Both Mufasa and Lucy were happy to come out. I noticed dapples on Lucy the other day; a sign of good health. As I tacked her up, I noted that she is a tad too healthy. The girth was a good two holes shorter than usual. Lucy's belly is quite round.
Lucy, I said, are you sure you didn't jump out some night and get knocked up?
How rude. Of course I didn't. I'm a respectable girl.
Yeah, right. I've seen you lift your tail for Jackson, and Flash, and Mufasa not to mention Taco and Coyote across the road.
Up at the dressage court, I walked Lucy out into the new sand so she could check it out before I got on. It wasn't necessary. She walked next to me, relaxed as can be.
What's the big deal? I see sand. I've been looking at sandy arenas my whole life. Boring.
We didn't ride long. The sand is quite deep and both horse were huffing and puffing a bit. Lucy was not off at all. Clearly, the lack of cushion before had been what was causing her pain. She felt wonderful. My happy, forward girl was back. (No, Lucy, we aren't going to canter yet. Don't get so excited.)
After I removed her tack, I did a few minutes of body work with Lucy. She wasn't particularly cooperative.
What are you doing? Can I eat those dandelions? I need to turn around. Fidget, fidget, fidget. I stayed with her although I wasn't sure that I was getting any release at all.
Afterwards, I walked her back to the pasture and took off her halter. She stood next to me and yawned. And yawned. And yawned. I was ecstatic. Yawning is the biggest release you can get. In the Masterson bodywork course, I learned that some horses won't give the release during the bodywork but will immediately after you finish.
Lucy walked over to her favorite rolling spot and started sniffing the ground, a sure sign that a roll is imminent. Instead of rolling, though, she stood rooted to the spot and yawned some more.
Then she walked off to graze.
Happy healthy horse. Happy me.