Well, I feel a little sheepish. After my complaints about the fickleness of spring, I've had nothing but one beautiful day after another. The season of rebirth is still in Wickersham, after all.
FarmWife is not sure whether this summer promises any riding for us. I'm only 18, but she's gotten so used to thinking of me as "pasture sound" that I might as well consider myself retired. That said, I'm doing well—I seem to have worked out the kinks of my hock injury (resolved for over a year now), my hoof abscess (never drained, but fully sound), and my white line disease (responding well to treatment). If you want the stories, look back:
I am gaining weight after having done a Powerpac (double dose of Panacur dewormer for 5 days in a row) on the vet's recommendation, and so perhaps it was encysted strongyles giving me trouble this winter after all. FarmWife is expecting to get my teeth floated in the next week, and then who knows? Perhaps I can officially be considered a healthy, sound young mule again! I would like to join Miss Arrietty on the trail. I could pony her. We would make a beautiful sight!