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!