|Abby, looking for her buddy.|
I am left to console Abby who is more herd-bound than most mares and tends to have a hissy fit whenever her barn mate is out of sight. I had the vet leave a whopping dose of tranquilizer when she was here last, because horses are not known for their analytical skills when they're in a panic. Someday, I'll tell you about the time Abby tried to jump into her stall over the closed bottom half of the door and got caught. A horrifying day for everyone involved, but happy ending, so it's all good and she's fine. I am sure my emotional scars will heal. In time.
We assembled Zoey's extensive wardrobe (this mare has more clothes than I do), pulled her mane, and generally spiffed her up. No one leaves my barn unless they're fat and shiny. I would have liked to ride her one last time but my back is out of whack again, and I'm not very bendy.
|Waiting for her ride.|
|Nesting birds will be thrilled with the pile of hair I pulled from Zoey's mane.|
|Rolling in the mud helps, apparently.|
|As do kisses and gingersnaps from Dad.|