-39F windchills = No turnout. I seriously bundled up, slipped
and inched my truck towards Judy’s. Nothing like black ice to make the drive a
bit more interesting!
The boys were eager to get out of their stalls. They
reminded me of a bunch of bored kids that are forced to stay home with nothing
much to do. I took Remy first into the indoor, and put him on the longe line.
He started sedately enough, but at the first noise he heard the rocket launcher
kicked in. Yihaa! I couldn’t blame him for it, he clearly needed an outlet for
all his pent-up energy. After a while though, it was “Earth to Remy”, and
luckily he listened to “Houston” – uh, “Clarkston” that is, and finished on a
good note. I took him on a long handwalk afterwards.
Saumur had only one thing in mind: Roll – and then roll some
more. He didn’t take off like the kid, but still was happy to get the kinks
out. More handwalking for him.
Ah, and the “crème de la crème“ for the day: Worming.
We don’t worm often, the necessity is usually determined by fecal counts (evidence
of worm eggs in the manure). About twice a year everyone gets a dose of medicine
at the same time.
My mission-accomplished note to Judy: “Boys plus my coat were
wormed successfully”!
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