Thursday, January 27, 2011

Eff You, Blogger, But Thanks Anyway

Blogger ate the final paragraph of my last post, about three sentences' worth. Because fever also bends the mind, I don't remember the words precisely as I wrote them. I'll just try to assume for now that they were smart, incisive and confidence-building. Why not.

But I do read what I write, and, looking at that post today, I mined from it these two things:

   1 - All the other horses were outside and she was ticked off. 
   2 - Scout mindful that all the other horses were inside. 

The one was the catalyst of her blow-up, the other the keeper of her calm. And this started me wondering: If Scout got everything she wanted, would I be able to ride her no-drama confidently? What would that be like; I mean, what parameters would Scout set? Well, I'm just fever-warped enough to try thinking about it from her point of view...

Hi, Scout. Hey, pony. Let's go riding tonight.

I am busy happy being with the horses right now, thanks.

Come on. Just a short ride, nothing fancy (like we ever do fancy.)

Don't want to, but it's not like I hate you or anything. I love you, bringer of carrots. Say, could you pull those bits of ice off my whiskers?

We could both use the exercise, you know. 

Yes, you could. I see that. Well, you can ride me right here in the dry lot, then. It will be nice to walk along the fence. You can have your "ride" and I can monitor my herd. 

In here? I thought we'd ride to the south pasture, just over there.

Why would we you do that? I can't see the herd from there. I'll jig, you know, and scream out. I'll go spooky on your ass. I'll have to rush and brace. Here is best. We can even trot a little, k? I do like that bendy-stretchy thing you do. My neck gets heavy reaching down to eat all day.


So I'll keep noshing hay while you get the grooming box and the saddle and bridle. I love that grooming, by the way. K, an hour for grooming, 10 minutes tack up, and then food time at six means hey, we've got, like, eight minutes. Yay! Let's go riding! I'm so glad you asked.

( . . . )

( . . . )

And I'll go take my temperature now.


Carol said...

Ha ha - sounds about right. This post made me laugh. It sure feels like they think that way some days.
Hope you're feeling better soon.

June said...

Yup, that sounds right!

The horse I used to ride, Gus, would allow me a few minutes now and then. If I insisted on more, he'd be real gentlemanly about it, but I'd better be super-polite in return. He got used to me, and then someone else took him out and got dumped in short order.

Maybe if you let her set the parameters, she'd end up giving you more in the end. Maybe it would only be 8 minutes at first but would grow. I think so.

Our TB mare, Rose, one of the first times we took her on the trail, we let her turn around as soon as she wanted. Next time we took her out, she had the confidence to go much further, knowing that she had the freedom to turn back if she felt she had to, I guess.

June said...

Or you could just go for a leadrope stroll in the south pasture together. That way you'd be confronting her fear without having to confront yours as well.