Tired

But the Monkey is brushed, clean (ha! Like that will last the night) and he will trot in hand.

At the barn from one this afternoon to right at five. I accomplished these things:

Ran the shedder blade (a type of brush that is designed to remove the shedding hair without clogging the brush) over him about a gazillion times.

Ran the bristle brush over him about a thousand times, five hundred cross-growth (to bring out as much dirt as possible) and five hundred with the growth.

Unbraided his mane and tail (which I had spent an hour and a half yesterday braiding before I knew about this) and treated them with detangler/conditioner. Brushed them just enough to make them look good.

Trimmed his full-jaw beard with the manual clippers I have. Trimmed his nose and chin whiskers with C's electric clippers. That was an adventure.

Helped C trim her horse. Helped C clean up her horse's belly because he was getting a lot of crusties around his sheath and he doesn't like it when you touch his no no spot. Helped J trim his horse after class.

Treated Monkey's feet with hoof-heal to moisturize them tonight, tomorrow it's hoof-shine.

And the big one... Taught Monkey to trot on the lead. He was really confused about that part. I did a lot of jogging today, so I think I got my cardio. But, by the end of class he would trot without me having to have the short whip that I was using to teach him what I wanted in my hand, so I call it a victory. Now they won't have to completely freak him out when it's time to trot by running up behind him.

My arms are tired, from all the brushing. My legs are tired, from all the jogging. My back is sore from bending over to do legs.

I still have to run a load of laundry and take a shower, and get my gear together for tomorrow. Horses and handlers have to be ready by eight thirty in the morning.

It'll be really satisfying if we win, but it would make me feel less like it's all just a bit futile if we actually got a prize for winning.

Stingy bastards.