I was going to ride him, the weather was good, someone was home, the wind wasn’t howling and I had been working him regularly. The time was perfect.
I pulled him from their pen and he spooked his way through the gate. I saddled him and lead him to where I planned to ride him to start with some ground work. He took off running and bucking. Where was my horse? The one who responds willingly and happily, who doesn’t care about tarps and balls or anything else I could throw at him.
Today was apparently not the day.
We worked through it and I bounced the ball off his saddle for awhile but decided the coming weather change had blown his mind and I was not getting on just yet. A perfect time will come for real, eventually.