We were pretty close to having a mutiny on our hands yesterday morning.
We arrived at the barn as the sun was rising,
and instead of opening the gates to the front pasture for the horses to graze,
we, instead, threw down some hay for their breakfast.
"Hay?" they said, stomping their feet and whinnying in protest.
And with that they all lined up at the pasture gate and staged a
"It's hay or nothing this morning," said I. "The farrier is coming at eight."
Seven "harrumph"s later, they set about consuming their breakfast...
whinnying an occasional complaint as they chewed.
The farrier arrived right on schedule, and we got down to business.
He trimmed feet.
I brushed manes and worked on shedding some of their voluminous winter coats.
Ollie helped me with clean up.
As I swept the fur off the stall floor,
he stood on the dust pan, trying his best to turn it over.
I am always amazed at just how much fur these equines grow in response to winter.
I have no doubt that they are never cold,
as they all wear fur coats that are enviable.
Unfortunately, however, they just don't shed it back out again quite fast enough
when spring arrives.
That's where I come in.
I use the shedding tools and...