Sunday I had some leaf-raking to do at home, but I scrambled over to the farm anyway. Those leaves could wait. At Bill's the sky started to look a little menacing. And the wind was blowing. I carried on with horse plans anyway. The riding academy was slim: Jackie was not around, Christine was writing a paper for class, and Bill was stacking firewood with his son Andy. Looked like I was on my own.
Oh my goodness, that's not a painted brumby! I had every intention of taking Lilly out on the trail. But when I got there and saw Bella, I really wanted to get on her. Bella is the only one of Bill's horses that appeals to me in this way. Like I cannot resist her. So here I am on her in the ring. Because Bella is so short, I get this [totally erroneous] idea that I have more control of her than I do of Lilly. I realize this could not be more wrong. Her neck alone is the size of an oak tree. But I love her lively little trot. When I got on Bella, she kept flinging her head around. She went trucking right out a gate when I didn't ask her too. Her head set was terrible. Uh-oh!
Bill has always said that he likes to watch people ride horses. So even as he was stacking firewood, perhaps he was watching me in the ring. It was not long before I saw him coming down to get a closer look. I wish I could tell you I had Bella looking very pretty and in order by the time he sat down in the spectator chair. Not! We were speedily trotting hither and yon all messy-like. Quite fun, but very messy. I know you can imagine what happened next. Yes, you got it. Bill got involved!! I love how Bill never says: GET OFF THAT DAMN HORSE AND LET ME DO IT. This is what he says: Let me get on her and try something. So Bill got on Bella in my saddle with the short stirrups and worked with her for maybe 15 minutes. He got her softer on the bit, and started showing her how to keep her front feet still while moving her hind end, and vice versa. I made a short clip of some of it : You can see it by clicking here.
Here's what I love about Bella: she wants to please. She is a fun companion. She may get feisty and fling her head around, but she is still young and doesn't have miles under the saddle like some of the other horses. She doesn't get angry. In fact, she seems to like hanging out with people, no matter what she is doing with them.
I just love her. I love that she is the color of honey, and her giant mane and her blonde eyelashes can charm the socks off a rooster. I love her personality and her quick, little steps. I love her neat little ears and her haflinger smile. On the trail, she will carry you anywhere. She is the cutest little tank you will ever meet.
Earlier in the week, this guy was hanging around the pasture.
1 comment:
I am pretty darn sure that roosters do not wear socks.
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