I brushed my horse and, if you know me well, you would realise that this is something I don’t do very often. Hardly ever actually. A bit like cleaning the house. It’s just not for me.
There was a good reason for this sudden rush of blood to the head.
I was already tacked up when Daisy arrived back from work, so I waited for her to fetch Taktur out of his field, tack him up and then we went out for a lovely Sunday afternoon ride together.
I even brushed Klængur’s “chrystanthemum” bottom and trimmed his tail as its winter and I hate tails trailing in the mud and being stepped on. That must hurt.
However, I did not brush the dog. That would be one step too far.
We were all slightly less beautiful upon our return.
A sudden rain shower on our way home.
After the ride, we moved the Old Men to their Winter field which is across the hill – 5 acre “Clothie”.
They all love this field and it is perfect for spending winter in, as long as it doesn’t turn to mud. Then life just gets depressing. I am not hopeful.
Bright rainbow! Hope it means good days ahead. 🙂
Brushing her mag is a death wish. Brushing the horse, not so much.