Conversations with Jackson

Today we have a red flag alert; high winds and high heat.  You may have read about all the fires in Southern California: out towards Malibu, up in the San Gabriel mountains, but thankfully not close to us (knock on wood).  The breeze kept the trees at a steady easy leftward lean with periodic gusts that whipped up the dust and obscured the barn.

I flew back home last night on the last flight out of Sacramento.  Construction on the freeway between the airport and home further delayed an already late night and it was past 1am when I crawled into bed.  That's late for me; I'm usually nodding off before 10pm.  Between the wind and the lack of sleep, I was not very motivated today.  I worked in the morning, and we then talked to our realtor about another counter on that dressage facility house we like. 

After lunch, I dragged myself to the barn.

Me: Hey, Jackson, wake up. 

Jackson: Were you talking to me?

Me: Yeah, we're gonna hang out together.  Jackson: Well, hurry up already.  And bring me a cookie.

Me: First the shedding blade, ok?  Jackson: Yeah, that thing feels good.  I'm feeling hot and itchy.

Me: And then you're getting a bath.  Your tail and back legs are disgusting.  Jackson: You know I have a sensitive stomach.  It takes me a week to adjust to a new batch of hay. 

Me: Well that's a huge improvement.  When you are dry, I'll groom you.

Jackson:  This grass may be brown, but its still tasty.

Winston: What gives here?  She's gone all week, comes home and takes out the cripple?  Mufasa: It's just not right.  If the head guy were home, he'd let us out.

Eat your heart out, boys.  She loves me best. 

Tuffy: Why is Jackson outside grazing and we're stuck in here?

Winston: Oh, look.  She's bringing Jackson in.  Maybe it will be my turn now.  Mufasa: I wouldn't count on it.

Jackson: Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Jackson: I'd like to stay and chat but I'm going to catch a drink at the cooler and then relax.  Later, boys.