Yesterday I dragged myself outside thinking that, with another cold Arctic blast on the way, I needed to exercise Dante or he would start to lose ground again. He stuck his head into the halter, as usual, and came quietly into the barn to be tacked up...
...and immediately started clowning around. I had my back to him, and Rachelle was talking to me when suddenly her face changed to a sort of "What the heck....?" expression and she looked behind me. I turned around and looked right down into Dante's sideways throat. Yes, sideways. He had backed up, thrust his head forward, tipped it 90 degrees sideways, and opened in mouth wide so it looked like a pipe with teeth. I laughed.
"He's feeling pretty good!" I said. So I took off his blanket. He's had it on for about 4 days and was looking pretty good the last time I took it off. But this time--no ribs. No ribs! I haven't seen Dante's chest without wincing in months and months! He looks like a regular horse now! Of course, there's more work to be done, but what a huge improvement!
So I saddled him up while he tried to pick me up by my coat. I laughed and Rachelle frowned--she's right, I shouldn't let him get away with that stuff, but I'm just so relieved that he's trying it--and got his bareback saddle on, and bridle, and off we went.
By "went" I mean something rather distinctive to racehorses. He didn't try to run away with me, but in every other way this horse was begging, just begging, to be allowed to open up in a gallop. Of course, we just couldn't do that because everything was under about 18 inches of snow, but his attitude was delightful. We did get in a nice canter, and I keep learning just how many gears he has between a canter so slow a gentle trot would outstrip him and a dead run (which I've never experienced on him). At the end of every canter he doesn't even breathe hard.
That's all I have time for--but taking off his blanket yesterday was like unwrapping a Christmas present.
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