What do you do when life hands you a whole CRATE of lemonades?

meyer lemons--at least they are yummy

I’m thinking–make Margaritas!

Did you ever have one of those days?  Or in my case lately, two or three of those days?

I had a fantastic ride on Thursday.  Awesome.  Submission-check!  Half-halts-check!  Practicing in a light rain-check!  A credible run through Second level test 1-check! (Sans medium gaits, of course)  Bravo was light, he was responsive, he was sound–truly the reason we riders really do this.  I had a 2-day clinic planned in Wilson NC at Wooten Stables with Anne Aloi, and was really looking forward to spending the weekend away learning, watching, and also having fun with some of my friends.  Friday I planned to have a quick ride after work, clean my tack, pack and prepare the trailer, and give Bravo a bath.  When I arrived I put Bravo in the cross-ties, brushed and tacked up, and hopped on.  And Bravo was lame.  Not just lame–LAME!

@$#&^*^$#^%$*(*^&%%$#!!!!!!!!!

No heat, no pulse, no swelling, positive hoof testers through the Equicast at the toe.  Darn, the bruise is back.  I was only minimally dejected–we’ve been there before and usually a day off put him back right.  A dose of Ketofen later, I finished my original plan to get ready for the weekend.

But it was not meant to be.  Any of it.  I’m still trying to handle myself with grace and aplomb, but really I want to cry.  A call from the barn just as I was about to get in the car started the downward spiral.  Apparently Bravo was standing in the stall on 3 legs. Now what?  When I arrived, there he was, standing with his right fore in the air.  His pastern was puffy and his digital pulse was bounding as I led my rickety boy to the wash stall.  I rasped off the fairly pristine cast, grabbed the hoof testers, and quickly found the abscess. Minimal exploration with the hoof knife revealed a small garden pea-sized cavity in the toe that those pesky bacteria had been excavating overnight.  I packed the hole, added poultice, threw on a boot and decided I would hope for the best and try to enjoy my weekend.  At worst, it should be a weekend with friends, auditing some good instruction; and at best I might be able to actually do a brief lesson on Sunday.

I’ll cut right to the chase.  Bravo did not go totally sound–in fact despite 4 soakings/packings/poultices he actually worsened (I decided to just let the poultice do it’s job and will look for more abscess pockets tomorrow). I zoned out and missed the exit for 264/Wilson and had to grab my iPhone and recalculate my route–adding 15 or so extra minutes to the drive.  I forgot my bag of foods/snacks both to share for our group lunch and containing all the foods that are safe for me to eat (I have dietary restrictions).   An auction I was hotly watching/bidding on for a youth dressage saddle ended and I missed out by $7.  Sunday morning I forgot my aforementioned phone on the bumper of the truck after putting my suitcase into the truck bed–yes, it was recovered, after being run over by a car–and no, there’s not an “app for that”.  Wisely, I opted to follow a friend back to the Raleigh area in case I had (more) problems now that I was phone-less, and spilled my soda on my white T-shirt when we stopped for lunch.  The piece de resistance was watching the rubber of my driver’s side windshield wiper split and fly off during a (thankfully) brief summer thunderstorm, leaving me with about 10 feet of visibility, and then having that same storm decide to briefly dump on me again as I was unloading my poor sad pony into his comfy stall.

And now, once I hit “publish”, I’m going to bed, even though it’s only 6:53 pm.  I’m afraid I might slip in the shower and crack my head open or fall down the stairs and break my leg.

-Robyn

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