Today Mom and I celebrate 6 years together.  I am really not certain why she likes to make a big deal out of the day I arrived in Virginia. But every year she shows up at the barn on August 10^th and screams, “Happy Gotcha Day Ike!”  She babbles on about how it is nice to reminisce about how far we have come with our training and what we have accomplished.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.  Sometimes I think she sounds like a Charlie Brown school teacher.   

 So let’s talk about what I think is really important – how HARD my life is compared to what my friends and brother have to do.  Over the six years that I have lived in Virginia, I think I have done more work that all the other horses at the barn combined.  What gives?  Mom says that my brother has worked hard and is now enjoying retirement.  I like mints, so I’m not sure why I don’t get to enjoy retirement.  I wonder if it is a different flavor and if it tastes better.  I ask Cigar to share his retirement, but he just ignores me or tries to bite me.  Such a selfish older brother.  And speaking of mints, I do not recommend eating them with the crinkly coating.  It really does dull the flavor.

And it seems that the longer I’m in Virginia, the harder my work gets.  How can this be something to celebrate?  I used to get to motor around the arena making big circles and straight lines.  Mom made a big deal about me maintaining straightness in my work.  Now, the crazy lady talks about bending my body around one of her legs and going sideways.  And she and Ms. C talk about making me sit on my hind end.  If I sit, how am I supposed to move?  And they are all about making me move.  Mom has a whip, Ms. C has a whip, Mom has things strapped to her feet that she uses to jab me.  Go, go, go, but sit.  I just don’t get it.  I try to get Mr. D to rescue me from the two of them, but I think he has either been bribed or is in cahoots with them.  Dad is my best hope for a savior.  I’m pretty sure he is the sanest of them all, but since I don’t see him as much as mom, it is hard to get messages to him.  Dad if you are reading this, save me from these loony toons. 

The rumor around the barn is that all my hard work has paid off and Mom got some sort of medal.  The horses overheard her telling Ms. C that it is a rider award from USDF.  Umm, how can it just be for her??  Seriously, I was with her for all the shows.  I had to carry her around the tests; I had to huff and puff in the abominable heat, freezing cold, and pouring rain. (If you didn’t think she was crazy before, knowing this should push you in that direction.)  What do I get out of all this nonsense?  Personally, I think I should receive extra green hay and a whole apple a day.  Reality is that they keep giving me timothy and other hay.  I have to share an apple with my brother.  Can you believe that?  Sharing? 

But, besides the work, I really don’t mind living in Virginia.  I get fed every day and have my own paddock so I don’t have to share with my brother.  My brother is pretty cool except when he won’t share his retirement. Mom might be a bit loony, but she means well. She makes sure I get regular pedicures so my feet look better than hers. I even get chiropractic adjustments and massages.

So cheers to another year together. 

Love, 

Ike