In an effort not to let myself dwell on *ahem* my back situation, I've brought in another member of the Horsie family.
This started as a diversion tactic but has turned into something better. My horse, whom I own, is the victim of a horrible, did-you-go-to-the-online-farrier-school, shoer. Lightly put, the front part of his hooves are curling around and back into in the sensitive white part of his hoof. This is not something that happened overnight but over the span of about seven months. Coincidentally, how long I've been using this person.
Anyway, think of walking around with ingrown toenails on all ten of your piggies and running a marathon in ill-fitting shoes. What's the first thing to come into mind? Pain. . .hm, what else? So this is what my poor defenseless animal, who had no other way to tell me other than, starting last week, walking with his head so low and barely moving his front feet.
There could be a happy ending - I've got the Manolo Blahnik of the horseshoe world coming on Monday with the vet by his side. (For those few unenlightened, search Manolo's on Google - note the price. It will not be much different for this farrier.)
Sooo, at the advice of my good friend and guardian angel, Christi Bacot, who owns the beautiful farm where Cowboy lives, I started to ride Cecil.
What a beautiful horse. I'd like to think we had a connection the first time I rode him. Smooth changes and he's practically telepathic, my cues using my legs were so subtle. I knew right away I wanted this McPonypants in my life.
So I leased him. Now my English-riding ass gets to learn Western. I even bought a sweet pair of boots.
As when I first met Cowboy, he's kind of wondering who this person with the baby-talky voice who's getting on his back on a daily basis. (She does bring cookies, though.) It will take time for him to either get sick of me or become my friend. With horses, usually the friend wins out. I'm not above bribery by cookies.
My pony is, of course, insanely jealous. He's stuck in a stall with funny boots on his feet. He used to be a wild horse in South Dakota, so you can imagine how well this is going over. He gooses me every time I get near him and demands nose kisses and ear scratches.
We're in the same boat, Cowboy and I. Due to injuries, we're stuck in a stall unable to do what we really want to do. We both know it will eventually heal but in the meantime we pace, we wonder why we're caged up and we're not doing what we were born to do - rely on our high spirits to drive our lives.
More pictures of Cecil the Sea Monster to follow.