They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me assure you that using practically the same title for this blog entry as the previous one is in no way an attempt on my part to "toot my own horn", so to speak. Nor did I succumb to laziness in an endeavor to think of a new and utterly inspiring eye catching title. It is, in fact, just the way it is right now at (if I may indulge) everyone's barn on the planet! Mud season has arrived. Plain and simple.
Ok perhaps I am exaggerating a bit. I'm sure there are barns that are not experiencing the sudden inundation of mud like we are here in New England...Hawaii comes to mind...not much else. Book me and my horse a one way ticket please!
Mud season is yet another test of the devotion (obsession?) of the horse owner to her trusty steed. Who really likes wallowing in calf deep mud anyway? (ok my son when he was 2 1/2 but that's an entirely different story). And, apparently, my horse.
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The breaded pork chop, that's what her nickname is during mud season. She is quite efficient at coating herself on both sides, quite evenly I might add. It takes some skill to do this but she's mastered the science of mud application. She knows exactly where the gooiest, mushiest part of he paddock is and dives right in alternating sides as if she were an expert chef flipping her main course until it was perfectly done on both sides. After spending 2 hours de-mudding her you'd think she'd have the decency to wait until I walked back to the barn to plunge into the gook. But no, she stares straight into my eyes and smiles (I swear) as if to say, "Watch me mom. Look what I can do!!".
And what can I do but smile back and enjoy how much she clearly loves swimming in her mud bath. Winston Churchill summed it up best when he said, "The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man". So I head home to unearth mud balls from my hair and I'll return the next day to play this game again.
