This morning when I went down to do the morning chores, there were still patches of snow here and there. The pasture was sloppy mud in places where the melting snow was running through. I brought all the horses into the barn for their morning buckets of supplements. While they were in, and while I mucked the pasture, I let Jackson out with me. I knew the poor boy had cabin fever in the worst way. The first thing he did was slide down the hill to say hello to Kalvin.
Then he walked down to the sandy area and rolled. And rolled. And rolled. He jumped to his feet and bucked in place a few times. Then he was ready to go back in his stall for his morning hay. Flash and Kalvin didn't understand why they couldn't be out with Jackson. They don't understand that wet weather makes Jackson's feet soft and more susceptible to a laminitis flare up. So, they watched Jackson intently but were not allowed to participate.
After Jackson was back in his stall, I let them back out and gave them their breakfast hay in the pasture. It was very cold, in the 40sF, and breezy but the sun was out. Winston did a few laps before settling down to eat.
I noticed that the ancient plum tree behind the barn and compost piles is in bloom, as is its little baby volunteer. The old tree was here when we moved in and I had no idea how beautiful it is until I trimmed it. The trunk is very interesting, all twisty like a piece of red licorice. It started bearing fruit a few years ago after it was pruned and then a baby tree sprouted. They seem to be doing well.
By noon, the patches of snow were completely melted. It was still cold, but the sun was bright and everything seemed calm in the pasture. I let Jackson out to eat lunch with the herd. The turnout behind his stall, where he was standing, is sloppy wet so the pasture is actually a bit drier. I was pretty sure the ricky racing was over and he'd have a sedate afternoon.
I was wrong. At 2:00 I looked out the window and there was Winston doing laps. He was galloping at full speed from the bottom of the pasture, up the hill to the turnout gates and back down again. He was chasing the donkeys and Jackson who all initially joined in but then stopped. Winston was racing, full speed, throwing in bucks and kicks while Flash and Jackson stood still and watched him. Jackson would step to the side to avoid Winston, but Flash never moved a muscle. After 15 laps, I stopped counting. Oh, to be four years old and full of vinegar!!