An easier thing to do

I haven't surmounted enough precipitous slopes this summer—the thing is, FarmWife says I'm too fat for such a challenge. I confess. It's a little bit true, and all the dieting in the world doesn't seem to fix me. What I need, though I hate to admit it, is exercise, and so she's assigned me a little additional weekly work. FarmWife rides me twice a week, and that's terribly fun for us both, but now her oldest daughter rides me the other five days. I get a wonderfully manageable bit of exercise this way—thirty or forty minutes of walking, a little trotting, and a light sweat on a warm day. It's not hard, it doesn't hurt, and the oldest human girl loves the opportunity to work on her steering/posting/stopping/starting and all the little points of correct equitation. FarmWife gets to be a responsible mother, feet on the ground, available to all three of her little ones, and yet I still get ridden. It works for everyone, and so far it's working for me.

I am a WONDERFUL family mule. I'll show you pictures tomorrow, and they will prove it.

Ears,
Fen