Until last week, this was the only fly mask Tristan has ever worn.
It has held up through eight years: games of halter tag, rainstorms, endless rolls, six barns, countless different turnouts. It has been retrieved from mud and puddles and knee-high grass and once, when he had an eye funkiness going on, snow.
It’s a Wrangler Fly Mask, and had I my choice, I would never buy another kind. I bought it almost by accident at first. I wanted something with a better edging over the nose, since it hits exactly at his halter scar, and this has a line of nicely stitched neoprene at the nose.
I had bought a replacement for it years ago because I loved how well it held up. They were not easy to find even a few years ago, and given that a Google search now turns up only some scattered Ebay listings, they’re no longer made.
I rode out one last time to find this one, and located it quickly in the tall grass, but upon picking it up and examining it, realized it was probably time to retire.
I won’t throw it away, because I have Issues, but it’s no longer in active use.
Rest in peace, best fly mask ever.