#1 wrote:Today's the day, the new arrival will be brought in. I wasn't given much information on this newbie, aside from the fact it was a stallion of the Kleeare species, and he was a spirited young thing.
When the trailer pulls up late in the afternoon, I'm busy preparing his stall. I hear the trailer thundering up the driveway, and quickly set aside the pitchfork I'd been using to distribute the straw bedding, before running out to greet the newcomer. The driver said nothing to me, only raised his eyebrow as he looked over my tiny stature, as the new arrival thrashed about in the back. "He's a wild one." The man warns, before lowering the ramp to the trailer; what I see shocks me.
The beast standing before me is beautiful. Raw, untrimmed beauty, with matted fur, and his ribs slightly sticking out. He was a beautiful lilac roan with pintaloosa markings; he was a dream come true. My moment of awe was quickly interrupted by a loud squeal coming from the stallion, followed by a loud crash of metal, as the stallion kicked out one leg in obvious annoyance. Geez, someone doesn't like being cooped up, I think to myself, as the man heads into the trailer to untie the Kleeare and lead him down the ramp. Once out in the light, I begin to notice little details about the handsome stallion, that I may not have noticed before. His bioluminescent spots are a light blue, just like his eyes. His muzzle is the most adorable shade of pink, and his tail is tipped with a brilliant shade of auburn, so close to red it's almost as if it were dyed.
Honestly, he's breath-taking. In midst of my admiration, the man delivering the stallion tosses the lead rope at me with a huff. "He's a real crazy one, you'd better keep an eye on him," he mutters, before climbing back into the pickup truck that the trailer was attached to, and driving off. I glance at the stallion, who's flicking his tail repeatedly, and swiveling his ears front and back. He seems a bit uneasy, it's probably best to get him settled down before I try anything drastic with him. With that, I give a tug on the lead, and begin to escort the stallion to his new home, here, at The Vineyard.
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#2 wrote:Okay, so I've figured out this stallion does
not like being told what to do, especially when it comes to small enclosures. The second I brought him into the barn he tensed up and refused to budge. Only after some gentle coaxing and a few tugs on the rope, did he reluctantly follow me to his stall. It was around this time that he decided he'd much rather be running out and about than be placed into a cramped little stall, and he reared up, effectively pulling the lead rope from my hands, before bolting. I can't tell you how long it took to catch him, but by the time I had him in my grasp again, I was worn out, and he was playing innocent like nothing had even happened. What a brat.
Second time's the charm, right? Wrong. Even with him now being slightly worn out, the stallion did not want anything to do with his stall. It didn't make any sense, the enclosure was a cozy box stall, with fresh straw laid out for his comfort, and a trough filled to the brim with fresh water. I hadn't put out any food yet, simply because I needed to formulate an appropriate diet to help him put his weight back on, without making him sick or risking any further health issues. Aside from lacking a proper welcome-home meal, what else could be wrong? And then a sharp whinny made it all clear. The stall beside his own was none other than The Vineyard's only male Kleeare,
Camisado. A large, bulky stallion, who had been the undeniable leader, up until now. The gray stallion had his ears pinned and teeth bared slightly, causing the new arrival to dance in place and pull nervously at his rope.
Maybe I shouldn't put him here, maybe the stall beside Ursula would be a better fit...
#3 wrote:Problem solved; a stall next to Ursula makes for a much better fit for our newest arrival. And while he still doesn't have a name, I'm really beginning to see a complex personality unfolding before me. He's a wild child, with an issue regarding the hierarchy statuses within our slow-growing Kleeare herd. He wants nothing to do with Camisado, who's posed an obvious threat to him, but he also doesn't seem like he'd back down from a fight if he were in a more comfortable surrounding, such as a pasture or an open field. Not wanting to know how that battle would end, I've decided the two stallions would only be put out to pasture at different intervals, to ensure no conflicts can erupt between them.
Speaking of conflicts, fighting with a full-grown equine is not something I recommend doing. Really. No animal acts like a bigger baby than a stallion being forced to take his medication. It's like trying to get a toddler to eat their vegetables, it just won't happen unless you can use reverse psychology to trick them. Simply trying to give this Kleeare his medication wasn't enough, I had to mash it up and thoroughly mix it into his feed in order for him to consume it. And luckily, his formulated diet paired with these immune-boosting medications made it difficult for him to tell there was anything off with the meal. Granted, the food could be considered a medicine itself, simply because the diet was meant to help him put on weight at a healthy pace. A few more weeks of this, and he should be in a much better state than he is currently.
For future reference, don't ever try to force feed any mammal their medications, especially stallions. I don't know what was worse, having the medicine spit back at me, or the extreme childish-ness he displayed afterwards. Seriously, it was pitiful how he kept trying to avoid eye-contact with me; he just wanted to pout.
#4 wrote:After spending a few weeks with this boy and watching him come out of his shell, I've decided to name him after the Nordic God of inspiration, Kvasir. Having seen him grow like he has has been an incredible experience, and I'm honestly so surprised by his transformation. Before, I would never have expected to see this stallion frolicking in his paddock like a love-struck filly, if anything he would have been tossing up his heels and speeding around like some kind of Mustang.
But no, he's actually playing in his paddock, with his newest friend, Henry. Henry is a pygmy goat that The Vineyard's had for several years. Up until now, the goat had always been a grumpy little thing who tried to headbutt anybody who came too close. Now, the grumpy old goat has decided that Kvasir is his new playmate, and the two are chasing each other back and forth like a couple of kids playing tag. If Kvasir catches Henry, he nips him. If Henry catches Kvasir, he gives him a friendly headbutt in his hindquarters. It's an odd pairing, to say the least, but it's nice to see them both so happy and energized. Even better, Kvasir is beginning to look a lot more like a healthy young Kleeare, now that he's regained some of that lost weight and muscle mass. In good timing, too, seeing as he has a scheduled vet appointment coming up.
Aside from Henry, Kvasir is also getting along quite well with his stablemate, Ursula. The typically introverted mare has taken a liking to this new young, free spirit, and on occasion, will join him in a friendly race around the pasture when they're released together [under a watchful eye, of course]. Otherwise, it's usually him nipping at her and pulling on her mane and tail, while she tries to ignore him by grazing.
#5 wrote:It's pretty obvious this boy loves to stretch his legs, an what better way to get those muscles moving than some lunging around the round-pen? No saddles, no bridles, and nowhere for him to simply take off at his own free will. It's an exercise that requires him to stay in a secluded area, and listen to his handler. It forces him into a situation where he must form a bond with me, and learn to accept and obey my commands. A perfect workout, plus trust exercise.
At first, he paces around nervously, as I hold the lunge in one hand and a light whip in the other. Never once do I tap him with it, never once do I attempt to strike him with it; I simply move the object near his rear end to get him moving. At first, I work him through his gaits, warming up his muscles for a more vigorous routine: walking and trotting, a quick lap at a canter, before being brought back down to a trot and eventually a halt. I keep him on his toes, constantly changing the pace and direction, making no predictable patterns for him to follow: it's all about trust and obedience at this point. After a half hour of working with him, I reel him in and pat his neck in praise, as he steadies his breathing, slightly winded from the routine.
To reward him, I add a few extra handfuls of oats to his dinner, and give him a good grooming to keep his coat shiny, and continue building that bond with him. With everything that we've been through, I cannot wait to see what the veterinarian has to say about him and his transformation. Honestly, he's regained a majority of that lost weight, and has calmed down significantly since he's arrived. The fire is still strong within him, however, as he does have a tendency to cause mischief when he's bored, be it cribbing on his stall door, or gnawing through unattended hoses that are left in his water trough. Kvasir has made a remarkable journey to become who he is today, and I know the check-up will only confirm this assumption.
#6 wrote:Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is, Kvasir has been given a clean bill of health! The bad news? He actually bit the vet when they'd attempted to check his teeth... oops. And while the vet wasn't too pleased, I was over the moon to find out my precious baby had grown so significantly. I can still remember how skinny he'd been, how he'd been so skittish and ready to bolt whenever he felt endangered.
Now he's filled out; lean with muscle, and full of confidence. While he still avoids Camisado, he's much more compliant when it comes to being in his stall, and has a light in his eyes I hadn't seen before. I call it happiness, everyone else tries to convince me he's only trying to trick me. Pfft, he's not that mischievous. I mean, yeah, the fire still rages strong within him, but he's learned how to manage it appropriately, and has become a permanent resident of The Vineyard.
Where do we go from here? Only up. Kvasir can only get better from here, there's no turning back now. I'm hoping to work with him enough to make him eligible for pleasure rides, as I can imagine he'd be great to ride through rugged terrain. His gaits are so fluid, the only issue would be getting him saddle and bridle trained... neither of those things seem like they'd sit well with him, and I'm not too sure how he'd react with having to obey commands from a rider. He may listen well when he's being lunged, but he might not enjoy having the weight of someone else on his back, controlling his paces and limiting his actions... oh well, baby steps. Right now, I should probably work with him on checking his teeth, so that we don't have another biting incident come his next vet check-up... wish us luck!
