It’s T-minus one week ‘til Fender’s off to Devon, and I’ve got mixed feelings. He was a superstar, really cooking, until we tacked hind shoes on him about a week ago, and now he’s fairly convinced his hind legs are falling off. The strength and coordination is slowly building back up (honestly, how is 17.1 hands of Oldenburg felled by two thin strips of aluminum?), but the last piece of the puzzle, the real, no-holds-barred connection from hind legs to bridle that I’ve been lacking all season and was FINALLY starting to feel is still nowhere in sight. Stupid shoes.