How Did the Boys Do?

The worst part about buying and selling the two houses was that I was simply not able to be out at the barn like I usually am. Like a lot of riders, I make notes about every barn visit: who got ridden, who got walked, who has an owie, and so on. While I shoot for seven days a week, I usually miss about three days a month.

That one was July's page. I didn't miss a single day, but that was because I was making up for the 16 days I missed while we were in Italy in June. Here's October's page - every slash is a non-barn day:

During the week of the 9th, I managed to run out and at least check on my boys, but that was it. One mid-week visit was simply not enough for Speedy G. The ranch owner sent me a text on the 16th saying that Speedy was lame at the walk.

Trusting her read on the situation, I didn't make it out that day, but I was there the next. Speedy looked decent at the walk, but he was grade three on a trot out. He still is, but at least he's looking better. There isn't a single mark to account for the lameness and he has no swelling or filling anywhere. I feel comfortable just waiting it out. As he has done so many times before, he probably just whacked himself during all of his pacing and whirling (in his enormous dry pasture). I am sure he's just bruised. 

It looks worse in person.

While pretty ugly, the gash in his face is less worrisome. I am glad I didn't see it on the day it happened because after a day or so it was still deep enough to put my finger in. I've been gently coating it with coconut oil, and it already looks much better. It's probably going to leave another scar, but it will be just one of many.

While a bit dirty and covered with flies, Izzy fared much better over the week. He had a couple of small nicks on his legs, but by the time I saw them, the skin was already flaking off and clean skin had already grown in. Instead of whirling and pacing like his dorky big brother, he spent his time digging a massive hole. 

While I love that Speedy adores me, I wish he didn't feel the need to pine for me so dramatically. Now that I have time to ride him again, he has to remain bored as he is too lame to ride. I sense an O. Henry tale in all of this. Irony ... it seems to be an essential part of horse ownership.