The Howie Chronicles

Time does goes faster the older you get. Here it is 2 or 2 1/2 years that I have had Howie, and I don't have a decent picture of him. That's pretty sad. I remember the gangly youngster I bought, and now I see a filled out almost mature horse. I was looking for a pretty horse to look at in the field and ride around in the woods, I got much more. Howie is pretty, but he is not content to just walk around the woods. He lives to jump. He tolerates the flatwork, barely, but when we line up behind another horse to take our turn to jump a line, he becomes a professional. There is no messing around, no fussing, no playing. He is all work now. Fun work if that makes sense. How lucky could I get? We still don't canter worth a tinker's darn, but point him down a line, and it is point and click. Perhaps a little drift, but we are going. And it is a partnership, just like I wanted more than anything. He talks to me about it. Even if it is a pole on the ground I can hear him say, we're 4 strides away-ok, and it works out perfect. I love my horse!