Horse Rehab Among the horses we bought to put work into and resell was Denny, a big, chestnut Morgan gelding of substance and stature. We didn’t go looking for him. Rather, he found us. I knew of him. That he’d been in a bad wreck while being
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The Retired Life Retirement for Chico was pretty good. At least, I think from a horse’s point of view, it would be. He got to hang around with his buddies, grazed to his heart’s content, and still got all the scratches and rubs, he got before. If
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The Good Life There’s nothing like a sore rear, to give a horse time off. Mine that is, not the horse’s. Until the black and blue yield sign I was wearing faded, and the pain ebbed, I wasn’t going to do much riding. Chico didn’t mind the
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The Pity Buy Chico was about the best pity buy ever. He proved over and over again that he was worth bringing home. He was the horse you grabbed if you were feeling lazy, and wanted a completely predictable ride. He was the horse that was never
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Missing If Smokey was off her long tether back at the land I rented, or even at the neighbour’s farm, I wouldn’t be all that worried. I knew where she’d be, bugging the other horses, teasing and taunting, lording her freedom over them. This was something different.
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