Guilt

Dad gave up trying to find a gap between the showers in which to ride yesterday and so we all had the day off. Some on the yard were sufficiently organised or brave to go in the school, so Dad felt guilty. I didn't. Cobs don't really do guilt. I find it much healthier that way.

Today, we came in about four amidst towering dark blue rain clouds. For once Netherwood seemed to be in a dry patch and so Dad quickly tacked me up and took me into the school.

We schooled for forty minutes or so around the fences whilst Rosa and then Bonnie had lessons at the other end of the arena. We were joined by William and Dad found me more distracted by the company than usual - although perhaps I just wanted my tea. I guess we will be working on that in the future.

We practised in walk and trot with leg yield, shoulder in/fore and halt-walk-trot transitions and some rein-back. I softened quite well and my sitting trot was consistent and relaxed. We didn't canter today, given the volume of traffic around and about and my variable steering - probably for the best. Dad was pleased with the session - particularly since he thought the rain would intervene.

When we came in Dad took me into the wash box for a hose down. A vet visiting another horse passed and greeted Dad. Looking around the yard in which Dad was the only man, he joked "You're a rare breed here".

Dad smiled, nodded and said, "Yes, rare and endangered."

Fortunately, cobs don't really understand cynicism.

After minties it was time for tea. I knew I was right not to feel guilty yesterday. Usually being right is a cob thing too.