The perfect weekend, continued.

I forgot the most important part of Saturday's ride: Peanut showed no signs of locking or weakness in the rear!  He was even in his hinds and had no issues at all on hills.  I don't know if his new hilly field is the cause of his properly functioning hind leg, but it was wonderful to see (feel)!

Oh, and he got a spiffy new halter too.  He looks smashing in it.  The fact that another horse broke his halter on Friday made me realize that he needed another one.  Luckily, only the break-away snapped, so I was able to replace it as Joan said she'd pay for it.  I just looked at her, held up the repaired halter, and said, "why?  Good as new."

So, Sunday.

Rick was feeling better so we headed to see the boys.  We rode the short loop in Fair Hill, and it went very well.

At one point, Peanut and I were out in front, gaiting through the woods, and Peanut kept looking off to the left.  As I slowed at the top of a very slight downhill I bothered to look to the left and there was a herd of deer, taking off through the trees parallel to us (but probably 50 yards away).  Peanut didn't startle or spook, which is unusual.  He'll usually give a little startle when he first flushes some deer, but he just looked as we gaited.  We stopped to watch the last of the white tails disappear, and Peanut was a cool cucumber the whole time.

Eventually, Gene tired of the immense golden roadblock so we pulled over and he took the lead.  The old man was in full-out trail mode and had no time for the Slowest Horse in the World.

Before we got Gene, Rick was told that he HAD to get a gaited horse, a TWH, since any other horse had no chance of keeping up with Peanut!  HAH!

All-in-all it was good.  No pain when I ran my nails down his back afterwards, either.

As an aside, I'm reading a book called "A Good Horse Has No Color" about the author's search for horses in Iceland.  There are some intersting bits on the history of gaited horses and Icelandic horses in particular - briefly talking about the rise of the trotting horse and the regional resurrection of gaited horses.  Today I read a passage that reminded me of something that was once said to me about Peanut: that I'd grow bored of him.  I've had him for almost 5.5 years now, and I have yet to be.  I think I want security and companionship more than adventure - and thus another reason why Peanut is the perfect horse for me.  :)