Today he groomed the dressage court so the sand would be fluffy when I ride this weekend.
And did some mowing and weeding (tumbleweed removal).
He kept an eye on the horses, and they kept an eye on him.
He groomed the small arena as well.
Lucy wanted attention as usual.
and Pistol asked for treats.
It was a beautiful day and would have been perfect if the goats hadn't slipped out again, the diesel fuel hadn't spilled all over Brett's jeans, and turning the harrow over to get the arenas perfectly groomed hadn't messed up his back.
Nobody ever said this life would be easy; and it isn't. But we wouldn't trade it for anything (on most days).