Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Very Nearly A No-Good-Very-Bad-Day.... But not quite.

At this rate, I wont make it to forty.
Why, you ask, when I'm not even thirty am I shelling out these dire predictions?
Because I lost another ten years off my life. These things are always horse related. And are starting to add up.

Now, it didn't start off as a No-good-very-bad day. It started off quite well. I loaded up the Ponitas (yes, both of them) and Bucky and headed off to a saddle fitting clinic at AG's.
Yay! New saddles! Am I right?

Delight finally got her super modified ebay steal fit to her wide-as-a-barn shoulders. She should be a hapy pony, even if she won't admit it for a while. In funny side notes: Delight had the third biggist heartgirth, coming in after Bucky's whopping 80 inches and another 17.2+h boy by a mere two inches.
Delight, that shouldn't be a point of pride.

In even better news, I dug out London's old saddle and brought it along in case it could be fit to Bucky so that my rides on him feel less like I'm being sloshed around like a dead thing.
It worked! And now I look like I can actually sit on my borrowed GP cart horse. Wee!
Who would have thought that when you borrow a horse (and saddle) from someone who's thigh bones are probably 6' longer than your own pathetic little drumsticks, the saddle will not work for you at all. Lesson learned. Never get rid of a saddle that fits, even if the horse dies.

Then, because I trailered all the way there and Tillner had her saddle fit in September, I took a lesson on the littlest Ponita. She was a champ. Until we asked for counter canter. Then she was an angry pony.
I love that her version of the angry pony just squats and tosses legs about. So much easier to ride than Delight's version of Angry Pony. And it makes you giggle, which upsets the Angry Pony.
Moral of the story: she should be set for this weekend. I hope.

And so I headed home, sweaty and happy.

Seriously, spring?

I made it nearly to the halfway point, when a casual check of my review mirror revealed black smoke pouring out of my driver side wheel well of the trailer.
WHAT ?!?!?!?!??!?
Heart rate increased immediately. Blood pressure through the roof. Emergency plans for worst case scenarios flying through my mind.

A good Samaritan who must have noticed the smoke at the same time that I did, pulled off to the shoulder with me. And even if he couldn't be of any help, since the tire turned out to be not shredded, as I initially assumed, It's always nice to see a stranger willing to help.
Faith in humanity restored on the side of HWY 6.

Anyway, the wheels were steaming hot, but the tires were fine. And thank god, the trailer wasn't on fire. With three horses in the trailer, isn't that always the worst case scenario that runs through your mind?
How will I get them out?
How will I hold them?
What should I do?

So I sat on the side of Hwy 6 for half an hour until the tires were cool enough to safely risk hauling to an empty parking lot. I don't know about you guys, but that was the tensest half an hour of my life, imagining every truck that flies by clipping the end of my trailer.

But I unplugged and replugged the trailer, set the brake gain to 0.0 (aka, driving with no brakes), and prayed to whatever deity may or may not exist that we could make it the mile and a half to Hempstead.
We did. And the only equine trauma suffered is when I asked Delight to share her hay net with Bucky since he had demolished his. Bucky could not figure out why huge bites wouldn't work with the small hole net. So hard.

Bucky is totally stymied by the small hole hay net
Delight hates sharing.
The wheels were cool, and the horses were happy. So I risked driving one more exit. The wheels remained cool, and the horses remained happy.
I downed my stress in a gallon of cold chocolate milkshake.

Sweet, sweet relief.
Today that trailer is in the shop.