Today, I found my 16.2h warmblood in an area of the field where I didn’t expect to see him.  It’s an area that periodically gets wet, and one of his favorite places to play.  Last spring, after he pulled a shoe for the second time, we cordoned it off with two bands of Horseguard tape and fiberglass posts (non-electrified).

As I got close to the area,  I saw that the lower band of tape was broken.  I removed the top band and walked in to lead him out.  He just got shod last week and I didn’t want him leaving one of his nice new shoes with the borium studs in the muck.

He acted as if he wanted to watch me repair the fence, but I knew he just wanted an opportunity to walk back in and slosh around.  I shooed him away and he obliged, being the gentleman he is.

As I repaired the fence, I wondered how he had gotten in.  He either jumped the top rail, at 3’6″, lay down and dragged himself in on his knees, or limboed underneath it. I know I’m dating myself here, but I remember doing the limbo at one of my birthday parties as a child.  It’s hard for me to imagine that he limboed in, but I have seen him walk on his knees to get a particularly delectable, almost-out-of-reach clump of grass, so anything is possible.

Maybe he’d like to be in Guy McLean‘s herd of show horses.  Guy put on the finale at Fantasia at the Equine Affaire this year and the crowd went wild.  He and his horses were incredible entertainers.

Or maybe my horse wants to be a jumper or eventer and not the dressage horse I’d like him to be.  If so, I have another reason to purchase Jimmy Wofford’s book “Gymnastics:  Systematic Training for Jumping Horses.”  The first was watching Jimmy’s clinics at the Equine Affaire this year.  I’ll be sharing them with you later on this week.

Why do I have this vision of my horse clapping his front hooves together?