I went to the local tack shop today to pick up a couple more bales of shavings. The owner was in and we had a chat. She had the saddle fitter visiting yesterday (missed her AGAIN! Back in March, so not long to wait.) and took a thumping fall off her Welsh D, to which she casually added that Merlin chucked her off into a cement mixer once and he'd had her in the ditch often enough. Now, she's one of the better riders in the county at sticking on horses that want to get you off them, so if she was having problems hacking him out I'm not entirely certain I'm ever going to be able to do it.
On the plus side, he's a dope on a rope if I'm leading him (apart from when we meet a strange gelding) and does seem to love being out and about, so if I do ever get a ploddy native or cob to amble around the moors on, it's possible I'll be able to ride and lead and he can expand his world a bit that way. I did clean his bridle yesterday, so that's a step closer to getting back on him ;o)
Weight today smack on the marker between the 498kg and 490kg bands. He's got a coat like a yak, is plastered in mud like a swamp donkey and seems very content with his life at the moment.
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