He's probably already broke to ride, too!

So today's training goal was simple: approach Boo with a blanket and see where things went from there.

He's been cooped up for days, between the rains last week and my kidney infection this week, but was sane and sweet as always. Good boy. I brought him out and tied him to the Wonder Bungee (a stretchy lead rope, best tool ever for teaching the kids to tie) and spent a good 15 minutes grooming him. He's all dusty up top, which makes me happy because when he first arrived, he wasn't rolling much (getting back up was hard for him; he actually fell once, terrifying to watch). There's no way he's accumulating that much dust along his topline, though, without getting down on the ground and grinding it in. So, yes, happy.

After he was as shiny as I could make him - we skipped brushing his mane, because neither of us wanted to spend the extra 10 minutes getting THAT mop sorted out, we'll do it tomorrow - I went into the tack room and got the light cotton mesh sweat sheet that Mardi Gras' owners gave me when I got Boo.
(Backstory: two weeks before I adopted Boo, the huge 27-year-old Trakehner at our barn died suddenly of a major colic. His owners, having catered to his slightly neurotic whims for 24 years, were not planning on getting a new horse. Quite serendipitously, Boo is almost exactly the same size - will be, by the time he's 5 or 6 and fully muscled. They gave me EVERYTHING except their saddle, basically, for fractions of pennies on the dollar.)

So I walk up to Boo with this floppy white blanket in my hands and show it to him and he's like, "big deal, mom...." I lay it, folded in a square, over his back just behind the withers. He flicks an ear back and says, again, "uh... what? whatever!" I laugh at him and pull it off again and rearrange it like I'm actually going to blanket him this time, and put it back on, warning him verbally that there's a strap hanging down.

Boo is trying really hard not to question my sanity at this point, because clearly his mom is off her rocker, blanketing him on a hot sunny day AND making such a production of it. But he stands for me as I buckle the chest strap, and smooth the back part over his quarters, and fasten the surcingle. And then I step back and say to M... "Gosh, you think he's broke to ride, too? Seems to already know just about everything!"

We'll do this again either tomorrow or next week with a crinkly, hissy raincoat blanket, to be sure. But I think we're set for the rainy season. One less thing to worry about.

I can't WAIT to ride this horse!! (well, except, duh, I really can....)