We keep the horses in the barn when the rain is heavy and the wind is strong. If we have light, intermittent showers, the horses are out in their pastures. As a result, there is a lot of moving them back-and-forth. Last week, while I was at work, Brett took the horses out. He told me that Lucy was prancing, and dancing; spinning and snorting; rearing and breathing fire. He got her moved, but it wasn't a pleasant experience.
Thursday, I made a point of leaving work early so I could be home before the rain started. I wanted to help move the horses in -- particularly Lucy and Tex. Jackson was already in; with his abscess we had kept him in the covered round pen. He was not impressed.
As I grabbed my bag off of the passenger seat and slid out of my car, the rain started to come down. I changed into my barn clothes and headed out to get Lucy. She and Pistol were at the far end of their pasture, by the front gate, calmly watching Brett put the trash cans curbside. They looked over at me and started ambling my direction. Sheesh, I thought, I'm going to be drenched by the time they get here. As I sighed and waited, Lucy and Pistol jumped forward and came towards me at a full gallop, sliding to a bucking stop in front of me. I was busy doing jumping jacks and yelling to keep them out of my space. So dignified.
I slipped the halter on Lucy who was still snorting loudly.
You need to walk like a lady, Lucy. No antics.
But I'm getting wet! she snorted.
You've been standing in the rain, calmly, for half an hour. Don't give me that crap. You are a ranch horse now. Drop your head and breathe. I tugged downward on the lead rope until she sighed and dropped her head.
She continued to snort and breathe fire as I closed the gate behind us. Pistol bucking in place and Jackson calling from the barn didn't help matters.
Trolls!!! she screamed and spun away from me.
Chickens, Lucy. Its the chickens. You watch them all day long. Get a grip. Once again, I tugged until she dropped her head and stood quietly. We resumed walking.
Trolls! More trolls!
Tuffy had walked up to his pasture fence to see what all the excitement was about. We rounded the corner past the hen house and... you guessed.. more trolls.
Brett was standing by the trash cans waiting for me to get Lucy in her stall before taking the next one down to the street. He was getting drenched. Apparently he resembled a wet troll.
The rest of the horses were well behaved. Tex waited for me (although he did take a step back when the goats came charging over to see if I had Cheerios on me). They decided it was raining a bit more than they liked and headed for their shelter. Tex stood at my shoulder, waiting. I slipped the halter on and led him to the barn.
I am seriously getting attached to that horse.