Princess Lucy Pitches a Fit

Saturday we moved the horses back to their pastures at lunch time.  All the horses, including Lucy, walked calmly next to us as we led them from the barn to their pastures.  Tex was actually the most animated -- but that just translated to him walking a bit faster than normal with his ears pricked forward and leaning towards the pasture.  Once there, he dropped to the mud for a good roll, then stood, shook and bucked.  He hopped around a bit -- striking with his front, bucking with his hind, and trying to get Flash to join in.  Flash was more interested in the hay Brett had put in their feeder.

Flash: Are you sure you don't have cookies?

A few minutes after turning the girls loose, we notice Lucy on high alert.  She was staring up towards the dressage court (where there was nothing unusual), then snorting and trotting in her best demonstration of impulsion and elevation.  (seriously gorgeous to watch).  She wasn't relaxed but she had a lovely arch in her neck as she floated across the pasture; and back again; and away again; and back again.  I looked at Brett.  We shook our heads and walked to the house.

In the late afternoon I went into the girls pasture with the muck cart and rake.  As I scooped up manure, I could see Pistol standing under the trees at the far end of the pasture.  Lucy was on the near side of the fallen tree and she stayed there as I made my way along the fence line.  She didn't come over to me for attention but stood by the lower fence watching for Brett and the hay cart.

When I got over to Pistol, she seemed a little lonely.  I went over to her and started rubbing all the mud off of her face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucy turn from the fence and give us a hard stare.  Then she was cantering over to us, bucking as she came.  She chased Pistol off and then gave me a look -- the kind I used to get from my mother when I was in trouble.  I heard Lucy loud and clear, Don't you EVER touch another horse.  Do you hear me?  I am your horse.  You give me attention and nobody else.

I apologized and tried to scratch her withers.  She gave me a cold look and walked off.

I think she's in heat.  Talk about PMS.  And temper tantrums.  And all those awful stereotypes about mares.

Tex Melts my Heart

I managed to get out of work a few minutes early so I could get home before dark and help Brett move the horses into the barn.  The sky was dark and cloudy when I pulled in the driveway, and a cold breeze made me shiver and pull my jacket tighter as I walked to the house from the garage.  I put on my heavy jacket and warm work gloves before going back outside to help Brett.  He had the stalls set up with hay already so we headed straight to the pasture.

The horses knew what was up.  They always do.

Lucy and Pistol were at their gate, waiting.  Pistol stood quietly while Lucy paced and banged the gate with her chest.  When I went into the pasture with her halter, she resisted moving back, and she didn't want to lower her head for the halter.  Oh, boy, I thought.  This is going to be interesting.  Sure enough, I had to remind her with each step -- I kid you not, each. step. -- to behave.  She looked sideways at the posts Brett put in for the new bridge (which she could see from her pasture).  She thought it would be best to side pass over the bridge while giving it the hairy eyeball.  And she kept trying to stick her head ten feet in the air.  Sheesh.  Not fun.  Walking Lucy in a cold breeze is not easy.

On the other hand...

Tex and Flash were also waiting by their gate.  Tex stood about 20 feet back and waited for me.  He dropped his nose into the halter and then as I reached for the buckle, he jerked his head up and away.  I realized that my gloved hand was pulling on his mane without me realizing it.  I apologized, let go of the mane, and he immediately relaxed.  I took off my glove to reach into my pocket for a cookie and as my hand came back out, Tex dipped his nose and wiggled his nose on my sleeve.  It was such a sweet gesture; so friendly and trusting and not at all pushy.  It feels like he has crossed another comfort line -- he knows he can touch me (respectfully) and that seems to have made something okay in his brain that wasn't okay before.  He is more confident and comfortable approaching me, and he is more relaxed when I work with him.

Of course, he walked to the barn on a loose lead like a perfect gentleman.