The sun was shining on the weekend, and Jackson is now under the careful care of our new (awesome) farrier. He's feeling great, walking great, and ready to rock and roll. I moved him into the arena/paddock with Lucy and Pistol. He immediately rolled, then did airs above ground, a few rodeo bronc bucks, and a lovely elevated trot.
Oh, my. Said Pistol (who is in heat).
Lucy acted as chaperone but when I worked with her Saturday, Pistol and Jackson were left alone together.
Pistol has been married a few, ahem, times. She's been bred and had a baby and knows the drill.
Jackson was gelded at a young age (I assume). He was interested but confused.
They touched noses, nuzzled each other, and Jackson went so far as to grab the crest of her neck. Pistol lifted her tail and parked herself. I'm ready, big boy.
Jackson just stood there so she carefully backed herself up, until her butt was on Jackson's chest and her tail was up his nose.
He looked at me with a mix of utter confusion and, dare I say, boredom.
Of course, as soon as I put Lucy back in the arena, she broke it up. I think Jackson was secretly relieved.