I’ve had all four horses out this morning for a play. Abe walked up a line of 6 hula hoops, stopping with his fore hooves neatly in each one on request, standing a minute and then moving on to the next, walked over the tarp at the top of the drive and back down another line of 6 hoops doing the same on the other rein, then he did some good standing by the mounting block for me. Dancer came right round the barn, out of sight of her mum, and looked at the tarp, then Poppy whinnied and we went back. Poppy came out without Dancer and came across to a circle of cones, where she poked one of the cones to check it wasn’t a goblin in disguise! She also boggled at the hens for a bit, then got over that and decided they weren’t horse-eating eagles. Although she’s the oldest, in some ways she’s also the greenest of the horses!
George was great, allowing me to manoeuvre him out through the gate, walked past the hens with a pause to drink some water from the trough by their run, then we did some cone-work and up the hoops to the tarp and back. He’s not so good at stopping neatly in the hoops – possibly because he hasn’t noticed they’re there! He’s a bit distracted by the grass and clover. I walked him back to the gate and he decided to use Poppy as an excuse and wouldn’t go back! I made use of him skipping past the gate and lined him up at the mounting block instead, where he let me walk up and down it without reaction, then we circled around for more grass, had another evasion at the gate and finally got it on the third try.
Not that it was all plain sailing even then! George turned so smartly as he went through the gate with me that we came out together again, too! On attempt 4 I managed to get him through the gate while I walked along the outside of the fence, then Abe tried to come out for a second go and I barely got the gate shut ahead of him!
It’s nice that they’re so eager to play games with me, but-!
I think there’s no doubt now that Abe is ready to back tomorrow, if Lynn can come over to help steady him. It’s quite a big step for a horse to find a human on his back instead of standing next to him, no matter how often I drape myself across him, and having a steady, reliable hand on his head will be invaluable.
I’ve managed to confirm George’s grand-sire’s breeder via Facebook – she asked for a photo and says he’s very like Charlie, his grand-dad. I know there’s only a few hundred Suffolks in the country, but what are the odds on George coming to live only a few dozen miles from where his grandfather was born, at the far end of the country from the overwhelming majority of the breed?
Cairnorchies Chronicles 