"Colt" in the small paddock, running from the big scary bray!
Today was another early start, an early start of fizzling nerves and excitement. I trotted out after feeding dogs and cats, and started to feed the mares and geldings we had stabled for this week. The eventing horses were out at pasture for the month, as the winter and spring were their busiest months. Derek and I have worked it out so that he and Annika will handle all afternoon/evening chores, along with most of the exercising, while I concentrate on our new arrival. I peeked out from the barn doors towards the paddock, watching his dusky form as he seemed to doze under the trees in the corner.
I headed over once it was bright and paused, watching my still-dirty boy shift a bit at my intrusion. His blue eyes grew wide as he stared at me, rather stiff and nervous still. I guess hoping for some calming down was too much to ask for in one night. I shoved half a flake of hay through the slats in the fence, and dropped it on the dirt. He swished a mud-crusted tail, a few chunks cracking and hitting the ground. He wasn't bolting, but he refused to move closer, even with the temptation of hay, as long I was there.
I backed up a bit, and walked over to a paddock across the driveway, leaning against the fence as I eyed him. The gelding moved closer, tentatively lipping up some hay, finally digging in. I breathed out a sigh- at least he was eating! As I leaned there, a soft muzzle brushed against my fingers, velvet lips pressing to my skin. Shaking my head, I stroked the dark muzzle of ChaCha, the silly pony female mule who resided with our "odd" female equines. A flash of movement caught my eye in the hayfield next to the colt's paddock, and I moved closer, worried another equine had gotten out and might startle him.
Unfortunately I forgot to give a bit of lovin' to our tiny, striped troublemaker, Riv. And of course, she was going to remind me. Riviningo was half miniature donkey, half zebra, and she had the lungs and volume of a donkey with the harsh barking sound of a zebra. The combination basically spelled out to a ear-ringing, breathy bray with the ability to wake the dead. ChaCha and Petroglyph immediately backed up to get away from the noise, ears pinned back. Colt, meanwhile, shot backward, before rearing up and coming down with a 'thud', galloping up and down the fence line before sliding to a stop under the tree. I waited for long moments until he stopped moving around, and even when I tried to approach him with utmost care, his skin would twitch and looked sleek with sweat.
Just as he was settling down...I guess the strange sound was too much for him. I trudged indoors, forcing myself not to get discouraged as I picked up a few dusty saddles from training yesterday and walked out to a small wooden stool next to his paddock. Using the hose, I soaped up the dusty, cracked leather, and brought new life and shine to them. I decided to put all my strength into the leather, and let my mind wander. Let the frustrations melt away, my head resting against the boards of the fence.
I didn't even register the soft hoofbeats of a slow, inching walk, until a shadow cast across my lap. My shivering mustang was watching me work, and I could imagine those crystalline eyes watching each movement of my rag across the metal and leather of the saddle. Refusing to look back, I sat for what ended up being nearly two hours, as he hung around me. Progress never tasted sweeter.
That night, I lay down again with a pen in hand, scribbling down another name idea.
No no, that's just terrible. And asking for trouble.
Today was another early start, an early start of fizzling nerves and excitement. I trotted out after feeding dogs and cats, and started to feed the mares and geldings we had stabled for this week. The eventing horses were out at pasture for the month, as the winter and spring were their busiest months. Derek and I have worked it out so that he and Annika will handle all afternoon/evening chores, along with most of the exercising, while I concentrate on our new arrival. I peeked out from the barn doors towards the paddock, watching his dusky form as he seemed to doze under the trees in the corner.
I headed over once it was bright and paused, watching my still-dirty boy shift a bit at my intrusion. His blue eyes grew wide as he stared at me, rather stiff and nervous still. I guess hoping for some calming down was too much to ask for in one night. I shoved half a flake of hay through the slats in the fence, and dropped it on the dirt. He swished a mud-crusted tail, a few chunks cracking and hitting the ground. He wasn't bolting, but he refused to move closer, even with the temptation of hay, as long I was there.
I backed up a bit, and walked over to a paddock across the driveway, leaning against the fence as I eyed him. The gelding moved closer, tentatively lipping up some hay, finally digging in. I breathed out a sigh- at least he was eating! As I leaned there, a soft muzzle brushed against my fingers, velvet lips pressing to my skin. Shaking my head, I stroked the dark muzzle of ChaCha, the silly pony female mule who resided with our "odd" female equines. A flash of movement caught my eye in the hayfield next to the colt's paddock, and I moved closer, worried another equine had gotten out and might startle him.
Unfortunately I forgot to give a bit of lovin' to our tiny, striped troublemaker, Riv. And of course, she was going to remind me. Riviningo was half miniature donkey, half zebra, and she had the lungs and volume of a donkey with the harsh barking sound of a zebra. The combination basically spelled out to a ear-ringing, breathy bray with the ability to wake the dead. ChaCha and Petroglyph immediately backed up to get away from the noise, ears pinned back. Colt, meanwhile, shot backward, before rearing up and coming down with a 'thud', galloping up and down the fence line before sliding to a stop under the tree. I waited for long moments until he stopped moving around, and even when I tried to approach him with utmost care, his skin would twitch and looked sleek with sweat.
Just as he was settling down...I guess the strange sound was too much for him. I trudged indoors, forcing myself not to get discouraged as I picked up a few dusty saddles from training yesterday and walked out to a small wooden stool next to his paddock. Using the hose, I soaped up the dusty, cracked leather, and brought new life and shine to them. I decided to put all my strength into the leather, and let my mind wander. Let the frustrations melt away, my head resting against the boards of the fence.
I didn't even register the soft hoofbeats of a slow, inching walk, until a shadow cast across my lap. My shivering mustang was watching me work, and I could imagine those crystalline eyes watching each movement of my rag across the metal and leather of the saddle. Refusing to look back, I sat for what ended up being nearly two hours, as he hung around me. Progress never tasted sweeter.
That night, I lay down again with a pen in hand, scribbling down another name idea.
Phantom
Buck
No no, that's just terrible. And asking for trouble.
Phantom
Buck
OOC Notes: Posted a day late once again, due to my finger injury. Slowly making baby steps!
