Day 6 - July 27th
Day six was a bit more tolerant weather wise, but it was still a rather lazy day at Manteca Creek. With no chores to attend to I had voted to just sit on the fence of the round pen with a cold water and admire Rosco. Now that he had all the dirt off of him and I now had the full view, it was hard to stop watching him.
Besides the bare patch on his leg, his coat had no flaws to it. I deduced that he probably had never had a mare of his own, or hardly ever attempted to get one. Hard to believe considering he was 8. Rosco was a bit small though. Perhaps where he came from he just wasn't band stallion material. Poor guy. But it made things easier on us. He wasn't possessive of mares, and seemed more interested in being friends with them rather than claiming them. Whether this was from being gelded, or having simply never had a band, I'd never know.
Rosco was mowing down some hay I'd given him earlier. He was quiet and calm today. Perhaps the heat was just as terrible for him too.
He lifted his head from the pile with a mouthful of hay, eyes flicking around at his surroundings. A few strands of hay floated down from his mouth and back down into the dirt.
'Hmm. This might be a good time for some more trust building.' I mused. I set my water down on the fence, and then ever so slowly, slid down the other side of it. I landed in the round pen with a soft thud, and then slowly sat down. Rosco watched, intrigued by the fact that I was actually in the pen with him now. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He took a step towards me, and then stopped again.
"It's okay boy. I'm not gonna hurt you. In fact if anyone could do any hurting here it's you." I stated softly. His ears perked forwards. He took a few steps closer to me, pausing once again. He sniffed the air, and then apparently happy with the results, began to walk lazily towards me.
He was right in front of me now, and slowly lowering his head towards me. I stayed absolutely still.
His warm breath tickled my face, smelling heavily of the hay he'd just consumed a few minutes prior. I refrained from giggling in case it spooked him.
He seemed really curious about everything that I was. He lifted his head a bit more to sniff at my hair. And then to my surprise and slight horror, he started nibbling my hair for whatever reason. I had no idea what he was trying to accomplish here. What did my shampoo smell good enough to eat?
And then I remembered.
The shampoo I used had a green apple scent.
That explained things.
Not really enjoying the whole experience as much as him, I slowly moved my hand up over my head to block his mouth. He complied without jerking away. Just simply lifted his head and looked down at me, as if questioning why that wasn't a good thing to do. There was no sign of aggression though.
I decided to take things a step further.
As slowly as possible, I began to stand up. As I lifted myself to my feet, Rosco backed up a little bit, ears perked forward. He kept a safe distance between us, but still seemed to want to come over here and possibly try and eat my hair more.
I was now standing up right in front of him, not moving a muscle. He stood in place for a moment longer, and then walked back over to join me again, sniffing me over as if something about me had changed when I stood up. He seemed pretty confident that I wasn't going to hurt him, probably now that he saw he was much bigger than me.
Most people probably would have thought of me as crazy for doing this so early on, but mutual trust was a big thing at Manteca Creek. If this was going to have to work, we'd have to both trust each other in situations like this. He had to trust that I wouldn't hurt him, and in turn he had to trust me. Without that bond, this would probably never work.
After a while of him investigating me, I slowly reached out my hand. He took one step back, but began sniffing my palm a second later. His muzzle was in my hand now, and I had to resist the urge not to let my joy overcome me in this moment. I gave him another minute to investigate my hand, and then finally moved it up to rest on his face, slowly stroking the lower part of his blaze.
He didn't even back away.
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