"Colt" in the golden evening.
This day was relatively quiet considering yesterday's fiasco, and I wanted to let my colt take it easy. It should be mentioned that I did consider the name "Rio" for him, after his water-loving ways, but decided to nix it. So after a quiet morning and then some more attention and rope practice in the afternoon, I was pleased to find that the mustang is doing well with having the rope draped over his back, and even slid along his spine. He didn't even flinch when I flicked it gently at his legs, careful not to smack or surprise him. He really seems to have settled in, even after the issues yesterday. He's grown less excitable, but seems interested in the hay pasture when he's not receiving direct attention.
I took a break for dinner and evening chores, as Annika had to head home, and I headed inside. Once I returned outside, I was greeted with a bizarre atmosphere. Clouds had moved in, despite the lack of rain for the last few weeks, and were causing the setting sun to cast a odd golden tint on the atmosphere. Everything looked gilded, as though it was touched by Midas. It seemed breathless- the whole world did. And then the thunder rolled and cracked, vibrating through the air. And Colt screamed, rearing up, his blue tint framed against the golden sky. His brilliant blue eyes were glinting with fear, as he lashed out. He had not been this violent in his entire time here, and it left me cold, despite the growing tension in the air from the brewing storm.
That's when it hit me. Backfiring cars. Loud braying. Thunder. Everything was centered around noise. Loud noises. He liked the murmurng of a voice, the whisper of a rope, the babble of a brook. But the loud noises terrified him. That was our sticking point. I slunk out, low to the ground, despite the storm, and crept inside the shed, watching him dash around, before softly whistling. And to my surprise, he came. He wouldn't let me get close throughout the duration of the storm, as the wind howled and the rain beat down, but he remained in the shed with me. I think we've found our niche, now. It was just a matter of taking things at his own pace.
This day was relatively quiet considering yesterday's fiasco, and I wanted to let my colt take it easy. It should be mentioned that I did consider the name "Rio" for him, after his water-loving ways, but decided to nix it. So after a quiet morning and then some more attention and rope practice in the afternoon, I was pleased to find that the mustang is doing well with having the rope draped over his back, and even slid along his spine. He didn't even flinch when I flicked it gently at his legs, careful not to smack or surprise him. He really seems to have settled in, even after the issues yesterday. He's grown less excitable, but seems interested in the hay pasture when he's not receiving direct attention.
I took a break for dinner and evening chores, as Annika had to head home, and I headed inside. Once I returned outside, I was greeted with a bizarre atmosphere. Clouds had moved in, despite the lack of rain for the last few weeks, and were causing the setting sun to cast a odd golden tint on the atmosphere. Everything looked gilded, as though it was touched by Midas. It seemed breathless- the whole world did. And then the thunder rolled and cracked, vibrating through the air. And Colt screamed, rearing up, his blue tint framed against the golden sky. His brilliant blue eyes were glinting with fear, as he lashed out. He had not been this violent in his entire time here, and it left me cold, despite the growing tension in the air from the brewing storm.
That's when it hit me. Backfiring cars. Loud braying. Thunder. Everything was centered around noise. Loud noises. He liked the murmurng of a voice, the whisper of a rope, the babble of a brook. But the loud noises terrified him. That was our sticking point. I slunk out, low to the ground, despite the storm, and crept inside the shed, watching him dash around, before softly whistling. And to my surprise, he came. He wouldn't let me get close throughout the duration of the storm, as the wind howled and the rain beat down, but he remained in the shed with me. I think we've found our niche, now. It was just a matter of taking things at his own pace.
