After our lesson, I rode Jelly down to Hansen Dam. We followed some Mexican cowboys down the wash, underneath the 210 and meandered down through the willow towards the creek. It's a tiny creek, about 12 feet wide and only a couple of feet deep, but Jelly thought it was the devil incarnate and would NOT cross it. I tried everything, on him, off him, coaxing with grass and watercress, using a leafy willow branch to smack him on the bum, I cooed, I clicked, I chatted, nothing worked. And finally I gave up, jumped off and waded (in my good boots) into the middle of the water where I stood staring at him, under a shady tree. He stared back, sighed, dropped his head, and then leapt in, right on top of me, landing right on my little toe of my right foot. I was so delighted that I didn't really hear the crunch of the bones breaking. Only now I'm hobbling about a bit.
Here he is in the stream. As you can imagine, he didn't want to get out. Heraclitus would have something to say about this, I'm sure.