A half ton, spoiled rotten monster

I've created a monster. A half ton, spoiled rotten monster. My horse, the freakin' Hoover Hay Vacuum, will not eat the timothy hay. She'll eat the orchard grass, but not the timothy. Either way, she is holding out for the alfalfa hay. Great. I've got a great, big finicky horse. That hay had better be gone by the time I get home. Or else someone named Hector had better be there with a tractor trailer load of 80 pound, wire-bailed New York State alfalfa.

A little later: Got done at the dentist's earlier than expected. I treated myself to a haircut and bagel before heading home to ride. We were sluggish in the heavy snow footing, but I think we had another breakthrough in the forward department. Stop nagging with the leg and the constant whip tapping, and instead give one good whack and let her respond. Stop picking all the time. I made sure to praise the heck out of her, with lots of skritches and "good girls." We headed up the road with Margaret and Ollie. Clover was hesitant to lead the way, but a couple of whacks and some more "good girls" and we got going.

Wendy drove past us on her way to show our trainer a tape of a prospect, and Clover got balky, so as I chatted with Wendy, I got after Clover again and was rewarded with a buck for my efforts! But she was much better behaved after that. It was a little embarrassing, because I employed the whackity-whack method of stop being silly and straighten up and fly right. I gotta remember to be more patient and keep my cool even more than I have been. I still tend to fly off the handle and overreact when I get frustrated.