Not the Weekend I was Expecting - Part 2

Since I didn't have a lesson on Saturday, I slept in. And since I wasn't going to ride, I piddled around the house, completed my mail-in ballot, and did some laundry. By the time I made it out to the barn, it was in the lows 80s with a clear blue sky. I decided that Speedy was due for some pampering.

I swear he read my mind.

With Speedy, baths and grooming are part of a love-hate relationship. He loves to be clean and enjoys the attention, but he hates getting wet. He wouldn't walk through a puddle if his feet were on fire. My bathing station is next to his girl Allie, but it didn't matter; he was miserable for the entire bath. Even though I hurried, he was eventually a shivering pile of pissed off pony. Speedy has too much class to bite or kick or shove me around. Instead, he throws disgusted looks over his shoulder and reminds me that I am lucky to be allowed in his presence.

When he was squeaky clean, we hung out on the lawn so that he could dry off. I thought I could flip through TikTok and relax, but Speedy needed to remind me that I had hurt his feelings. Instead of grazing politely, he turned into a fire breathing dragon and put on an Arabian show. He huffed and puffed and piaffed in circles until I finally walked over and grabbed Izzy to join us. That wasn't the best plan either because then I found that I had a fire cracker in one hand and a tank in the other. Guess which one was which.

He so desperately wanted to turn his nose up at the grass, but he is a horse, so ...

By the time Speedy was dry, I was a sweaty, dirty mess. Fortunately, he had  enough tact to not stop, drop, and roll as soon as I put him away. It helped that I had thrown him some lunch, but I am quite sure he enrolled a good sandy roll once I had driven away.

He hasn't been this clean since last September.

While I thought I would spend my Saturday differently, it was hard not to enjoy an afternoon with my best boy.