Becoming Beautiful
A day or two after the gelding's big bath, I was watching him in the round pen and struggling with a name for him. As the ball got rolling, I would have to have one - and I wasn't about to settle with something thoughtless and simple. To help the process along, I brought the mustang back to the wash racks and decided to give him a nice, long grooming. I quickly eliminated all traces of mud, to keep him from getting that bad again.
I picked out his feet thoroughly, ensuring all rocks were out of his frog. I made sure his leg markings were nice and white. I brushed his face with a soft brush that he seemed to enjoy, and stared into his big, haunted eyes. Oh, how I loved his face. His facial marking. His beautiful brown eyes.
I spent lots of time brushing out his wild tail. As much as I loved it, it had to be tamed sometimes. I untangled every strand and smoothed it out. I smiled at his long, flowing tail, and then moved up to his neck. I got to work on his mane, pressing it all down on one side evenly. It was soon flowing like his tail. The gelding allowed me to brush his forelock, and once done with that I placed a hand on his nose and stood with him. I looked into his eyes. There was something there. Something secret. An experience. Some sort of trauma. Haunted.
"Blair," I whispered to the gelding. He pressed his nose into my hand further. "Yes, that's it. That's your name." I smiled softly. "Hello, Blair. Welcome to your home."
A day or two after the gelding's big bath, I was watching him in the round pen and struggling with a name for him. As the ball got rolling, I would have to have one - and I wasn't about to settle with something thoughtless and simple. To help the process along, I brought the mustang back to the wash racks and decided to give him a nice, long grooming. I quickly eliminated all traces of mud, to keep him from getting that bad again.
I picked out his feet thoroughly, ensuring all rocks were out of his frog. I made sure his leg markings were nice and white. I brushed his face with a soft brush that he seemed to enjoy, and stared into his big, haunted eyes. Oh, how I loved his face. His facial marking. His beautiful brown eyes.
I spent lots of time brushing out his wild tail. As much as I loved it, it had to be tamed sometimes. I untangled every strand and smoothed it out. I smiled at his long, flowing tail, and then moved up to his neck. I got to work on his mane, pressing it all down on one side evenly. It was soon flowing like his tail. The gelding allowed me to brush his forelock, and once done with that I placed a hand on his nose and stood with him. I looked into his eyes. There was something there. Something secret. An experience. Some sort of trauma. Haunted.
"Blair," I whispered to the gelding. He pressed his nose into my hand further. "Yes, that's it. That's your name." I smiled softly. "Hello, Blair. Welcome to your home."
