Are You My Mother?

Last night, I went out to the barn to check on Lucy and the dogs before going upstairs to bed. The dogs met me at the door and followed me up the aisle to Lucy who had her head poking out of her stall into the aisle, watching us. Kersey stood next to me and Lucy reached her head all the way down and sniffed the top of Kersey's head. Kersey looked at me: Do I stay here next to you and let this huge horse sniff my head, or do I retreat out of reach next to Sedona? In the end, she stayed frozen in place and Lucy lifted her head back up to me. I gave her a cookie and said goodnight. Pistol was watching from her stall and gave me a look that said; There had better be another cookie in your pocket for me. Of course there was.

This morning Pistol and Lucy were quietly waiting for breakfast. We gave them the morning to continue getting to know each other through the safety of a fence while we went to the farmers market.

At noontime, Brett put a halter on Pistol and I put one on Lucy. Lucy and I followed Brett and Pistol out of the barn. I wanted to walk Lucy around the property a bit; particularly up by the dressage court where I will be riding her. She walked along on a loose lead until we started up the path to the arena, past the dreaded miniature donkeys. Tuffy had run up to the fence to get a closer look at Lucy. She wasn't so sure she wanted a closer look at him.

Lucy danced next to me as we walked along. About halfway to the dressage court we stopped and I turned her to look at Tuffy. She stood for a minute, stretched her nose out to him, and took some cautious steps to the fence. Tuffy stood his ground on the other side, with his nose pressed up against the fence. Lucy arched and stretched her nose down to Tuffy and ... nickered. The soft, blowing, tender nickering sounds that a mare makes to her foal. Tuffy didn't know what to think.

Hey, lady. I may be small but I am a grown up and you are NOT my mother.

We continued our walk. Lucy didn't mind the donkeys (poor lost children, just need a mother) after that. As we started walking around the dressage court she saw Flash, Jackson and Mufasa hanging their heads over the fence of the upper pasture, ogling the girls for all they were worth. Lucy started dancing again.

After our walk, we put Pistol and Lucy together in the clover pasture (which is pretty dry and not deserving of that name right now). Lucy floated back and forth in a very elevated trot and then rolled. Three times. She and Pistol didn't bat an eye at each other; just got down to the hard work of grazing.

The clover pasture shares its western fence line with the goats. I had been warned that Lucy does not like sheep so we weren't sure what she would think of the goats. She kept a wide berth initially, but within an hour she was grazing along the shared fence, completely unconcerned with the goats.

She seems to be settling in nicely.