The Incorrect Assumption that the Weather Mirrors Our Moods...

I'm not actually in a bad mood today.  In fact, a rain day is good because it forces me to do jobs I usually put off because I have to be outside.

Well... to be totally honest, I never run out of jobs, I'm easily distracted, and I'm pretty good at procrastinating.

In any case, it's pouring out there today.  It has been since last night.  The corral is soaked, the eavestroughs on the house are overflowing, and the horses smell like wet horse.  It's not as bad as wet dog.

That lovely spotted gelding of mine is wearing pretty purple bandages on his hind legs since yesterday afternoon when I went to pick his hooves before a ride and discovered he wouldn't put any weight on his left hind.  I don't think it's a severe injury. He's already walking much better this morning.  Yesterday evening he came loping into the corral on 3 1/2 legs and I figured he'd live.  He's supposed to work tomorrow after school.  I hope he's okay.

Of course it could still be raining by then.  I can work around that, though.  I just give Phoenix the day off while the kid and I sit in the tack room learning about bits and bridles.

I still hope he's okay.  Partly, I worry about the potential vet bill, but also I just hate seeing him sore.  He's a real sweet guy and I prefer to see his face all relaxed and happy.  Mind you, I'm convinced he kind of likes the occasional ouchie.  He looooves the attention.

I spent close to two hours in the open shed with my two horses.  I changed Phoenix's bandages.  I washed Copper's eyes, and rubbed zinc cream on her muzzle to heal up the last of the sunburn scabs.  I reminded myself that even if it isn't hot anymore, the sun is still strong enough to burn her little pink nose.  I combed my fingers through Phoenix's white forelock.  They each got enough of a forehead scratch to make them close their eyes, and twitch their droopy lips in happiness.

I love that.

Some days, I love fussing over them even more than riding them.

We stood under the doorway as the rain drilled past us.  I thought about getting the Old Order Mennonite guys out to put eavestroughs on the south side of the barn roof.  They'd have it done in a day, easily.  Then I wouldn't get drenched on days like these, just trying to get in the barn door.

Eventually I took down the ropes blocking the doorways, and the horses eagerly stepped out into the rain. They don't give a crap about rain.  It's not cold today.  There's nice juicy grass to eat in the pasture.

I watched them cross the sticky wet corral.  Phoenix walked more carefully than usual.  Each hoof slid slightly, but there was only a slight hesitation on the sore leg.  The Little Lady followed him walking all ladylike and polite.  Once he got out to the grass, Phoenix trotted like he was testing out the new legs, and then loped lazily to the other end of the field.  After I put all my stuff away, I peeked out and saw them at the far fence, grazing like normal.

In the house, my Pug was curled up on a couch cushion, looking at me like he was waiting there all morning for me to join him.  He'll have to go out in the rain for a walk (and a dump) one of these hours, but he clearly believes that a rain day means a slow day.

It's grey, trucks swish by on the highway, and I'm thinking maybe it's me who mirrors the weather, not the other way around.