Arriving back at the trailers today after a very pleasant hunt with a stellar field, I was told I was the luckiest man alive. And I’ll have to agree that today would be difficult to top. Arthur performed superbly, as usual, and then earned even more appreciation than usual as he allowed me to receive a massage on the way back to the trailers. (Best glute rub I’ve had all season!)
He showed some initial signs of disapproval as the lovely and talented masseuse swung off her horse onto his back. But it turned out to be only her horse that he didn’t like, and after we sent the offending horse away with another chaperone, he settled down nicely and took good care of his extra passenger as she demonstrated her massage skills.
I was reminded of a story told to me a few years ago by a friend who had been at the Horse Park one weekend when there was an interesting combination of events. One event was a high-level dressage show, with a huge crowd of stereotypical dressage queens. One night, one of the pampered megabuck dressage horses escaped from his stall. Nothing to worry about, there was also a rodeo in town, and the fugitive horse was soon captured and back in his stall.
The next morning, one of the rodeo cowboys swaggered up to a couple of the DQs and said “Me’n my buddies done roped one of y’all’s massage horses last night. We knowed it was a massage horse because it had them pompoms in its mane.” The poor DQs were so speechless that they didn’t even thank the cowboy for his effort.
I have never made Arthur suffer the indignity of a braided mane. But now I can truly say, braids or not, that I have a genuine massage horse.