Wednesday, April 23, 2008


Yes I spoil my animals, to the point where you can smell them miles away. Always making new fluffier dog beds, trying a new dog food, new recipe for dog treats and then there's the horses. We have just a small group. Small in numbers, 6 to be exact, but size, ain't small at all. David lays claim to the elephants, ie, the clydesdales. 2 of them, mother and daughter. Fun animals and very unique personalities. Then there's the joint custody on the buckskin girls-again, a mother/daughter duo of buckskin paints. Mooch is what Dad nicknamed them, Witch is one of the words I use for the mother-she has a mind of her own. The daughter is a sweetie. Last but no least are the boys-Torey and Moo.

Torey is a 1000 lb golden retriever. I didn't believe in reincarnation until I met this horse. Constantly happy, always carrying around something in his mouth and into everything. Nice horse to ride but he druels on me one more time after getting a drink from the tank and he may have to go.

Last but not least at all is Mooman. He's my baby. Raised him from birth. Turned from a wild man with no manners to the perfect babysitter. Last year for instance, I watched Meredith attempt to get on him. What a production. He was wearing just his halter and lead rope. Eating grass and minding his own business. So she ties the end of the lead rope to his halter to make reins. Then brings over the plastic lawn chair and wedges it under his belly(he's not small at all, 16 hands of quarter horse racing lines). Climbs on the chair and still can't jump on him. Horse totally ignores what's going on under him. She steps back, hands on hips and surveys the surroundings for a better "ladder". Already tried pulling him over to the hayrack to get on and he wouldn't have any of it. Meredith spies the bucket. You guessed it. Stacks the bucket on top of the chair, then moves it back, wedging under Moo's belly. A balancing act of circus quality, she climbs on the chair, on to the arms of the chair, finally on top of the bucket. Perfect height and up she goes. Of course, his head is down, rope is almost at his ears and in the attempt to get the rope, she about falls over his head. But got it and a swift kick in the ribs, off they go to graze in the hay field.

Poor ol'Mooman. He's almost 30, had a few injuries that prevent him from being any more then a lawn ornament now. He gets the free run of the front yard at night, dogs for the most part ignore him. Alec hates me leaving him loose-those two butt heads about going back in the pasture. Something about having to push a 1000 lb horse through a gate just doesn't sit with Alec well. But Moo's always waiting at the gate, ready to come out. No halter, no lead, he's free to go where ever on the property but chooses to stay close to home. Ah to have another one like him.

Later gators.....

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