Horse Tails;
Since I got ahead of myself and told the story of Charco, I thought I would tell everyone about the 2 that came before.
My first Morgan stallion was Greenmist Paprika. A friend had asked if I would go along to see a Morgan that was for sale. Umm, yes! My husband made me promise that we were looking for her. I wasn’t horse shopping. Under protest and duress, I agreed. We went along to see this young stallion. He was so wild, he quite literally tried to climb the far wall of his stall to get away from us. My friend was horrified. I was entranced. True to my promise, I didn’t make any attempt to purchse him. A week later, my husband and I were driving down the highway adjacent to the farm, and he said, “if you want him, you can have him for your birthday.”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I simply grinned from ear to ear and nodded. The first day, we went with a halter and lead. As I was expecting our first child, he had to do all the work, under my many suggestions, of course. After a couple of hours of futile attempts to do more than give him a scratch, my husband found himself suddenly, unexpectedly right beside Paprika. He simply put his arms around the horse’s neck, and away they went! Round and round like a whirling dervish, until they stopped as suddenly as they’d started.
Poor Paprika, he was exhausted, overwhelmed, completely confused.
“Get the halter on him,” my husband gasped as he caught his breath.
Too late. Off they went again. When next they stopped, Paprika wasn’t up to any sort of protest, and I got the halter on. It was only because Paprika had lived most of his life in a box stall, that my husband was able to manhandle Paprika into submission. A week later, he passively walked up the long aisle of the barn and straight into the trailer. From that point forward, he simply learned. That horse was like a sponge. He never forgot anything he was taught. He never bucked, and he never showed even the slightest aggression. Sadly, he had gotten loose previous to us purchasing him, and had been seriously kicked. Despite getting that mare in foal, he’d been left seriously scarred and impotent. I had him gelded and he went on to give his teenage owner years of joy. And yes, I bought his daughter, who became one of my foundation mares. The best part of this story? Whenever my husband complains about ‘too many’ horses, I can turn it back on him. After all, he bought me my first Morgan! Lol
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