Tiny mold colonies have taken over my tack trunk.They have their own bank, post office, even an embassy. No matter how many times I clean the stuff inside, the mold colony survives, claiming sovereign territory.

Pioneer colonies have staked out my saddle, even my everyday tack hanging on the wall. I think they are setting up perimeter defenses against the mushroom people, which are crowding the muck wagon just outside.

It’s a war out there, even for recovering tack abusers like myself.

I actually make an effort to clean and care for my tack now, because I found out what a new bridle costs. It’s been so long since I’ve bought strap goods, I had no idea they were so expensive, and the styles have changed so! Call me old-fashioned, but I like plain flat tack with stud hooks, not flashy brow bands and brass buckles.

So I’m constantly recovering territory claimed by the mold wars. Every day we repel the front lines, and at night the infiltrators sneak back. Armed with Lexol, glycerin, rags and sponges, we manage a hard-fought peace, but perhaps we can reach an accord by early fall.

The heavy rains have also washed out my favorite trails. It makes one think about such practices as raking pinestraw, turning swamps into lakes, and increasing density, both human and equine. My neighborhood could be the movie set for “A River Runs Through It.”

Horses’ feet are soft as cheese. Rain rot, scratches and pink heels are another battle front. I’ve found a great salve for that: mix a vaginal yeast cream like micondazole with equal parts of furacin in the palm of your hand, and apply it on all funky, scabby places. It works on everything, whether it’s bacterial, fungal or yeast-based. Micro-Tek spray is pretty good, too, but you have to use it every day in this kind of weather. And refrain from trimming fetlocks; that little feather of hair on the back is a rain gutter to help keep moisture off the heels.

The countdown: only one week until Labor Day. Won’t we be so glad to see the leaves turn and skies clear!