Harvey enjoys the warm weather.
I have to pick his feet more diligently (he is getting thrushy, maybe part of the Cushings) and Harv hates it. He does not seem unsteady enough that he could not pick up a foot, but he's pretty theatrical, acting like he's going to go down after about 15 seconds. And now, when he sees me coming with the hoof spray, we have a "routine."
Harv is often in the paddock picking at hay. When he sees what I'm carrying--the hoof stuff--he starts to make his way from the paddock to the pasture, his expression saying "Oh, wish you'd called first -- I was just leaving." I follow him, trying to match his non-chalant demeanor. I increase my pace, he increases his.
I jog, he picks up a trot.
Eventually in the small pasture, he has to turn, and I move to cut him off. This horse who can't stand up on three feet does a pretty good rollback and trot-canters away, just enough to stay out of reach.
The John Lyons approach to the hard-to-catch horse is to keep them moving till their clever game becomes tiresome. Because the game is sort of a fun way of interacting with my clownish boy, and because it gets him exercise, this is what I do -- keep following him. It does not take long for Harv to see that I'm more motivated than he is. Sometimes, when he lets me catch up to him, I can hear him sigh heavily.
Oh how I love the "game" you describe. I have been playing it with my abscessed mare. Same thing. She sees the foot soak apparatus from 400,000 feet away and then decides today is a great day for a fun run. We do the same John Lyons trick, and it always works in the end. But still, I'm wearing clunky farm boots, not sprinters. Geez. ;P
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