What happens when you’re comfortably dumb in your morphine haze and tell your husband to do his own Christmas gift shopping, and you forget that your husband considers the horse to be his little princess girl: You end up with pink.
Alvin and Pilar are bestest buddies already. She follows him around like a little dog — mostly for the treats and the backrubs, but in time those two are going to have a very special bond, just like Alvin and Logan had. It makes me very happy to watch them; there is something genuine and, well, real about friendship and mutual respect across species like that.
Pilar has settled in very well. She got a bit of a rough time from red Icelandic horse Ari the first night, but now her main concern is running up and down the hilly paddock to build up some muscle strength. She aced her vet check Tuesday; she needs to gain muscle and she has skin mites. She took her injection against mites with monastic levels of tranquility, and the hilly paddock is going to do wonders for her physical form and shape, along with generous amounts of hay.
She aced her first riding lesson yesterday during which she learned that the idea isn’t to follow the others around but to walk as instructed by the reins. At first she was a little excited and danced a bit, but she quickly settled into a comfortable pace and even walked over coloured poles on the ground with much curiosity and interest. I only let her walk for thirty minutes since she is so badly out of shape, but I’m absolutely positive we’ll be flying around before you know it.
The first trick she learned is the best though: She comes trotting up when you whistle. So much easier to get her out of the bloody paddock that way!