Fred is now in Fresno. He is being turned out in grass pasture for three to six months to give his blasted suspensory ligament some time to heal. It's not a tear. It's actually only a sprain but it's not healing as fast as we'd like so I'm thinking that Someone Out There is saying, let the horse have a rest, let the horse be a horse and eat grass and get muddy and hang out with other horses. Apparently when he was turned out he galloped around with the other two horses, doing one full lap of the five acre field, head high, tail streaming behind him, and then kept on galloping, with his head turned towards the gate, and didn't realize that his two friends, who are a good deal older, had stopped, out of breath, and he barrelled right into them. Oops.
I know that Spring is making an appearance here and there -- in the yellow mimosa, the acid green of the new grass, the refreshed group of small birds who congregate on my bird feeder.
No comments:
Post a Comment