Tuesday, December 1, 2015

From The Beginning


I used to have a black dog. He was nearly impossible to photograph, even in the snow. He always looked like a big black blob. Now we have two black horses. We can't see them in the dark. He has a star and a big snip, so he looks like he has a black mask on.

It has been raining since Saturday night, supposed to clear out on Wednesday evening. Everything is sopping wet. The barn doors have soaked up the rain, the aisle is wet a couple feet into the barn. And all the horses are dirty, muddy.

We persuaded the Blacks into Skip and/or KC's stall with a flake of hay and sweet feed. It's almost like having wild animals, like deer, and you're trying to not scare them away. But you do. Just turning around sends them skittering. Baby steps.

They are afraid of the feed bucket. She's so busy hiding behind him, and she's a little shorter, that she can't see he is hogging all of the sweet feed or that there is hay on the floor. She runs out and he follows, they come back, he pushes her out, she circles around and comes into the other stall. He follows her, she spooks and they both bolt out the door at the same time. They come back, then leave. Around and around, until the hay and grain is finished.

As if they are off-the-range wild Mustangs, we have our work cut out for us. We still can't get the rope halter off his head. One. Day. At. A. Time.

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