This little mare represents the viola, close cousin to the violin.
Arrows wrote:
I just had to enter for this amazing horse and lovely instrument <3
Username: Arrows
Show Name: Dancing On Strings
Barn Name: Ballare ["dance" in Italian]
Age: Five
Gender: Mare
Breed: Sarcidano Horse
Height: 12.3hh
Colour: Bay
Markings: Star, snip and half-pastern.
Genetics: E/E and A/a.
Personality: Despite her small size, Ballare has a personality larger than life. She loves a good party and is quite the wild thang. This mare has a carefree love of life and and has no regard for caution. Ballare has a certain fire to her eyes, and despite her haphazard ways, is actually quite bright and clever. She is simply a colorful little being!
History: [It is a story told by Ballare, all the way leading up to her adoption)
I was born in a small, but lovely, town in Italy. Everything was quiet there - always a tad too quiet for my liking. Life was not very exciting the first two years of my life. My farm was the biggest of the town. There were just eight pastures with four to six horses each, usually - four pastures for mares, four pastures for stallions and geldings. I was first in the "weanling" pasture with my mother and some other pairs. When I slowly became less attached to my mother, I moved to the "yearling" pasture. As of two I was in the broad "young" pasture. The farm had around thirty horses, none of which were very exciting. It was a calm world. By the time I was three, everything changed.
- - -
I was auctioned off in an attempt to help my owner make some more money, as crops were terrible that year. Being a purebred and well-built Sarcidano Horse, he was sure I would sell well. I was plucked from my serene life and shoved right into a one of chaos. The auction was loud, sweaty, and crazy. The auctioneer was talking so fast and kept slamming down his wooden hammer. It was a peculiar change from my typical days - oddly, though, I liked it. By the time I was pulled up on stage to be auctioned off, my adrenaline was pumping. My handler had trouble keeping me from running him over.
Numbers started rolling much faster then I could keep up with. I didn't even hear the final price, just the wood slam down. Within the hour, I was placed in an unfamiliar trailer and on the way to some unfamiliar place. What would happen to me?
- - -
What happened over the next week was very hard to explain. It was a tumble of confusing, exciting, and frightening events. I was placed in a rolling, flying, dark metal vehicle after my trip in that weird trailer. When I was let out, the land I found myself in had not even a familiar smell on the air. People spoke differently and even acted differently. I saw my new owner for the first time, a gallant and gentle young man who led me around with utter confidence.
My new home was a huge and magnificent ranch with more horses than I could count. I was immediately placed in a more secluded round pen and checked out by a "veterinarian" with lots of sharp needles. Two weeks after my arrival, I was placed in the main barn between two noisy and silly three year olds like me. Although it was a sudden change, I was loving the noise and bustle of it all. It was so different and interesting. When my stablemates reared or bucked or made a silly noise, I followed them. This was fun! Soon I was released into a pasture with those same three year olds and a completely disinterested, older "nanny" mare. We owned the land. We were the notorious troublemakers and the noisiest of them all. This was the life! I belonged here.
- - -
At my age, I was drawn into training. My wild side resisted it - I was a stubborn little girl with quite the temper. I have to admit I threw multiple tantrums throughout my first year. My owner had yet to decide what to focus me on, so we tried it all. It was hard to find anything because I was so small. We couldn't compete in much because of my height. It was exhausting and frustrating! Sometimes my friends and I had little energy to run in the fields! I hated it. It was better than doing nothing, but still quite hard and exerting.
- - -
In the next year, again my life flipped. When all seemed to be going well, it took a turn. I was fine - a happy and healthy young mare indeed. My owner, however, was not so healthy. He fell ill early in my fourth year. It wasn't that bad at first. A couple of minor issues he wrote off, and continued to train us horses. Mid-year he was hospitalized. We went weeks without training. My friends and I were so full of energy, we just couldn't get it all out in the field! We needed more to do!
When we were finally trained again, it was not by the man we were used to, it was by his brother. His brother, although effective and doing his best, was much rougher and uncoordinated. He was losing us all. Our attentions were shorter and our stubborn tendencies were higher. I began to refuse him myself, frustrated with him as much as he was frustrated with me.
Our owner did come down to see us all - for the last time. He came in a wheelchair pushed by his wife and looked weaker and a bit more pained. He gave us all long strokes and did what he could with grooming. I sadly looked at him, almost knowing what was going to happen. And I thought this would be my home.
- - -
As expected, my owner quickly lost the ability to keep all of us, as we were all falling behind in training and not having everything we needed. He made the decision to sell or give away most all of us, except for a few older horses for his family to ride and have fun on. He wanted to especially give away the younger ones, like me, quickly, so our training could restart. So I was going on another journey.
The place I went to was much more temporary and more of a small stop on my journey. I came with many other horses, but sadly could not find my two pasture buddies. They called it Cottonwood. It was a place full of so many horses. Young and old, crazy and calm, big and small. It was a lot to take in. Thing was, almost every day horses would come in and horses would go out. I often heard the word "adoption" when a horse was about to leave or had left. After another first two weeks of being separated from other horses, except the ones where I came from, I was placed in the barn. I was next to a mother and her young foal and a five year old stallion. I was close to four and a half myself, and was to immediately go back into training for close to six months.
Here is the lady teaching me - younger, bright, and stubborn. She handles me lightly and ignored the tantrums I throw. She is as defiant as I. I like her. We a lot throughout the months. The times when I'm not in training, I get lazy time in my stall or grazing time in the pasture with three new horses. Considering only starting training at three and losing a lot of ground leading up to coming to Cottonwood, it is hard work. My trainer cracks down on me and shapes me into a better horse. At times I wish I could stay here forever - everything is perfect here. Training, pasture, lots of horses, and great care. Yet I have a sense that I will one day go as other horses come. Where will I go, though?
- - -
On my fifth birthday, "adoption" floats around me. My trainer, talking to another woman, says I'm ready for "adoption". A man says my "adoption" will be soon. It's everywhere. Am I about ready to leave here? After a great six months? Everyone says I'm healthy, strong, trained, and ready for it. What is happening? It all goes down in a week, when I do not expect it. People, new people, come to see me. Many have papers that are for "adoption" they peer in and look at me. After a half hour, finally, they all leave. I am thankful for the peace. But what happens now?
- - -
Today is adoption day. Today is the day I leave. Who is my new owner?
~~*~~
Give me one interesting fact about the viola and on interesting fact about the Sarcidano Horse breed:
The Viola: This instrument has played a part in past and present music. Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach all happened to play the viola, and today popular bands use violas in their songs, including The Goo Goo Dolls.
The Sarcidano Horse: The Sarcidano Horse comes from Italy, and happens to be one of only fifteen breeds indigenous to the country. It originated from Italy's Sardinia province. It is a lively horse that happens to be shorter then average horse breeds. Its alternative names include Cavallo Sarcidanese and Cavallo de Sarcidano.
~~*~~
Extras (optional): Information for facts found here and here.
