Crippled right front - Archie pulled the silicone pad.

Crippled right front - Vet said that he needed to lose an inch of toe.

Less crippled left front.  Vet explained that this image indicated a slight medio-lateral imbalance, as you can't see straight across the joints.

Less crippled left front - with pad still in.  He said that Archie was 2-3 mm high on the lateral side. Lateral being further from the midline, so the hoof is higher on the outside wall.

Not the best angle (he was eating and this hoof was placed back), but I think that's about an inch, given the location of the old nail holes.

Archie
The old monster has been a little bit of an asshole lately, primarily when we're alone.  He's been wearing his sassy pants when I've tried to work him in the ring and wearing his spooky brain when I've tried taking him on the trails.  Repetition and work are all he needs, along with some juice for that right front.  Vet is due out in August, so we'll get all the joints addressed and make Mr. Sassy Brain Dead Britches comfortable again.

A video posted by bekaburke (@bekaburke) on Jul 11, 2016 at 1:02pm PDT

All of a sudden, it's been over a week since my last post.  Whoopsie daisy.  (Tonight's craft beer:  Abita bourbon something coffee something something.)

Okay, so a recap of the things that have happened since last I wrote:

Trail buddy and I took the beginner rider on her first trail ride off the property last Sunday. The fifteen or twenty minutes spent driving to the hunt club were devoted to quizzing her on the proper response to a horse spooking and a horse bolting.  We don't think about these things anymore, but I was taught, a million years ago, to ride at the level of the lowest rider.  So we talk about the things that can go wrong and how to salvage the situation.

Again, best freaking trail horse ever.

Unless we're about to cross a giant puddle, in which case the Archer needs a lead.

The trail ride went very well.  When was the last time you taught someone to trot in the woods?  Just think about it.  No rails, no trainer, just a few women in the woods on horses.

Because it was so fucking hot and we went about seven miles again, I didn't jump Ox afterwards.  Everyone deserves a break.

Later that day, my SIL and two nephews came to town and spent the night with us.  Do you know the best way to determine if someone is allergic to cats?  Have them spend the night with a cat hoarder.  But, for all the coughing and sneezing, it was a great visit.  Eventually, both the little christian nephews will be introduced to Harry Potter.  Give me time.

Someone is horrified by the wind in the trees.

But at least he comes to me now!  Carrots, ftw.

Can we talk about how little my saddle pad looks on him?

Archie had a farrier visit recently.  He kept his silicone in and shoe on for a whopping three weeks and still magically developed thrush in that right front, so we didn't do pour-ins this time.  It saved me seventy-five dollars, which I in turn used to pay the BM's kid who cleaned all my tack as a fund raiser for world.  She loved the Higher Standards soap and conditioner.

Note to self:  if you stick your thrush-covered finger in your farrier's face as he holds up your horse's hoof, he is liable to stick his hoof knife in yours.  Just an FYI. Trail buddy has been loaning me out Thrush Buster because guess who doesn't keep that shit on hand.

Learned recently that the kid who broke Ox decided to tie a barrel to him.  Just... wtf.  So barrels are still horrifying.

But showers are amazing.

Archie's innocent face.  That fucker.

And then Ox ate Archie.  The big orange booty doesn't play.

Not much else has been going on.  Horses, gym, work, husband.  Rinse and repeat.  Lots of stuff on the horizon!

It might be the new meds (surprise!), but I was just.. fucking thrilled with life this weekend.  So before I puddle into contented goo, here's a small novel of some of the happy things:

Shoes

New Rider

Used the opportunity of riding Big G to explain to her how downward transitions start with the seat. He's so sensitive that it was perfect.

Photos

I just like how gray my hair looks.

I thought long and hard about getting on Archie.  And if we'd taken a single step, I wouldn't have.  But I felt okay about sitting on him without a helmet in a relatively controlled setting.  Vanity, your name is hypocrite.

More Photos

Trail Ride

Listening ear.

Fitness/Appearance

The Hubs

More words than had passed between us since middle school.

Last weekend, Archie threw the shoe that was hanging on by a thread.  I can't even find it in myself to be all that grumpy about the situation, because, whatever, it's going to happen.  I'm emotionally transitioning from "ride all the time!" to "hit the trails if the horse is comfortable and entact, otherwise just cuddle or hand walk".  This is more than just losing the disappointment about circumstances I have no control over (shoes, weather), but also losing the guilt when I just can't make it out there.

Archie had a visit with the farrier last week.  New farrier is a funny guy:

Me:  ...Yeah, and his racing name was Bold Archer.
Him:  I can see why you dropped the bold.

I'm pretty effing happy with the work he's done and want to show a six-months fugly foot difference:

August on left, February on right. Stress crack is officially gone!

In other Archer news, we're back under saddle.  His skin still looks like shit and he still has giant bald patches, so I'm probably a horrible human being for putting my not-so-delicate weight on his tender tender fleshies, but he has yet to tell me to fuck myself and seems to have enjoyed himself.  Knock on wood.

Wednesday of last week, I put my Collegiate on him and hopped on in my work pants and mustard yellow mules.  I very gently tossed my weight across his back before I put a foot in the stirrup, just to make sure he was okay.  We walked two laps around the outside of the ring and called it a night.
Saturday, I changed his bit out (more to come on that after more trial) and immediately took him out to the river.  He balked in one spot, which was at another path in the trail and I almost feel like was a request to go exploring and later had the tiniest shuffle of feet, not to be confused with a spook.  I took him to the ring afterwards and walked a couple laps before cuing him to trot.


And my ouchy, arthritic gelding took off in the most comfortable, rhythmic rolling canter.  For two laps.  Reverse and, by god, the old guy did it again.

Sunday, the other boarder and I met up again for a little trail ride.  My horse is amazing.  He had nearly four weeks off and gave no fucks about anything.

I'm just gonna take a nap, mk?

Archie's feet having been progressing brilliantly since I switched farriers.  The new farrier is still pleasant to talk to and answers all my annoying questions.  He's also almost got the dip on Archie's right front grown out.  There's barely a sliver of the enormous stress crack left and I'm pretty sure it'll be a normal hoof in the next cycle or two.