Yesterday I ventured over to clean and see The Mustangs. Although I truly wish I could have them at the Rolling I, the sad truth is that I have no way to keep them here. Fortunately a wonderful horsewoman, business owner and all around cowgirl stepped up and volunteered two stalls for them for the next two weeks. Of course, we are paying for feed and will go to care for and clean them but having two stalls at no charge is huge. The graciousness of true horse people is amazing. In any case... The Mustangs are only 15 minutes from my house if I don't stop for a sugar-free pomegranate-berry Slurpee at the 7-11.
The boys are more interested in food than anything else which is perfectly understandable. I hauled my cleaning gear up the hill and began mucking stalls. It seems to me a bit unfair to only clean their stalls every couple of days when I clean my own stalls twice a day but I have to remind myself that the important thing here is that these boys are getting fed every day twice a day and that is far more than they have gotten before. Deep breath. Mucking stalls proved to be more of a physical challenge than I had anticipated but true to form I couldn't simply leave it at 'good enough'. Before I set about the task I stalled Gail's mare that always has free access to the turn out and opened the gates on the boy's stalls. They seemed reluctant to venture out...
Curiosity eventually got the best of the Bright Bay...
and soon enough he was off exploring.
I keep calling him the Bright Bay (for now,) because his personality is bright and strong and adventurous. This one has a very strong spirit and seems always to be looking towards the horizon. The fly masks that I brought into the stalls were quickly met with loud snorts and the dust of heels as they spun to avoid these strange bits of fabric. They were terrified of them. I hang the masks on the stall rails with the knowledge that the first order of business is to give the boys some freedom, some exercise if they will have it, to clean the stalls and observe who they are. The fly masks were fastened to the stall rails so they could be safely investigated without the pressure of human hands.
The Bright is a very pretty boy with all of that chrome and that beautiful, thick, flowing mop of a mane. Soon enough, he was tearing up the turn-out while stretching those long legs and giving it all he had. I watched his grace and beauty as he moved. What a lovely canter! This particular turn-out is rather bowl-shaped and he ran as sure footed as only a Mustang can at sometimes heart-stopping speeds. He is beautiful and my heart wells with emotion as I watch him. There is something so magical about a Mustang. Riders passing on the ridge above stop to observe him for a long while. The Bright has an under-bite and I worry how that will affect his training and adoption.
The Sorrel hung back with me. He sniffed and investigated in a quiet unobtrusive way, not wanting to push too far but quietly curious. He has a solemn quality about him that is very touching. If you put these two boys next to each other and I picked on looks, it would be the Bright Bay that would catch my eye. But this Sorrel, this plain red horse touches a part of me that runs very deep. his mane is frazzled and worn out from reaching to find any speck of food. When he does finally venture of of his stall it is not to go romp wildly with The Bright but to wander in his brother's stalll and look for scraps of hay. My mouth pinches downward in sadness and I am touched by the pain he has suffered at the hands of others. He returns to me again. Is he being friendly or simply waiting for some tidbit?
There is something about him.
Is there the same reflection of sorrow in his eyes that I see in Cayenne's? He is far quieter in his head then she... no... there is something else about him... He stays near to me most of the time I am working on the stalls. I muck and then I get my landscape rake and move dirt around, raking, raking and raking to make a nice smooth stall. I know this is a temporary place but I will make it as nice as I can for them while they are here. Soulful eyes watch my every move.
Eventually, The Sorrel wanders out to investigate the turn-out. The Bright tries to encourage him to play. He spins and broncs and bites him on the neck. The bright exhibits beautiful behaviors seen in wild bachelor bands. I smile at The Bright as he rears on his hind legs and bites the Sorrel on the top of his neck. The Sorrel turns away. It is only when The Bright runs off that The Sorrel obliges him in an game of chase for a little while. It is not long, however, before The Sorrel is behind me once again.
What is it about this boy? After I finish cleaning I halter the boys. I do not try to catch the Mustangs because I know it is better to let the Mustangs catch me. They do not shy away from the halter and stand quietly while I slide the lead rope around their necks and glide the rope halter over their noses. They hold their heads high as I halter them but we will work on that. After they are haltered I take the fly masks from the rail and play with the velcro. They jump about at the end of the lead and I let them move their feet. There is always a way out. It is by giving them that open door that I will gain their trust. Soon enough they settle down and I am able to rub the fly masks on them and very soon they are wearing them.
Their feet show signs of long neglect and I suspect that the Sorrel is in pain. I imagine he feels like Princess Buttercup did when she was first liberated even though his feet do not look as misshapen as hers did on her arrival. The Sorrel allows me to pick his fronts up though he tries to paw the air. When he is quiet I put his foot down and give him a peppermint. I play this game with him with first one front foot and then the other until my peppermint pocket is empty. He seems sad when I close the stall door behind me and observes me intently as I go to The Bright. The Bright was having none of this foot handling nonsense. I am tired and have not been well so I leave this battle on a good note and a peppermint and know that I will return later with a tie blocker and an assistant and I will work with him again. The Bright is as I suspected, a total punk-muffin but I love that spirit about him. We will simply have to channel it! I suspect that if he ever met Smrp's little Snapdragon that they would be fast friends =)
Before I leave I feed them carrots and give them a flake of hay. If only I could have them at my place to watch over and protect them... I know they are in good hands and soon they will be with Shana to start training. I have special plans for these two that involves the National Wild Horse and Burro Exposition and Show at the end of October. I am daring to dream big...
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