Horses are finally turned out to pasture

After what must be one of the longest, coldest, and eventually the muddiest winters I can remember, the horses at both my favorite locations, We Can Ride in Minnetonka and Cross Creek near Cologne, are finally being turned out to graze on fresh grass. Granted, that has to be monitored; some colic easily, others founder on its richness. But by and large this signals at last an end to the angst of slopping around in mud the texture of potter's clay, in wells so deep they sucked the boots off my feet. In that instance I was walking around in my stocking feet trying to pry my boots out of the mud while the horses gathered in a circle and rolled their eyes.

But catching horses in mud is one thing; picking mud out of hooves is another. There are layers and layers of mud compacted into their hooves. I have had to wear sunglasses to keep from having it splatter into my eyes. I finally found a process -- I pick as much as I can, then take the horse to the shower stall and wash its feet. It might even give me a foot to spray. And then I towel the feet off and start to pick again.

The mud was only exceeded in frustration by ice which packed their hooves, creating little rocking-horse feet that can only be dangerous. That required a screwdrives and at times skill beyond my level.

But now they are out; a lovelier site I cannot think of to behold. The dream of summer has begun. And tomorrow Canterbury Park opens.

Sometimes angst is just a precurser to bliss. :-)