This evening being clear, cool, and dry, I decided that Smokey needed some exercise, so off to the arena we went.
Well, 'ol boy is apparently feeling his oats. Each time I kicked him up into a lope, he wanted to run. Since no one else was in the arena, I did what any cowboy would do...I indulged him, and round and round we sailed, the horse choosing the speed, while I chose when to turn. It was one of those times when everything between horse and rider just clicks. My mind cleared of everything, enjoying a catharsis that I can't quite explain. A far cry from four years ago, when I was as green as a rider could get, and sometimes wondering if perhaps I had picked the wrong hobby.
I don't know how long we raced around, but I finally decided to bring him down to a walk, as I don't want him to overexert himself, nor do I want to spend an hour trying to dry out a sweaty horse.
On another note, I've been accused of being a bit indulgent with regards to our dogs. I can't imagine why.