On days that I am just too tired to ride, usually because it's so danged hot, I like to just play around with my boys. I turned Sydney out into the arena where he bucked and galloped and squealed and acted as though he hadn't seen the light of day for weeks and weeks. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Speedy's big treat isn't the turn out, although he likes that occasionally. His go-to TGIF event is to free-graze on the lawn. I just loop his lead rope up through his halter and then toss the rope over his back so that he doesn't step on it. He's really good about it, and for the most part, he stays where he's supposed to, until he doesn't.
While Speedy grazed, I went and got Sydney so that he could have some time to nibble as well. I have to hold his lead rope or he panics at his imagined freedom. All was going well until Speedy pulled one of his I am not supposed to do this tricks.
Here's where they are supposed to graze, also known as OUR yard.
I led Sydney back to his stall but kept my eye on my lost little pony. Within a very short time, Speedy remembered where the twelve foot opening in the fence was and came trotting gaily over to the lawn. By this time, Sydney was tucked back in his stall. Seeing Speedy prancing up and down across the lawn set off his run wild button which in turn encouraged my wayward pony to really put on a show.
I closed Sydney's gate and walked calmly back to the lawn to round up the fat boy. While he may show off to his buddies, he knows when the jig is up and always allows himself to be ever-so-humbly caught and led back to the barn. As we walked back, his head hanging dejectedly, I reminded him that if he'd just stay in OUR yard, he could spend lots more time out there.
He always looks like he agrees with me, but there is never a free-graze day where he doesn't sneak over to the neighbor's place.
(And before anyone worries, we have a great relationship with the neighbor and Speedy is never in trouble with them.)