Well, the Kipper has landed. They were supposed to be here at 9:45, but arrived a bit after nine, causing a big panic because I couldn’t get out to the barn first to get everything prepared. I had to practically mug some small child for a bale of shavings, throw them into a stall, and put him in without a chance to disinfect everything – hopefully that stall wasn’t open because the previous occupant died of some terribly contagious plague. :( He walked in calmly, and I left him making suave and debonaire conversation with the mare across the aisle. He begged for one of Phil’s herbal throat tablets, and he makes extremely silly faces when you scratch his neck.
lol…I feel like I’m twelve again, and in love with my horse. To hell with boys, I just wanted horses. The money thing is quite scary, though. We just got him and we’re already bleeding cash (and we didn’t have much to spare BEFORE we got him!). I need a better job pronto – or a lot of freelance work.
You always have to sacrifice for dreams.