back on, he got his first serving of beet pulp in almost a week, and back out into the pasture he went.  I devoted some time to walking the pasture in an S pattern before I found the perfect little shoe.  Here's hoping the farrier will actually come by and reattach it before he's due for his next shoeing in two weeks.