What a busy weekend. I’m going to have to break it up into sections, or it will get all jumbled together and won’t make any sense at all.

Friday, I left work a little early to get to the Post Office yet again. This time it was their screw up, but we finally got it sorted out, and I finally have a business address. They have figured out that I live with Cowboy, and just hand me his mail across the counter. Much different from his old PO, who required two forms of ID from his sons to even be put on the box. They also asked me to nag him about getting the house box put up correctly. We’re not supposed to be getting mail there yet, but junk mail will follow you anywhere. Lost in the Andes? Never fear, catalogs will find you.

We got in a good evening of roping Friday night. The shoer had been out Thursday though, and as soon as we got Rowdy in the arena, it was clear that something was drastically wrong. He’s not a horse that really shows pain, but he could hardly stand on one leg.

Hmm. Was fine all week roping + no accidents + shoeing = bad shoeing job. And sure enough, he’d been cut on the sole of his foot so badly that it was still bleeding a day later. Poor Rowdy, imagine cutting the sole of your foot, and then having to put several times the pressure per square inch on it. Cowboy called up the shoer, who’s a friend of ours, that night. He said, “Oh, yeah, I know I cut him. I forgot to tell you.”

Come on now. You forget to tell us that you’ve crippled Cowboy’s only good roping horse? And with a rodeo next weekend, in which your son, Chris’ former roping partner, is competing against Cowboy and Chris? How convenient.

No, I don’t like the guy, why do you ask?

Cowboy says it’s too hard to find a good shoer. There just aren’t very many in the Valley, and others that he’s tried have been worse.

We took him back on Saturday morning, and he put a pad and some packing on Rowdy, which at least lets him walk. I don’t know if he’ll be all right by next week. We also had to take the Big Lip mare back, since she threw a shoe Friday too. Yes, the day after she was shod. Quality work, that.

Cowboy just got the Big Lip mare back; she’s been at a trainer’s all winter. We expected her to be in top shape and ready to rope on when we got her back. Well, apparently that guy didn’t do much more than run a few steers on her once in a while. I’m not terribly happy with the guy either.

I got on her Friday, expecting my favorite, willing little mare. What I got was a cranky bitch who humped up with me when we were bringing in the steers, and actually bucked with me when I was warming her up. She didn’t throw me, although she could have if she’d really tried. I kicked her out of it and we went on. But I was not amused. She was bitchy all night, trying to kick the other horses and biting at me.

Cowboy had to rope on her, since Rowdy was lame. He said she felt really fresh, like she hadn’t been roped on much at all over the winter. Which is what he was paying that guy to do. She tried to buck with him too. He was wearing spurs, and she got an immediate manners lesson. We don’t put up with that shit around here, little mare. She seems to have forgotten how to stand tied without pitching a fit too.

She’ll remember where she is pretty soon.