Thoughts on a cool morning...

A cool morning is always appreciated around my house. It usually evokes two emotions for me, and has since I was about 15. When I first open my eyes and take in the world around me, I'm more than 100% content to laze around in bed and literally just lay around in the cool morning hours. Nothing makes for better sleep than a cool morning just before the sun gets to showing his face. The other emotion is the one I should follow more often--the urge to go catch a horse, and do something constructive!
This time last year I was getting up at 5 a.m. every morning to catch my barrel horse , and work on conditioning him. We'd ride the fence line of our little place at a long trot, building his wind a little more with every stride. A snaffle bit and split reins went along way to relax him and take some of his anxiety away about life in general. He's a laid back sort of feller most of time anyway, but when it would come time to saddle up, he became a worry wart. He never made a nuisance of himself, but he was apt to push on the bit and hollow his back out, blow a lead change on a circle, just little niggling things that drove me crazy. We went back to basics-stopping straight on a loose rein, flexing, keeping an arc from nose to tail as we loped a circle, backing without hesitation. Sidepassing, stopping without throwing his head straight up in the air was my biggest obstacle--it drove me crazy when I would ask him to slow down or stop!
For years he'd been ridden in a tie down no matter what-don't get me wrong, I'll still crack one out and put a horse in one if I think it's really necessary. I used one on him after I first acquired him, but as time has gone on, I've tried to teach him that he CAN travel without one. That he doesn't have to look for that noseband ever time he goes to stop...that it's easier to follow his nose when I ask him to give than to do things on his own and muscle through a turn like a musk ox! He was just as nice and broke as they come when he first came to me, but he just didn't handle like I wanted him to. I'm proud that he'll lope off with his head low, that a bump of an outside leg will tip his nose toward whichever leg I bumped with, and that I can run him without a tie down now. He's a more responsive, softer, thinking horse now. Before, he didn't think, he responded, and it was usually rough! The way he's built makes him rough to ride at a trot, so long hours of long trotting allowed him to learn to carry himself differently, to not ride like such a lumber wagon! He still has his moments where he wants to do things the easy way, but the longer I have him the fewer and farther between those moments become.
My boy is standing out in the pasture under the pecan tree as I type; he's sidelined for the foreseeable future with yet another "ouchie" as Jackson calls it. Just through the thick part of his left hind heel bulb, it's an odd place for a cut. Every time he put weight on that hind foot (which he does all the time now, thankfully!) it spreads the wound apart. It's healing well, my darlin' husband has done a wonderful job keeping me supplied with all sorts of powders and potions to keep Woodrow on the mend. I'm so thankful to have him--he does all he can to spare me any sort of hurt any time any of our horses are hurt. I tend to be a tad emotional when it comes to the horses, they're like my big four legged babies. I hate feeling helpless when it comes to them, when it's so obvious that they're hurting and don't know how to ask for relief.
As Woodrow makes his way out from under the pecan tree I can't help but smile. As he stood dozing, the other geldings ambled away from him, intent on finding more tender shoots of grass to munch no doubt. When he woke from his nap, he jerked his head up, realizing he stood alone-and he trotted off. No limping, no bobbing of his head or hesitation to stride out across the trap. He's resigned himself to thrusting his head through the fence, stealing bites from our yard of freshly mowed grass....once again, in the shade. He's a happy sort, it's never hard to spot him. Look for the closest shady spot, and you'll find him. He's my faithful steed through and through-I believe he would eat rocks if I offered them from the palm of my hand. A short whistle and a "Ro Ro...come on!" will bring him to the barn lot as fast as he's comfortable with. It never fails to bring a smile to my face, he's as predictable as the day is long. When it comes to matters of the feed bucket and his belly, make no mistake, that feed in the trough is worth all the grass in the pasture to him! He's always up for one more bite of whatever it is that you might have...
And he's not above lipping at pockets for treats! He learned quickly that Jackson will bring treats just as long as he would stand at the gate with his head down where Jackson could pet him. I love to watch Jackson with the geldings. All four of them become different guys when he comes around...their heads drop, ears come up, and for a minute or two they even stop their fighting. Looking for apple flavored horse treats, bites of carrot and pieces of cattle cake are all that's on their minds when the little man is around.