Since I am headed out to a camping trip for the next few days I figured I better get a ride in on Norman before I leave. So I hopped on and he decided to test my seat. It’s been a while since he’s done that; apparently he forgot that I’m not going anywhere. The view from up top looks a heck of a lot better than the view when you hit the ground. Silly horse, he should know that.
Well my dad happened to be roaming around the back pasture just looking for something to do, so I told him I was headed into the round pen, and to close the gate behind me. After a few laps around at a trot my dad walks over and says to me, “You know he’s gonna be four next year.” Yep…I know. Then, “You know when we got Mare, she had just turned four, and Mom was already running her. Because the people we got her from had her ready to go on barrels.” Trust me, I know. Thanks for the reminder. (Oh–Mare is Norman’s mom. Clever barn name, right?) So I said to him, “Well that’s because it was those people, and this is me.” He conceded, saying, “But that’s what they do.” Exactly! Then I said I might just ship Norman off to be trained, and my dad laughed. I might not be joking….we’ll see.
My dad and I continued to talk, and our measure of Norman doing “better,” revolved around things like: not biting AS much, not responding to the dog when she barks wanting to play, and standing still. Hey, it makes us feel better.