[ty_tay]

Dia.
#1569

Name:
Age: 6yrs
Breed: Mustang
Color: Blue roan
Gender: Mare
Markings: Tobiano, bald face
Height: 14.3hh
Vice/Fear/Special: Fear of large quantities of water. (Anything large than a shallow stream)
Notes:

[Dia.]

i claim.
she be mine. <3

Name: Abstract Design "Abby"
Age: 6yrs
Breed: Mustang
Color: Blue roan
Gender: Mare
Markings: Tobiano, bald face
Height: 14.3hh
Vice/Fear/Special: Fear of large quantities of water. (Anything large than a shallow stream)

Personality: TBD

[Dia.]

Where I live, the cowboy hats are big, the belt buckles are bigger, and the idea of "I know best" is abnormally enormous. Everyone is a cowboy with some sort of blood relation to this place. Even the kids who are smaller than their saddles are walking around in their little boots, with their little hats, and some massive belt buckle they won at the last rodeo.
Everyone except for me anyway. Honestly, I don't know how I ended up here. Ten years ago, if you asked me where I saw myself in ten years, the thought that I'd be on some ranch with cows and cowboys wouldn't have even crossed my mind.
Of course, it's not easy doing what I do here. I can't tell you how many times I've been told I needed to drop the "english-snob" attitude and buy myself a nice little ropin' horse. Or, I've been told that my horse doesn't need to wear his blanket in the winter or the vet doesn't need to come out for that. Apparently, everything I've learned about horses and riding over the span of my 26 years is wrong and I need to learn how to do it right.
It's simply infuriating, yet I put up with it. My big warmblood gelding has been towering over all of the ranch horses on this property for a little less than a year. Every time I saddle up and ride, I get some sort of flack about getting a real horse that doesn't need to feel pretty in order to work.
At some point, I walked into some sort of meeting in the office. They were discussing the upcoming mustang makeover event and sending in their forms. I immediately wanted in. Of course, they thought I was crazy. They guffawed and hollered until tears were rolling down their hardened faces and they were clutching at their beer bellies. I filled out the form anyway and shoved it in the envelope.
"This ain't no job for a dressage queen, little lady." One of the ranch hands said pointedly, hands on his hips.
"Send my form in anyway." I said, turned on my heel, and walked back into the barn.


(forgot the spot on her hip and I forgot to save it as a psd file D:)

It was extremely windy as I pulled up into the ranch parking lot. A massive trailer was just leaving and I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I forgot about something important. Trailers were driving on and off the property all the time.
However, I suddenly remembered that the mustangs were supposed to arrive today. I hadn't found out what time, so I just figured I'd arrive whenever I wanted and hope I was okay. Apparently, I wasn't.. and the guys were already sorting out the royal mess in the corral they had set up.
I walked over to join them as they stared at the swarming mustangs and sized up the challenge. I wondered which one would be mine.. or if they had even sent in my form.
"Yours is the blue one," someone pointed her out to me. I let myself smile when I saw the mare.
"So what can I do to help?" I asked as they started moving and getting ready to implement their plan to separate the horses.
"Stand over there and watch."
With a huff, I crossed my arms and wandered off to lean against a tree and watch. Truthfully, I was relieved I wouldn't have to dive into that mess. The amount of stress in such a small area was overwhelming.

---

It took a couple of hours, but eventually the mustangs were separated into their own pens. My mare was one of the last to be taken out, but as soon as she was released again, I made my way over to the fence. I just leaned on one of the rails and watched her. She wasn't pacing like many of the others. However, she was obviously very tense and scared. She would take a few steps and then freeze. Her legs would be completely straight and her neck sprung up and stiffened. Her eyes would point directly at something and she would stare until she spooked and bolted a few strides. Then she would repeat the process.
For some reason that I couldn't possibly understand, many of the men were already dragging saddles out, approaching their terrorized mustangs, and throwing the tack on. Then, they would just walk away and sit in the shade with the others to watch.
While I had ridden very young, fresh horses, I had never actually started them. If I hadn't done any of my own research and preparation beforehand, I probably would have simply followed their lead.
However, I knew I didn't want to start this mare like that. She was incredibly afraid, but she had an honest look. Like most mustangs, her legs were sturdy. She also appeared to be sane, even if it was only for a couple of heartbeats at a time.
"Aren't you gonna get started?" An older man came up next to me.
"I already have." I answered confidently, watching closely as the mare blew her nose and turned her head to look at me for the first time.
"Crazy." He mumbled, and walked away. I knew that he had been offering his help in some sort of weird, work-hardened, old-man way. However, I didn't want to acknowledge it. She was my project, I'd do this my own way even if they believed it was the wrong way.

I stopped paying attention to the others after a while and just focused on me and my new mare. She was still unsure about her new surroundings, but was slowly calming down. I figured that by tomorrow morning, I'd be able to work with her a little bit more. She came over to the fence a few times, obviously curious about who I was and why I was just standing there and watching her. However, she would get within arms reach, and then dart off in the other direction. I started talking to her, just soft enough that the others couldn't hear me. I was afraid that they would think I was even crazier than they already believed. Even if I didn't make any progress, I'm sure that she did.
I had plenty of time to work out a name while I was standing there. To pass some time, I had written some ideas on a small piece of paper. The one that didn't end up being scratched out was Abstract Design. She seemed to respond to the names Abby and Abs.

Daily Report #01
- I simply stood and observed from outside her fence
- She's extremely tense, stressed, and spooky
- She's very curious and has approached me
- She seems honest

[Dia.]

I had been thinking about Abby all night and I grew more excited as I drove into the ranch lot. I grabbed my training-designated fanny pack which was stuffed full of different bits of treat and practically fell out of the truck. I hadn't been sure what kind of treats she would like the most, so I took a very wide variety; from bits of carrots to homemade horse cookies, I had them all. I also made sure I didn't forget the bigger treats (to prevent finger biting and a claustrophobic mare), a new pink halter(specifically for Abs), and a few clean brushes(because I've never had horses share grooming supplies, yet another thing I was criticized for).
With a spring in my step and the promise that I'd ignore the cowboys today, I made my way to Abby's round pen.
She had obviously settled into her new home very quickly. I giggled when she bowed down on one knee and stuck her head under the bottom rail to pull at some grass that was just out of her reach.
I leaned against the fence with my arms dangling inside the pen. The halter was in one hand and I hopefully held half of a carrot in the other. She turned to look at me, chewed thoughtfully on her single blade of grass, and then went back to doing her own thing. With a nervous sigh, I walked over to the gate, opened it and stepped inside. Again, she looked at me curiously, but made no move to seem any more interested. I grabbed the mounting block that was right outside the gate, tossed it next to me, and then latched the gate. I realized throwing the block was probably a stupid thing to do, but the mare didn't bolt.
Instead, she let out a hollow snort, lowered her head, and stepped warily towards the new object that had so rudely been thrown into her pen. I stayed where I was and watched as she sniffed, pawed at, and finally nudged the block with her nose.
She got bored quickly, picked her head up, and trotted around for a couple of minutes. Realizing her curiosity, I had an idea.
Gently, I tossed the halter a few feet away from me. Like when I threw the mounting block, Abby didn't spook. She took interest in the new object and walked over to it.
She quickly learned that when she nudged it, the buckles made a cool noise. She grasped the halter in her teeth and picked her head up, the halter dangling from her mouth. She fixed her eyes on me again. A little bit of drool dripped down the material and I giggled at her. She shook her head up and down a little, playing with her new toy. I momentarily wondered if I would have to buy a different halter for training purposes.
The next thing she did surprised me. I watched in shock as she tentatively took a few steps, moving closer to me. She stretched her neck out and sniffed the air about an arms length from my face, the halter still hanging from her mouth. She then flipped her head up and tossed the halter in my direction. It landed with a clink next to me.
"Really now?" I said in amusement. I stood still for a moment before picking up the halter and walking over to the mounting block. I still held the carrot in my hand as I sat down to watch her.
She kept her eyes on me, but seemed reluctant to approach me again. I figured I wouldn't push her and she would do it when she was ready. I put the halter down next to me and tossed the carrot half, wondering if she'd continue with her little game.
She did, although this time she wasn't so cautious. Abby trotted up to the snack, dipped her head, and took one sniff before eagerly crunching on it. She munched away happily.
The look she gave me begged for more, so I held out the other half of the carrot. She slowly stepped forward and my heart was racing by the time she took the treat from my hand. To my surprise, she didn't turn and dart off after getting the carrot. Instead, she just stood there, within arms reach, eating her carrot.
I realized I was holding my breath and let myself breathe again. Abby reached forward and sniffed at me again, blowing hot air into my face. I took one of my home-made horse cookies from my pack and held it out to her. She smelled my hand and licked up the treat. She bobbed her head happily while she chewed and stepped forward again. This time, she nudged my arm.
I reached out and lay my hand on the side of her neck and stroked her for a moment. She tensed at my touch, but relaxed as time went on.
With a grin, I figured that we should stop on a good note. So, I stood up, held out one more cookie for her to snack on, and picked up my stuff. She took a few steps after me before wandering to the other side to keep nibbling on grass. I left the mounting block right inside the gate and the halter on the hook outside the gate.
Then, I went to the barn to get my gelding ready to ride.

Daily Report #2
- She's extremely curious
- She approached me
- She seems to be very food motivated and she looks like she'll like games
- She let me pet her neck

[Dia.]

Day Three
With my bag of treats around my waist and grooming tote in hand, I made my way to Abby's pen. She was lying flat on her side, soaking up the morning sunlight. When I got closer, I noticed that the mounting block was on the other side of the pen and her halter was hanging over a low tree branch overhead. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if the cowboys were only messing with me or if Abby did this herself.
"Abs." I coo'ed as I leaned against the fence. One ear lazily twitched my direction.
"C'mon get up." I told her as I walked around to get closer to the halter. As I climbed on the rails of the fence to reach it, she pushed herself to her hooves and shook the dust out of her fur. I tossed the halter into the middle of the pen and then, hopped down, walking back over to the gate.
When I looked up from undoing the latch, the mare had the halter in her mouth and she was flipping it around. After a few tosses of her head, she'd let go and it would fly up into the air. I watched as it got stuck in the tree again and the mare stared at it.
With a sigh and a laugh, I walked over to the other side and retrieved the halter. This time, I carried it back around with me. I opened the gate and walked inside her pen. Abby stared at me and relaxed a hind leg. I took a piece of an apple from my bag and walked over to her. She looked at me with sleepy eyes as I approached, but didn't move. I stopped a few steps away from her and held out my hand.
Her nostrils flared as she smelled the treat and she immediately woke up to cover the distance between us and take it from my hand. I reached out to stroke her neck and she simply dropped her head and let her lip hang sleepily. As I continued to pet and scratch her, slowly making my way towards her shoulder, she would nudge my fanny pack like she knew that's where the treats were kept.
I started scratching under the mare's belly, right where her girth would be if she was wearing a saddle. Her lips twitched happily, so I kept scratching. A minute later, she turned her head around and rubbed my hip with her lips, returning the favor. I grinned and pulled a piece of carrot out of my back and held it out to her. Of course, she took it and munched away.
I stepped back, thought for a moment, and held the halter out. She sniffed it and stood warily as I put it over her nose. She pulled her head back, eying me suspiciously, but I handed her another treat and tried again. This time, I was able to keep it over her nose. I gave her another treat while she stood there and while she was chewing, buckled the halter. She snorted and pulled back, shaking her head. I figured she thought I had betrayed her and as soon as she quieted, I gave her another treat.
While she was working out the new thing on her head, I stepped away and walked over to the gate where my bag of brushes was. I heard hoofsteps behind me and realized that Abby had calmed down and took a few steps after me before stopping and watching what I was doing. She tossed her head around a few times.
I pulled a brush out of the bag and tossed it in her direction. This took her mind off of the halter and she walked up to the brush. While she examined the new object and tried to pick it up, I walked over to her, handed her another piece of carrot, and retrieved the brush. I ran my hand down her neck and then followed it with the brush.
She seemed to enjoy being brushed and she let her head hang sleepily again, even if she had to try and get the halter off of her head every few seconds. I kept brushing her and then switched to the other side. She didn't love being brushed under her belly and got very tense when I tried brushing her left side when I was standing on her right. She didn't spook or try to get away though.
I kept feeding her pieces of carrots and cookies until I thought that we had worked enough today. I picked up my stuff to leave and decided to leave her halter on over night since it was secure enough that she wouldn't get caught up on anything.
Once again, I heard her take a few steps after me as I left.

Daily Report #3
- She will love a toy
- She likes getting scratched under her front leg/belly
- She is still motivated by food
- She approached me and followed me
- She likes and accepted being brushed
- We started working with the halter

[Dia.]

Day Four
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Daily Report #4
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[Dia.]

Day Five
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Daily Report #5
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[Dia.]

Day Six
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Daily Report #6
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[Dia.]

My vacation set me back over a month. .__.