re, that left me with my choice of Ranger, Washoe, or Jesse. That's a no-brainer. Ranger's my boy. Washoe and Jesse are a little hard to handle when they've been cooped up and Ranger's just getting too old to care what the young whippersnappers are up to.
From inside the lodge, I could hear Ranger..."Beel! Beel! Let GunDiva come play with me!"
What? You didn't hear it?
I did. Loud and clear, so I grabbed his halter and played catch with him until he literally sighed and touched me on the shoulder with his nose so I could catch him. I'm not as good at "catching" with the rope as Beel is.
But I didn't plan on how I was going to get him out of the pen. In the summer, we just walk them through the square pen, which forms kind of an airlock, and out. But with the recent snow, that wasn't going to happen. I walked him over to the real gate and we went out that way. I really wished that I had been able to mount up from inside the pen, because I was in snow to my knees. (No comments on how two inches of snow would be up to my knees either - it was legitimately deep.)
Ranger and I made it to where I thought I could mount up with a little help from Beel...
|This seemed like a good idea.|
I pulled a muscle in my arse.
|This was a much better idea.|
|"GunDiva? Are you sure this is okay? Beel's still back there."|
Yes, Ranger, it's fine. Beel's okay by himself.
|"Beel! Stop doing the flashy-box thing!"|
|"That's it! You flashy-box thingied my one too many times!"|
Five minutes of riding and I feel so much better. Ranger, eh, who knows. But at least Beel stopped with the flashy-box thingy.