TOABH: Making of the Horse

Since I started this blog at the beginning of the year, I ended up missing several of Beka's blog hops. I'm going to go back through and post the rest of them over the next few weeks. They're a lot of fun and make me think about some things I probably wouldn't have thought of before.

From The Owls Approve

Making of the Horse

Last week, we talked about our babies.  This week, let's talk about our greenies.  Who trained your horse?  Is your ponykins still in the process of figuring out this whole monkey-on-my-back thing, did you send off for thirty or sixty or ninety days, or did you buy a horse with all the bells and whistles?  Who has helped your horse become what he or she is today?

Simply put, I don't know. Max had several owners before me.  He seems to know quite a bit, but was rusty on everything when I got him. Plus, he has the intelligence that is characteristic of the breed.  So he can really take advantage of the person if they let him.

Intelligence + stubbornness + a bottomless pit of a stomach

I'm Spoiled

This post was inspired by Lauren over at She Moved to Texas. Specifically, this post.

I have read many posts about horse owners who have trouble catching their horses in the pasture.  Max does spoil me in this regard. The worst he will do is pretend to ignore you and keep grazing while you walk up to him.  I've never seen him walk or run away from me. Quite the opposite actually.   If I'm doing something in the paddock, he will come over to supervise.  Picking up poop?  Multiple checks of the wheel barrel to see if I put anything good in.  Installing something new (most recently the hay hoop)?  Watches closely to make sure it's hanging straight.  Installing a new fence board?  Checking to make sure you don't drop any screws.

Last fall I was hauling some dirt around the pasture to fill in fence posts while he was out grazing.  He wasn't fazed at all by me coming somewhat close to him at a good clip.  God forbid I should dare put his grain in his bucket while he's still grazing. That results in some calling, and plowing through my wimpy electric line that normally contains him.

Nope.  Getting a hold of my pony is not an issue.  And I'm grateful.

Max: "I love you! Now feed me!" Cindy: "I might let you pet me if you give me grain...but probably not"

However Cinderella, the llama, is another story.

TOABH: Worth 1K Words

This is a fun blog hop from The Owls Approve.

Worth 1k Words.

Let's share our favorite photos of our stud muffins.  No limit.

 

 

Max with his ex-girlfriend, Fancy, trying so hard to get that bit of grass.  This was when I was boarding him.

Our one and only trail ride since having him.  We went through the covered bridge with very little fuss.

Princess Cinderella the Llama and Princess Prissyfeet, the Brat About Mud.

Give me my food woman!!

Someone pissed the llama off.

Plotting the farrier's demise.

Seriously, he was horrible for her for this trim.  Little brat.