By George, I Think He’s Got It

Supposed to be a dramatic recreation of Rodney being proud of himself. Too many flies.

Since our riding supervisor has been occupied keeping the ship afloat, Rodney and I have been going on handwalks most of last week & weekend.

This simple exercise has been the scene of some of his worst come-aparts [Explosion]. When I say simple, I mean s-i-m-p-l-e. I am asking him to stroll once or twice around the mid-size pasture in which he lives 24/7. He routinely grazes out of sight of the barn. When ask him to walk out of sight of the barn? Anxiety meter flips to max. Mind you, no saddle, no marching along briskly. Plod-in-halter would not be a unjust description.

For a while, we did half loops [Progress]. Then walks up and down one side. Recently, he’s put on his big boy britches and done full laps of the pasture. He’s been fine. No running off (in truth that hasn’t happened for a while now. Knock wood.) No speeding up. But I still sensed lingering concern when we came around that far back corner.

On Friday, light seemed to dawn. ‘Oh, we’re walking. Around the pasture. I can do this. This is easy. I got this.’ The question is ridiculously basic and has taken far too long, but he’s so delighted with himself for figuring it out.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

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