This weekend in New Jersey it was over 70 degrees on Sunday, so while I hadn't planned to clip my horse that day, it seemed like the only logical thing to do. What's that saying? Sun's out, clippers out?
Tucker apparently found the day exhausting.
|Ohhhhh. Em. Gee.|
|So. Freakin'. Tired.|
|HOLY CRAP I didn't know the camera was out|
|HOLD ON I'LL POSE! There. How's that?|
Yeah, perfect. You look like a llama bred to a mule.
|Yes but I am YOUR llama-mule|
P.S. - If you are about to comment about how you don't believe in clipping or you never clip your horse, congratulations. And, respectfully, save it. Most nights I finish my rides between 8:30-9 pm. Waiting around for a horse to dry at that hour in those temps is both unpleasant for me and unhealthy for him. So he's clipped and blanketed and we're both very happy about it, thankyouverymuch.
P.P.S. - My heartfelt congratulations to everyone on surviving the first holiday of the gauntlet. (I, like Tucker, do not like to be spooked, and spent this one at the office/at home.) Just three more to go. All we have to do now is spend all day overcooking a turkey, try to keep our cats from pulling down a tree and destroying the living room, practice our fake smiles for opening presents, and do something with yule tide whatever the hell that is. We can do this.