All Dressed Up

There is nothing that pleases me more than a shedding horse.  Yes, it's a nuisance to be covered in horse hair, hair that seems to penetrate all forms of clothing and makes even your tongue feel a little fuzzy by the end of a good grooming.  I'm thankful that my horse is a bay and not some lighter color.  It makes the horse hair less obvious when it coats the inside of your car.  But the reason a shedding horse makes me absolutely giddy is because its a sure sign that spring, with its promises of renewal, rebirth and warmer temperatures, is just around the corner.

Who needs Puxatony Phil when you have a horse?  Wassachusetts started to slough his winter coat sometime at the end of February, which was, in my mind, a sure sign that spring was coming early this year.  Currying with feverish abandon, I willed spring to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of a desolate winter, rationalizing that the more hair I could coax off of his body, the sooner the sun would start to shine, flowers bloom and temperatures to rise.

During our lesson last week, my phenomenal trainer instructed me to have Wassachusetts's legs clipped to get rid of his "Clydesdale" look.  It was true.  Although I'd been pushing for spring's early birth, I'd been neglecting my spring cleaning.

That day, Wassachusetts got his first bath since October.  Snow white soap suds almost instantly turned earthen brown as I scrubbed and massaged the cleaning agent into his fur, further loosening gobs of winter hair, dander and other creepy crawlies that might have been lurking under his blankets all winter long.  Meanwhile, Wassachusetts was absorbed in the moment and took bath time as an opportunity to rub and scratch up against the sponge relieving all of those terrible itchy, shedding spots.

The next day, we started to tackle the great bush of unruly mane that had been allowed to sprout and grow in every direction - thanks to numerous cowlicks sprinkled up the poor beast's neck - over the cold winter months.  All was fine and good until I reached his pole area.  Wassachusetts cast a semi-wild eye in my direction daring me to start yanking hair.  We came to mutual understanding: I would pull tiny bits and then massage the area before pulling the next few strands of hair.  Again, I was reminded to remain patient and also respectful of my horse.

Last but not least was taking on the "Clydesdale" in my thoroughbred.  Here's a sampling:

My self-confidence was wavering at the thought of sheering off his leg hair.  I didn't want to give him a noticeably bad hair cut that would make him look less than the proud and regal animal that he is.  Fortunately, my good friend at the barn is the premiere in-house horse clipper.  Without a second thought, she took her sharpened blades and reformed Wassachusetts in short time.  The end result transformed him from work horse to refined riding steed:

I'm feeling the effects of spring as well.  Butterflies the size of angry pterodactyls have taken refuge in my stomach.  It is with great trepidation that I tell you our first horse show of the season will be tomorrow.   And, while we wouldn't turn down any good luck wishes, I remind myself that we've worked hard all winter and have come so far in a short amount of time.  Getting to a horse show - regardless of the results - is another goal on our list.  We're dressed for the part and ready to go!