My expert blog 7473

The gelding before me, a dewy-eyed sorrel with a crescent of white on his temple, is taking a breath like a bellows. Next to him, a teen called Eli is striving to be still. It is not going well. His feet touch a fast rhythm, his hands turn completion of a lead rope, his eyes skitter across the sector. I ask Eli what his breath is doing. He shrugs. The equine snorts and turns an ear towards him. We count together, four in, four out, and I show him exactly how to broaden his