There are days of course when I just want to throw up my hands into the air and give the horses (with cash) to the first taker. This is usually later in the day when I am tired and I still have to clean the pen, feed them, cut them some brush, clean up the hitching post area, and pick up Tyra’s mess (she routinely trips over the tack box and for no good reason at all).

There is also the matter of figuring out what works the best for them in all aspects of their lives, tack an incidental but oh so very important.

When I acquired Raudi, everyone told me that she was going to cost me. I thought I’d be the exception to this rule. I remember purchasing a grooming brush at Animal Food Warehouse and thinking oh, I won’t need to buy much of anything else besides food for a few years. Then all I will need will be a saddle and a bridle.

Much to my dismay, it all became dreadfully complicated in short order. The saddles, I had so many choices – there are ones (for example) with trees and ones without them. And bridles, there are ones (for example) with bits and ones without.

And so, there were many saddles and many bridles.

Hrimmi's new boots

And it never ends for any of us. The day before yesterday Sarah G. came over with her Tennessee Walker, Spiffy, with a new Specialized saddle in hand. It had these foam/neoprene pads that you Velcro to the saddle – this then allows the horse owner to “build” the saddle to fit the horse. Pete and Sarah futzed around with the saddles and the pads for a few hours. I observed because it seemed to me that a third viewpoint was a complication. Sarah did use our impression pad, in order to determine where the pressure might be on Spiffy’s back. After this was sorted out we went for a lengthy ride. Horse and rider both seemed happy with the fit.

And today, at midday, Pete told me that the new Renegade boots were in the mailbox. I drove down there, picked them up, and brought them home. Pete then began futzing with them, in preparation for putting them on Hrimmi.

Futzing is the operative word. These boots are like Sarah’s saddle – dreadfully complicated. You have to adjust the cables that tighten the things with an Allen key. I just went about my business, tacking up the horses, thinking that once Pete figures out the ins and outs of these things, that he can then show me how to put them on and remove them.

Like Sarah’s saddle, the boots were worth the investment. Pete and I went for a ride – I rode Raudi and he rode Hrimmi. These boots were to her liking. She walked on the gravel roadway with considerable assurance and when asked, she trotted and cantered. I’ll never call her Moo Moo again. Rather, I’m going to call her Flame because she is so fleet in her orange boots.

My sense this evening is that we made the absolute right choice in getting these boots for Hrimmi. We are headed to the Poor Farm, but we are headed there happy.

Next: 175. 6/24/18: The Childhood Dream