They are Not Muck Boots!

Group lesson Monday with Erin Patterson trying to control our regular three riders and a person new to our rowdy group. Names omitted to protect the guilty.

We were doing flying changes and every rider needed the entire arena. The other three riders hid in the corners. The corners are the safe space, except when Fancy starts her straight line flying changes . Pity the new rider, but at least she wasn’t in the corner where Fancy wants to canter into it at full throttle. The regular group riders are used to the fear of being slammed.

When the lesson was over, Fancy and I went over to the corner where I keep my shoes. I store my cowboy boots at the stable and change into them in the arena corner where we enter the arena. It usually works out well for me.

My shoes were waiting for me, and I walked over to make the transition. Good Lordy!

Fancy and I hid in this very corner when the other riders were taking their turns in the arena. I knew Fancy had expelled manure in the corner, but I didn’t realize the horror of what happened.

One of my shoes was filled with manure. FILLED WITH MANURE! Can you imagine your shoe being chock full of manure? No I can’t either. I’ve never seen a shoe brimming with manure and it was MINE!

I moaned, picked up my shoe and headed towards the other riders gathered around Erin getting instructions. They all looked over when I held the manure shoe up and dumped the manure on the ground. One of them said, “That’s why they make muck boots, Susan.” I retorted, “These are not Muck Boots! They are SHOES.” My shoes are now muck shoes. I am forever shamed!

It turns out, they all had seen the manure shoe and tried to tell me when I was in the midst of doing my flying lead change attempts with Fancy. I didn’t hear nary a word. When you and your horse are doing the arena exercise at a fast canter, nothing exists except the instructor’s voice and your ride.

Good Lordy! I shuddered and put my foot in the shoe. Luckily, the manure was not RUNNY! I did not feel a manure wet cushion when I put my shoe on.

A while after the lesson ended, I yelled at my long time groups lesson riders, “Why didn’t anyone take a picture of my manure shoe?” A rowdy rider replied, “We can take the picture now. Just put the manure back in it!”

I growled. Today was a wine night.