Smoke 'em while you've got 'em

I've heard the jokes about Minneapolis having two seasons, road repair and snow removal (or is it road removal and snow repair?), and sometimes in despair I think the same thing about the DC area. Granted, our roads rarely seem to actually get better, but the weather does go from being raw and nasty to ghastly humid and hot, and the bits in between are easy to forget. But finally, FINALLY, May is getting it together.

I took advantage of the gorgeous weather last night to work Doc out on the trails. There not being much to do in Texas, I had watched a lot of RFD TV, which is great when it's showing horsemanship programs and either boring or actively irritating when it's showing tractor episodes or country music, respectively. (Anyone who ever wondered about the special hell? It's Branson, Missouri. Now straighten up and live right.) One of the horse guys, Clinton Anderson and His Teeth, did a special on using trail obstacles like trees and rocks to give your horse a chance to practice outside the ring, and what with the weather being gorgeous, Doc and I spent about 20 minutes doing slalom courses and figure eights around the beeches and working on side passes to get around pebbles. He remains very suspicious of the deer, which is a pity because they are surprisingly persistent for creatures that project such a sense that they might run off at any minute. "Aaaany minute now, just give us timorous beasties the excuse," they seem to say, and yet they're still there a minute later, chewing their cud and startling the horses. Doc wanted to keep an eye on them, but we moved farther into the woods and he relaxed. We stopped and backed and went forward and sideways and wound through the trees, and he handled all of it with his usual calm.

The thing is, Doc is what they call bombproof. He is unflappable; he is basically flap-free. This is great for the barn, which can put the therapeutic riding kids and the little beginner kindergarteners and terrified adults (he's a big lad) on him, and at most he will sigh and reach to rub his nose on a nearby post. That keeps him working, but it also means that he rarely gets to do anything interesting under saddle. Getting him into Western classes, though, we found that he loves to run, with a great leaping canter that's less rocking horse and a lot more ship in the high seas. Put another horse next to him at that speed, and by God you'd better be ready for the gallop. He also gets a kick out of jumping, pricking his ears up and stretching forward if you so much as point him at a crossbar. So we did both of those, kicking up great amounts of dust and flying over low jumps for a little while, and I probably had a big stupid grin on my face for most of it. We finished up with another stroll past the still-suspect deer and through the gloaming. I don't know what he thinks about our work together, but I can't get enough of it.

In other news, the Goo is now filled with gravitas, and I for one had the hangover to prove it.