15 minutes of Success

This morning I went out and rode the wild and crazy Duquesne.

Ah, that's a lie. At 15 years old, Dink doesn't get very wild and crazy anymore. Especially when he and I have both been getting hardly any exercise for months. I saddled the Little Duke up, avoiding being bitten, and hauling a mounting block into the arena, got into the saddle and rode for 15 minutes. I probably would have ridden longer (which would have been really stupid) but the Messengers of God had inspired the ranch owners to go on vacation to the coast, (where it is cold enough that they will all need warm coats) and thus the ranch gates were locked and I could not venture onto the orchard roads with my horse.

I didn't feel as badly afterwards as I did last week, so I'm thinking a regimen of riding for about half an hour on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday this next week is in order. Much of that will depend upon how I feel tomorrow. Tonight I feel tired, but not beaten to a pulp. Muscle spasms are at a minimum, although I'll still take Valerian tonight and hope for a peaceful sleep.

And so it will be a Horse Week. In addition to riding, I'll be hosting the farrier on Wednesday, holding Dink's head while the shoer works on his front feet so that the fearsome Duquesne doesn't bite him, and holding Dink's tail so that he doesn't whack the shoer while he works on the hind feet. I also get the "privilege" of holding a friend's mare while the shoer takes care of her. Nobody tell her I hate mares.

And it's still too freakin' hot.