Drunk Blessi

Last year, Blessi had his hocks injected. As I was leaving the house to go to the stable, I noticed that I was wearing my sneakers, not the safest barn attire. But did I go change? No. All I needed to do was lead Blessi from the paddock to the barn and back. After all, Blessi is very careful about my space and in 12 years he has stepped on my foot less than 5 times--usually because I put my foot right
where his foot is about to land.

The 15 minutes of leg scrubbing and 10 minutes of finding the injectable spaces between the hock bones went well--Blessi was an angel. After it was all over, I intended to take a folding chair to Blessi's run out shed to sit in the doorway and read until Blessi recovered from the anesthesia. So off we go. I am carrying a folding chair and my cell phone in one hand and leading a somewhat drunk, stumbling Blessi in the other. 

All is well until we get to the run out shed. Between managing cell phone, chair, door, and stepping over the riser, I stumbled. Blessi was right behind me and stumbled too. He tried not to step on me but clipped the side of my foot. Luckily I have bruising between my big and little toe but no damage. And the toes only hurt when I am wearing shoes. Limping around the stable in my riding boots these days is a constant reminder to always wear my boots to the barn