There’s one in every crowd, right? We’ve all known parents
who loved to brag on their kids. And how many horse owners are particularly
proud of their own horses?
OK, count me in.
I love arriving at the stables and being greeted with a good
report about our horse. She’s a sweet Morgan mare, who is trusty enough to pack
kids and adults around for riding lessons. She’s done some hippotherapy too.
She’s that sweet. (Morgans rock. But I
digress.)
Sure, she can raise a
ruckus, when she feels like it.
This past weekend, she actually spooked a bit. (It lasted
about 5 seconds, while she scooted maybe 3 feet.) She’s a horse, after all, and
it’s almost springtime. Plus, someone tossed up the big garage-like barn door
without warning.
But this horse is well-trained and sort of senior and
generally doesn’t seem to want to expend the effort it takes to kick up her
heels much. (At this season of her life, she is willing to give me some good go,
but I definitely have to ask for it.)
She was a hero the
other day.
A barn staffer actually used the word “hero.” How funny is
that?
This gentle mare is kind of bossy in the herd. We’ve never
seen her rear or kick or bite. She doesn’t have to. She has mastered “the look.”
You know. It’s the same look your toughest teacher had down. All she had to do
with turn her head with that face on, and you knew she meant business.
That’s it exactly.
In this horse’s herd, there’s a chestnut mare who likes to
play hard-to-catch at coming-in time. Maybe she forgets her filled feed bucket
and a pile of hay await her in the stall. Perhaps she just loves staying
outside. For whatever reason, she’s made this a game.
The other day, the
barn staff had had enough of that.
The chestnut mare bolted and darted and wove her way around
the pasture, while these folks tried to catch her. She was having none of it.
So one of these wranglers walked back into the barn and
retrieved my horse from her stall. They led her out into the pasture again. They tossed some loose hay on the ground, and she began to munch it. Almost
immediately, the errant one came alongside her turnout pal. The humans led my
mare towards the gate, and the other followed.
Soon, these folks were able to
slip a rope over her neck and hold her for haltering.
That’s all it took.
Because sometimes it’s more fun to follow a friend home at
the end of the day than to prolong the inevitable by breaking curfew. Something
like that.
In any case, I was pleased with the good report about my own
horse. She’s a keeper.
Images:
LAN photo. All rights
reserved.
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