Horse Tails
As I’d gelded my stallion, Greenmist Paprika, I was on the hunt for another. Jim’s Andy was my second Morgan stallion. I had seen him at the Brandon Winter Fair, up here in Manitoba, at the Parade of Stallions which showcased different breeds. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to call, I soon found that they would indeed, consider selling him.
I made the long drive to see him, sans horse trailer, as I wanted to really have a good think on it. The past had taught me not to want things too badly, as that usually didn’t work out well.
They brought him out for me to look over, and he was as pretty and sweet as I’d remembered, and just as quiet and well-behaved, too. He was saddled and bridled. What wonderfully impressive manners he had. He was ridden around a bit, untacked, then I headed home again.
After having a good ponder over my potential purchase, I decided he was a good fit. I made arrangements to meet them in Brandon, which was pretty well halfway for both of us. It was cold out, so despite the suggestion it was a waste of time, he would only take them off, I bundled him up for the long ride home. Now, I think it’s important to mention here, that the trailer was a typical 2-horse with manger. Enough room for a horse on each side, and not much else. Off we went. A few miles along, tbe trailer started hopping off the highway! What in the world? I pulled over and waited for it to stop. An old horseman once told me that the most dangerous thing you could do was open a trailer at this point, so I worriedly waited. After a few of the longest minutes of my life, I opened the escape door and took a wary peek inside. Now, picture the inside of a trailer again. Horse, manger, no extra room, and the horse is tied, too. He’d taken off the blanket! His back hooves were standing in a circle of winter blanket, and he’d managed to rid himself of 3 of the offending shipping boots! If ever there was a pleased, ever so smug expression on a borse’s face, it was right then. With a good deal of amused grumbling, I removed the hated items from his presence, and we carried on to home.
After giving him a couple of days off to settle in, I decided it was time to take my new, weĺl-mannered stallion for a bit of a ride. Hmmm, he certainly didn’t want to quietly stand, and was positively miserable to tack up. I had to get my husband to come and hold him, he was misbehaving that badly. When it came time to mount up, he wouldn’t stand for love nor money. He was practically galloping in tight circles around me! Still, I was determined. After all, this was still the same horse I’d seen that had the excellent manners. Any second now, he’d surely smarten up, wouldn’t he? My husband finally pinned Andy against the barn, I climbed aboard and thought with my infinite wisdom, that was that. He would settle down. Not so. My husband, who is not a little guy, simply couldn’t hold him! Away Andy and I went … blasting up the driveway and down our thankfully quiet road, bucking like a bronc all the way! After a good half mile of this nonsense, I managed to get him turned around and headed back towards home. We went home almost as fast as we’d left, but with half the bucking, thank goodness. My husband was still standing there, and caught us as we were about to blaze right on by! I leapt off like a gymnast, (which I’m far from), and took in tbe sight of my new stallion. Clearly, I’d been duped, and not just by imaginary training. I soon realized he also had a bit of a parrot mouth. I remembered how my view was blocked when he was being bridled, and knew I’d been bitten by my old enemy, wanting something too much.
Andy was gelded, as parrot mouth can be hereditary and I’m not an irresponsible breeder. I worked with him until he became the sweet, incredibly trustworthy horse I’d presumed him to be, and he found a new home in ThunderBay, Ontario, where he was adored and enjoyed. Yes, he took off his ‘clothes’ on the way there, too.
Charco joined us, but I was still on the lookout for a quality stallion to breed with his daughters, so Careys Wind N Storm joined us. Sadly, he couldn’t stay, as this wasn’t the right space for him. He’d lived his whole life like a wild horse out in a huge field. He was incredibly gentle, but wasn’t even halter broke! You could do almost anything with him, because he was simply obliging. He would gallop over and swing his great rump at you, because he loved to have his tail scratched. He managed to turn his round bale feeder on it’s end and was stuck between the spokes, then simply stood there while he was cut out of it. He was so unhappy and depressed here, that he had to go back home. He was actually doing himself physical harm. I sort-of traded him for a yearling son of his. Sort of, as I had to pay a good chunk of change on top, woeful sigh. Thankfully, this youngster worked out and we had him the rest of his life, but that’s another story
Gorgeous horse.