ZB: The Wild West Saga

The last month I owned Courage, I went on a western kick and bought a bridle and a saddle. The saddle of course fit ZB somewhat like a banana boat on the top of a hill.

pictured: rocking chair

So obviously that was never going to work.

HOWEVER.

The bridle. Omg. I was super duper in love with it and I'd LITERALLY JUST BOUGHT IT and the advantage to living where I do is that custom western stuff is super accessible. 

I took this bridle to a shop that's like a mile from my house:

And one highly custom throat latch later, I had this:

well and upgraded slobbers straps #hosgonnaho

Of course, given the saddle situation, the western bridle was mostly relegated to bareback days. 

i said mostly

BUT

OMG

The other day, I walked into the tack room and was greeted by this glorious sight:

UNKNOWN. TACK.

I tracked down the owner, got permission to play with the saddle, and. Well. 

me: the light is perfect
me: ZB strike a pose
ZB: R WANT LOOK OVER THERE

See, once you have the set up all ready, it's time to get on and ride. 

boom. western zb.

Here's a wee secret about me: I am completely terrible at riding western. 

It's never been a part of my daily life. I super admire those people who just effortlessly sit there and flow with the horse and look like they were born in a stock saddle, but those people are so not me. I'm an obsessive detail person who is like HOW DO I WESTERN

The best feedback I've gotten was this: 

"Just. Stop. Doing. That."

STOP DOING WHAT?

"Whatever the hell that is." 

Curious? 

NOW ITS ON VIDEO.

I think it's best described as some sort of hunter perch with my hands singing a discordant duet of FALLING FREE FALLING. Who knows. Props to ZB for being a major sport and just letting me do whatever the hell that is.

Maybe I'll figure it out. Maybe I won't.

The important takeaways are these:

1) ZB is stinking cute as a western pony.

2) We look super legit as long as I don't get on

3) CHECK OUT WHO IS BOSS AT DITCHES

uh possibly we have our own way of doing them