Ponyboy Comes Home

Since I keep recieving text messages detailing how exceptionally sad my "summer posts" are making them, I will move on. Besides, it's time to start moving on a little bit, isn't it? The most exciting, happiest news of all is that Jingle, (also referred to as Baby-boy, Wild-boy, Jingle-Bell-Rock, Jingle-Bells, Pretty-Boy-Rock and sometimes... swear words) has come home, and is now a resident of the barn I rode and took lessons at during the winter!

Here I shall detail his trip home...

We arrived at the ranch to the site of horses all over the place, the one in the centre, Flare, refused to get out of the way of our truck and trailer. Happy to bring my horse home? Yes, yes indeed.

Jingle has only ever been run onto a stock trailer, so we wondered if my friend's straight-load with a ramp would be an issue. Being the ever-intelligent, over-compensating mother, I put shipping boots on my boy... which caused him to walk like a spider... "Where, do, I, put, my, legs". So he proceeded to high-step right up the ramp and into the trailer, due to the confusion of the soft stuff velcro'd on to his legs. Good boy.

"Mom, what is happening?"

"Mom, I know you think I look cute in these boots, but I'd like them off now, oh by the way - where are we?"

"Mom, are you leaving me in this thing?"

"Mom..."

"MOM?!"

Jingle proceeded to bang and whinny for quite awhile in the trailer, but ultimately survived the trip home. When we arrived to the barn he seemed pretty excited to just look around at things, remember, he is a creep, and a total people watcher.

Jingle in his quarantine pen...

"Mom, there's hay in here... excellent."

"Go away now, I'm hanging out with my hay"

Then, I proceeded to groom big baby, anyone that knows me and my horsie, knows that, that is a ritual I really do love.

And then I put him away from the night, and was of course the most nervous for his well-being, but he did really good!

Then, the epic adventure of finding him a saddle began, my Circle Y wasn't fitting and the folks at Frontier in Claresholm told me they'd take it off my hands - excellent. I couldn't trailer Jingle out there, as I do not have my own trailer, but I brought home a 10x Frontier Cutter hoping it would fit - nope, not at all. The next day I went and under the excellent, but expensive guidance, of the tack manager I found this beauty:

A Jeff Smith roughout cowhorse... absolutely beautiful...

so pretty... so expensive...

and, it turned out to fit my high maintenance bush-pony...

He seemed happy, that's all that matters...

and then I rode him in the indoor arena for the first time. Jumps? no big. Fake flowers? no big. Everything I ever hand to him? ain't no thang.

So of course, he gets his grain.

"Mom, go away now please"

So, I'm very proud of my boy. He's taking this new environment in stride and is doing very well.

But his mother? and her slight tack obsession, well.... small confined tack lockers are a struggle...

Two favourite bridles, as well as my two favourite halters (Weaver rawhide tie noseband, and monogrammed nylon halter) & his back and front splint boots.

Progression of a tack locker:

Helmet, rubbermaid, breast collar and cooler

Bits, notepad, pens, extra dewormer...

Extra reins (english and barrel loop reins), lunging stuff, and shampoo, conditioner, extra grooming things...

Everything stuffed into the locker...

Including extra grain bucket, which doesn't fit... I need to start slimming down on my things I think...

All and All I am exceptionally happy, Jingle is doing very well in his new environment and I couldn't be happier that I can just bounce on down the highway to see my baby. Life is so good when I have him close by. To even think that I now, officially, own him and can do whatever I damn well please with him, brings the absolute biggest smile to my face. He's my baby, wouldn't have it any other way.