Walking, walking, walking some more

We did more handwalking yesterday. It was 52, and overnight it dropped down to 37; it was still 39 for my drive to work this morning. SMH, as the kids these days are saying.

Please enjoy these really, really bad pictures of my horse, who could not decide from the buffet of options to be angry about: the wind, the cold, the lack of treats, my refusal to let him eat grass, wearing his sheet again when he thought he was done, you name it. He settled for being punky and grumpy about everything, which was by turns frustrating and adorable.

(Not a good picture, but this is a classic Tristan face, worried eye and slightly belligerent attitude. Oh, pony.)

He even had his mouth open. SO CLOSE. 
Dear Tristan: undo your Cushings and you can have spring grass. Fair enough?

(Foot progress: vet will jog out today, x-rays going off to the specialty radiologist this week, looks sound to my eyes, we’ll see.)

One thought on “Walking, walking, walking some more

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