[MistyMorning]

MistyMorning
#5796

Name: The Thunder Rolls On, "Thunder"
Age: 4 Years
Breed: Mustang
Color: Grullo Tobiano
Gender: Gelding
Markings: Bald Face, 1 sock
Height: 14.2 HHs
Vice/Fear/Special: He doesn't like people touching his face.
Notes:

[MistyMorning]

Shoutouts;;

captain awesome- Thank you for giving me both an idea for Thunder's showname and his theme song c:

[MistyMorning]

Log;;

Day One
✔ I manage to get Thunder out of the trailer.
✔ Thunder responds to a snack
✘ He doesn't like being touched on the face.

[MistyMorning]

d a y..o n e

I am resting in the shade of a large tree, waiting for my Mustang Makeover mustang to arrive- the truck should come any minute. Although I have only seen photos of my mustang, I have a name in mind- The Thunder Rolls On, or “Thunder.” Suddenly, I see a truck bearing the Mustang Makeover logo on it come to a stop in front of the stable. I pull on my boots and set off at a brisk walk toward the truck and trailer.
The man hops out of the truck’s cab and introduces himself as Derrick. “You’re Misty Johnson, right?”
I nod. “Yes, I am.”
Derrick leads me to the back and unlatches the door. “Good luck, Misty. I’ll stop by and check on you and your mustang in several days.”
He walks back to the cab and I peer in the trailer. Catching my breath, I let it go in a small gasp of excitement. The mustang- Thunder- is even more beautiful in real life!
Now, there’s the difficult task of getting Thunder out of the trailer. I speak to him softly as I come in, making my voice as calming and gentle as I can. He backs away, nervous eyes looking me over.
“It’s okay, Thunder.” He takes a step toward me, cautious. “That’s right, good.” I try to lure him out of the trailer, but he does not budge, snorting and backing up.
Taking a handful of grass, I offer it to him. He shies away, and I reach out, planning to touch his nose, trying to calm him, but that was a mistake. He backs away from me, obviously scared. I make a mental note- Thunder doesn’t like being touched on the face.
“I won’t hurt you, boy. That’s right.” I say softly. An idea pops into my head and I put a handful of grass on the ramp, about halfway down. “Here, boy, want a snack? Come get it!”
He steps forward and eats the grass, keeping an eye on me. “Good!” I say. I put more grass further down the ramp. In this way, I manage to get Thunder out of the trailer. I even got to touch his neck for a second or two. It looks like Thunder is calming down and getting to trust me- a bit.

Log

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-

[MistyMorning]

Reserved-