Today was a bizarre day. It was quite dead at work so I took advantage of having extra help to clean all the crap off the top of the kennels. Boss Man was for once, not breathing down my neck, so I was able to toss some 20 year old plus stuff that he'll never miss. One of those things on my "to do" list but since the damned phone rings every time I'm up on the ladder, it was nice to get this done quickly.
There was a ton of traffic and cops everywhere on my drive home. Despite that, I got nearly taken out by inattentive drivers a couple of times. It was worse than full moon fever out there.
I had an appointment with my farrier and I specifically told him "after 2" and he assured me he'd be there "well after that". So I'm looking forward to eating lunch, watching the Preakness, and winding down before his visit. I drive up at 1:45 to see his truck in my driveway. Like most men he doesn't listen, but at least he shows up on the day he says he will. The kid's truck is in his way, the dogs are outside, so I toss my untouched lunch in the house, move her truck, and call the dogs in. Only 2 show up. Shit. My ancient heeler mix, who has Cushings and I'm keeping a close eye on is missing. She finally creaks out and I get them all in the house.
I've been looking forward to a summer of riding. But Princess Pout, my principal riding horse, managed to get a vertical crack in his hoof that ended up traveling up to the coronet band. He's been on 2 weeks stall rest since it happened.
So farrier goes to work on Princess Pout's feet, and finishes by filling in the crack. It's still going to be a PITA to have grow out, but the good news is it's just a fluke, nothing vital is affected. Bad news is that the only exercise he can have can't be above a walk. For quite awhile.
So it looks like my summer is going to be relegated to handwalking Princess Pout and working on Shitweasel's training. Shitweasel is a colt that is ostensibly supposed to belong to my hubby but I've been the chief manure mover and wrangler with this one too.
The farrier tells me that for the first time in over 20 years, today two horses kicked him square in the butt and knocked him over. Even the animals are off kilter today. I'm looking forward to just getting back to the normal insanity that is life.
***Note to horse owners: Ever consider how much time you spend talking to the farrier's butt while holding your horse for him? Of all the people I know my farriers are the only ones who I'd recognize walking away from me rather than face on. I once saw a guy who I thought might have been a former apprentice of my farrier, but since asking him to turn around and bend over would have been too weird, I'll never know if it was him or not.