I'm quite certain that at this moment in time, somewhere in the world, there is bacon on the hoof in flight. Why do I say this? My Father has a Facebook account. This is the man who didn't own a computer until a few months ago.
That leaves me as the final hold out in our family. I obstinately refuse to join Facebook. I ask you, gentle readers, am I being stubborn, or do these social networking things allow us to put too much of ourselves out there for all to see?
I took today off work, because I could. The weather was clear, albeit it a bit cool. Smokey and Bailey were paid a visit from the farrier to have their hooves trimmed and shoes replaced. Smokey's soles are a bit soft, which is common for him this time of year, so we opted to keep the pads on until next time. Neither of them had much hoof growth since last visit. This is not unexpected, as much of their nourishment through the winter months goes toward coat growth and staying warm.
With the warm days and cold nights, we remove horse blankets in the morning, and replace them at night. Most of the horses are non-plussed by this event. Note that I say most. With Dozer, our 8 year old Paint gelding, blanketing is an event I refer to as "Blanket Rodeo". As you approach with the blanket, he tenses up and gets this wild look in his eyes. On about half the occasions, the young punk will wait until you are within arms reach, and then bolt, bucking and running across his paddock. Thus one has to march off after him. He got past me twice tonight before I was able to use my best cutting moves to force him into a corner, and applied said blanket. I know I should get a halter and lead rope for this, but it just seems ludicrous for it to be such an ordeal.
On a final note, for Laura over at Fetch My Flying Monkeys, I snapped a couple photos that I know she will appreciate.