My First Love

It was Clayton Moore (no Bassman, not Danny). Oh how I wanted to be the fair maiden that he saved. Or ride his wonderful horse. Yes, I even have an autographed photo of him. In my livingroom! Sigh.

Somehow my little horsey has figured this out because once again, she decided to go all Hi Ho Silver on me. She actually came close to getting rid of me. And that made me mad.

So after we jumped and reared and bucked our way back to the barn, she was quite ready for me to unsaddle her and hand out the carrots (our normal behavior). Unfortunately, the steam was still rolling out of my ears and I was not ready to play nice. For the first time in months, we went into the round pen.

The round pen is not fun. It is where we work on the boring stuff over and over again. Walk, trot, canter, one direction then turn around and do the same thing the other way. Dull. Monotonous.

Usually. Tonight there was quite a bit of flat ears, tail wringing, and an occasional kick. 80+ degree heat and we still spent almost an hour in there.

Eventually her brain melted down to the mellow part. The clouds in the little idjit's head dissipated and she realized that we were going to be doing it my way. Slowly. Calmly. Perhaps even happily. She smoothed out and became the pleasure to ride she most often is.

Hurrah! Carrots for everyone!

I wonder when I will be a little too old for Lone Rangering. Probably long before she is ready to quit the Silver impersonation.