Playtime

The beautiful Wadatika and Flirt get in a little play time!  

Off to See the Wizard

The knee?  It's healing well.  A wee bit tender now and then, but mobility is about 95%, I'd say.  I guess I never did share the photo, but suffice to say it never really did turn ugly.  Just big.  Someone finally talked me into going in and getting xrays, despite me saying that if I could walk on it, what could be wrong?  She told me plenty, and go.  So I did.  And do you know what they found?  Nothing.

Okay, not entirely nothing.  It was red and inflamed and infected, and they told me I'd be off my feet for several days, and that I was going to get a shot in me bum for several days as well until the inflammation went down.

Say WHAT????  I don't want no shot in me bum!  And I've got colts to ride.  I can stay off my feet just so long as me bum is in the saddle.  Alas, again, I lost the argument and me pants were dropped and I walked out feeling a lot more pain than when I'd come in.

Being the smart girl I am, I went to work on ways to reduce that inflammation sooner, rather than later, and that included a nice long soak in more than enough epsom salts.  Hey, if it's good enough for my horse's abcess, it's good enough for my knee, right?  

Then next afternoon I reluctantly returned to the dr's office, but was delighted to learn that since ALL the red had disappeared over night, I wouldn't be subjected to another needle.  Whew!  What a relief  because the first one still smarted!

In the meantime, there've been a few changes around here.  Maxine was traded to a young gal who was struggling with her own 2 year old mustang.  Sam's filly was a real spitfire, and Sam a full time student who struggled to stay consistent with her.  I approached her about a possible trade, knowing Maxine would be a much better fit.  Sam came and tried Max out, and indeed, it worked!  

The incoming filly was a grulla pinto from the Paisley Desert.  She was smarter than a whip, let me tell you, and extremely spunky.  She was a lot of fun to work with.  Before long, however, I had someone else interested in Dulce, and the pot got sweeter.

My friends, I would like to introduce you to Oz.  He's a 2 1/2 year old gelding who was bred on Palomino Butte HMA in Oregon, and foaled in the corrals in Burns.  He stands a whopping 15 hands and is so stout that people often think he's closer to 16 hands until the get close.

Oz had already been in a home for a year, so he's titled (meaning the adopted fulfilled the requirements of adoption and the BLM no longer owns him), and he came with incredible ground manners and skills!  I played with  him a few days, then began saddling him up.  He's pretty incredible!

 Oz competed in the Oregon Mountain Trail Challenge as a yearling and won his in hand class with over 30 competitors!  Of course, I had to bring him out to our 'course' in the back and send him over logs, the bridge, and through the water hazard, all of which he negotiated without skipping a beat.

I hauled Oz down to The Cowboy's place for a couple of weeks.  When The Cowboy saw him, his jaw dropped.  "Now THIS is a horse!" he said.  He likes this gelding.  Likes his hip and short cannon bones.  Likes his mind, too.  Pretty sure there was a Quarter Horse who climbed through a fence somewhere and bred a wild mustang mare.  How else can you explain the classic good looks of this colt?  Okay, Cowboy...whatever!

The Cowboy isn't the only one smitten with this handsome fellow...

Flirt thinks he's pretty keen, too!

Ouch.

"Someday you'll learn," were the parting words of the Cowboy as I hobbled out of the barn, a lovely purple and blue hoof print encircling my knee cap.

The lesson was to work the horse until she was tired before doing something new. It's obviously a lesson one should learn early on, if they're going to work with mustangs, or any youngster for that matter. But such is life, eh? Sometimes 

we slip up and do something that doesn't seem like such a stupid idea at the time.

I'd led Flirt into the big arena rather than the round pen today. Rope, coat and plastic bag work had all gone so well, I thought maybe today I'd introduce her to the saddle blanket. 

That didn't go so well.

She was fascinated by the smells of other horses, burying her face in the blanket, but not liking when I tried to rub it on her neck, or bump her shoulder with it. No huge reactions, just stepping back and pushing her face into it again. I didn't press the matter, I didn't think. I simply approached and retreated, and as I retreated she would approach, wanting to bury her face in it some more.

Eventually I decided I'd walk her back to her stall, carrying the blanket with me. She followed on a somewhat loose lead, her muzzle at my pocket where she knew the treats were hiding. I finally stopped to rub her face and hand her one, but something got into her mind. Something that said, "Run, and kick that nasty saddle pad when you go!" And so she did. Except she kicked my knee cap instead, which dropped me to the ground in relatively short order. She then ran back to the front of the arena, where she paused at the small door that led into the barn. 

I hollered a few times before anyone heard me. There was a horse in the cross ties and I sure didn't want her getting into a wreck. Someone finally heard me, but of course by then Flirt was trotting through the small alleyway out into the barn. She was led back out by someone who was just a little intimidated by my oversized, somewhat frightened yearling (why? I can't imagine, lol), and I managed to get myself up and over to her, led her back to her stall and put her way.

My knee? Oh, a lovely shade of bright purples, blues and black. Swelling? Well, a little, I suppose. Drenched it in DMSO, then vet wrapped an ice pack to it, after which I drove the half hour home. And here I sit, telling you my story so that you make sure you work that horse until it's tired before you go introducing a saddle blanket, okay? Okay. Once I get this unwrapped, I'll take a picture and share the beauty of it with you!