I'm having a hard time procuring renegades for BG's back feet by Uwharrie next weekend. I ordered size 00s, but they were too small. However, my 0s are too big. Awkward. I e-mailed the company some pictures and hope to get this resolved soon as possible. It is THIS kind of thing that fills me with anxiety.
Actually, I'm mostly here to offer you a cool picture. BG's best obstacle at the Benefit was a canter/bank. We were instructed to take off at a canter from a halt and follow the trail up a hill. Midway up the hill was a washed out "stair step," like an eventing bank, about a foot high. We were to jump this and continue down the trail without fuss.
I was all, "This is exactly the kind of thing I do on trails at home!" And I went all hunter/jumper on them.
Bless my soul. I've had a time. So guess what time it is? Rant time. In which Jackie bursts forth with uncharacteristic frustration. And gifs.
I started e-mailing renegade on Thursday. Right after I realized my boots weren't quite right. I sent pictures from all angles, etc. The company said it was probably okay, but I needed to ride in them. Friday, I actually got to try them on my horse. I lunged her. She kept brushing, dragging her toes, and eventually interfered so badly her boot came flying off.
I e-mailed renegade again. They said it sounded like the boots were too narrow. I e-mailed back saying, "Okay. I really need boots by Wednesday. Can you rush my a pair of 0s if I send you guys a tracking number ASAP?"
And they never. E-mailed. Back.
Okay. Well, I guess I need shoes. As much as I don't want to shoe her again, you gotta do what you gotta do. So I called my farrier. Who didn't answer. And eventually called me back today. I asked if he would be around any time this week to put shoes on my horse.
No. He's in south Georgia shoeing 39 horses and he won't be back until Friday.
So I called Regina, who is secretary for Uwharrie. She gave me a number of the farrier on call for the ride. I called. Farrier was all, "Lolnope. Out of town. Sorries."
So I called Regina again, who called Von, who called a guy named Scott. Who is a farrier. On the edge of despair, I dialed Scott's number and hoped fourth time was the charm.
Chink! Scott said he would put on two back shoes on Friday around 3:00. Either that, or I could do pour in pads in the back. Which is an interesting option, though I'm unsure if they would survive three days in the rocky hell known as Uwharrie National Forest.
Back feet covered. But my anxiety will not be lifted until those shoes/pads/whatever are on her back feet.
In the meantime, I'm going to keep e-mailing renegade until they answer and let me exchange my boots. Alas. Such awesome boots. So difficult to get.
Oh man! I feel your pain. I have been following your "booting venture" with interest as I am not sure whether I will boot or shoe when I start really conditioning w/my horses. Right now I am leaning towards shoeing...but we'll see.
BTW if you are in desperate need of a farrier, my friend's husband is a really good farrier out of Ramseur/Randleman NC (not too far from Uwharrie)...if you want I can PM you his number. Just in case:)
Please do! I could use a backup-backup-backup farrier. In case Scott fails me.
I really like my boots. My horse moves in them better than she ever did with shoes. It's just acquiring and fitting them that's the pain! But once they fit, I never have to worry about shoes again. Which is sort of freeing. Baby Girl's feet have showed notable improvement after a couple months of barefoot trims. Her frogs have grown and make contact with the ground, her heels have filled out, no more white line/thrush. It really seems better for her and for our situation (need protection every two weeks for rides and that's it), which is why I'm fighting for barefoot so stubbornly. Her soles still suck. But maybe we'll get there.
I noticed a few days ago she was reluctant to pick up her back feet. I shrugged it off, putting it up to a cranky sort of day. She wouldn't hold her foot up for me today without ears back and trying to pull it away. Her range of motion was compromised. Her butt muscles were slightly hard.
I lunged her, and she was dragging her back toes.
I told her to kiss her pasture goodbye, because she isn't seeing it again until next winter. (Not without a grazing muzzle and only for a couple hours at most.) Say hello to daily exercise and (dun dun dun dun dahhhh) the pony pen.
The foundered pony club, BG! Where there is a low-quality round bale of "busy hay" and grass eaten down so low you have to sift every bite for dirt.