Spending the Thunder

     Yesterday's torrential rains and high winds have passed through New England and are well out to sea. The freakish warmth of nearly 60 degrees and the warm rain erased most of our snow cover. My daffodils have emerged but their  brave pointy heads are in for a big shock when the Vermont winter says it's not over yet, baby!
     Chance is nearly beside himself now that the back pasture and lawn are exposed, revealing still-green, still-tender green grass. As yesterday's frightening winds have abated, this morning I knew it was time for some overdue groundwork to exercise the piss and vinegar out of him. Get the respect back. So I hooked him up: halter, my beloved double-sided lunge attachment that allows me to lunge from both sides without relocating the line around his head, lunge line, and my bright blue lunge whip with the long tail.  I am not sure I needed the whip because his piss and vinegar moved quickly up the scale to thunder level as soon as I turned him loose into a circle, but ready access to the whip (I only wave it and once in a great while give him a gentle reminder tap on his butt) is part of earning all-important respect from a 1,200-pound beast. Luckily, he is such a well-trained guy and I know enough to stay far away from  thunderous bursts of piss and vinegar, that he could safely blow out most of his pent-up energy with some good bucks, explosive farts, squeals, and short canter/gallops at the end of the taut line.  Then he put his head down, got down to business, and trotted beautifully, as usual.
     His reward? A good graze on the green grass with me atop bareback, guiding him to the spots I imagined he'd prefer. His teeth never stopping ripping the yummy blades, his rubbery nose and whiskers searching out the next tidbits, efficient as a machine, taking only one baby step when he'd finished clipping the arc his head could define, like a minesweeper.

     Now he's having a paddock nap in the weak midday sunshine with a tummy half-full of fresh grass. The thunder is spent. All is well here in this Vermont backyard where the mountains loom above us.