In the meantime, Echo is working on shoulder healing. Being a horse, he of course does not proceed in a linear, or even understandable fashion. But there is slow progress. And I'm getting pretty good at equine massage.
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| Ridiculous creature |
We don't do anything complex -- walking, a bit of trotting, some ground poles, depending on what he is feeling up to (he never fails to tell me). I sneak in a few steps of lateral work or transitions, then quickly look away in case he catches me trying to surprise him with his nemesis, Dressage. Occasionally, he gets excited & takes a few steps of canter. I let him have it because it puts a big, stupid grin on both of our faces, but I bring him back after a few strides so he doesn't make himself too sore.
His bad foot gets tired quickly, so I keep field sessions around 30 minutes or so, although he can walk longer on a trail once Echo can go out again. He's crooked, but I don't pick at him since he's 24 & carrying old injuries. Despite that, he still has his lovely suspension when he lifts into the trot. And I still get to spend a few minutes with my favourite view in the world.
Thank you again to all who took the time to share compassion & kindness for the loss of our dear friend. I miss Richard very much. I miss bumping into him feeding his horses when I get home from work, when I would stop the truck for a chat. I miss his friendly greeting of, "Hey, girl," always accompanied by his infectious smile. Sometimes I talk to him as I walk around the farm now -- it's not the same without his quiet chuckle, though. There were still so many things I wanted to ask him & stories I wanted to hear. 
