Can't Wait

It is not a stretch for me to admit that I love caring for this little camp horse, Possum. I wake up every morning, earlier than I have been used to in many years, to the sound of a hearty whiny, his big black eyes warm with anticipation for his tiny sampling of pellets. He gobbles that down, then happily ambles over to the little piles of loosened up hay flakes I have scattered around the paddock. After I finish my coffee, I head out with the wheelbarrow and the muck picker and fluff up his stall and pick the apples out of paddock. I top off his water buckets and give him a rub on the white star between his eyes. He's really grown on me.

Later, usually after I've cleaned up, done house chores, ran errands, and a quick lunch, I put on his halter and lead him into the little stable area. I secure him on the cross-ties, turn off the electric fencing, and set to giving him a good grooming. First he gets a currying, then the hard brush, then the little soft brush for his face and body, a quick run through his tail and mane, and lastly, I pick out his bare hooves. Then, I'll tack him up, taking my time so that every piece of equipment is on correctly, every billet and loop in place. I put on my chaps and helmet, and lead him out to the driveway. I mount up and see where the ride takes me. We've explored almost every place we can up here on the hill. Some days, he's a gem, other days, he challenges me. Some days I let him win the little battle. After all, he is, sort of, on vacation.

My riding muscles are gaining strength, and I have learned to anticipate his particular quirks. Sometimes he likes to buck a little when I ask for a canter. The first day I rode him, I tumbled over him when he did his little frisky buck. Since then, I have learned to sit up and stay on, and to kick him forward out of it. His buck is more like a little head wiggle and hop, really. It just caught me off guard the first time.

Usually after about an hour of riding, we head back to the driveway, where I hop off and loosen up his girth. He sighs with relief, and I give him a pat and thank him for allowing me to ride him. We head back to the stable and cross-ties, and I take off his bridle. He always yawns two or three times after I pull the bit out of his mouth. I rub his cheeks while he does this. I put on his halter again and secure him to the cross-ties, then I take off his saddle and saddle pads, and last, his breastplate. Then I rub off any sweat and brush off his back and girth and behind his ears. Every few days, I apply some hoof conditioner to his hooves. Then I put on the lead line, take him off the cross-ties, and we head out to the fields for some hand grazing.

Oh boy, how much does he love to munch on grass? Sometimes, I have a hard time getting to leave the field and come back to the paddock! When he is free again in his area, the electric fencing plugged back in, he always takes a long drink from the water bucket. Then, he is happy, having been worked, and now he knows it is only a matter of time when the dinner round of pellets will come. More hay is dispersed, and off he ambles, noisily blowing snots out of nose. There is nothing more peaceful then hearing the sounds of horse content, munching on hay.

He's had two days off in a row this week, for the first time since he's been here. I wonder how frisky he will be this afternoon when I tack him up for a ride? Especially with the October winds blowing.

I can't wait to find out.