Bombay was my victim. He had actually volunteered to be ridden yesterday, and I almost put the halter on him, but then my neighbor came out of his house and Bombay acted like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. I no longer existed. Rock, on the other hand, was having eye contact with me and totally ignoring the neighbor, so I chose him instead. These horses have to connect with me if they expect to be ridden on the trails.
I set up the construction cones, but Bombay disagreed on where they should be placed.
Bombay got spanked because he was toying with me. He'd stand square right where I put him in a low spot, I'd set down the stool, tie the lead rope to his saddle horn, climb up, put my foot in the stirrup, and he'd take one giant step back. Then I'd have to get down, move the stool, and try again. Once I realized he was doing it on purpose to jerk me around, I backed him around the arena for a couple of minutes until he was huffing and puffing. I thought he would welcome standing still at the mounting stool, but he still took a step back, so I smacked him hard on the rump. His whole body shook and his head shot up into the air. He was so tense that I had to make nice-nice once he was standing still for me. Poor guy. I forgot how sensitive he is. He was probably thinking, "But you usually laugh when I clown around like this."
That reminds me... I was looking at a satellite view of my old neighborhood, and I saw that someone bought this house on a big acreage two doors down from me and turned it into a motocross track. I wanted to buy that property years ago because it would have been perfect for horses. I guess I moved away just in time. Now the dragster mechanic and the motocross people can compete with each other on how much noise they can make, and I don't have to hear it, because I don't live there anymore. Ironically, our house has gone up $130,000 in value since we moved out. You'd think it would drop in value based on the noise level and the junkyard next door.
I had to ride in Bombay's winter saddle pad, even though it was hot, because his summer pad needs cleaning. The flanks are hard and rough from dried sweat and hair. I almost didn't catch that. It would have been rubbing on him and probably bothering him. His saddle has seen better days too. I'll have to set aside some time for tack maintenance.