Sweet Paprika
You’d think a horse that was scared out of his wits by people, would likely be a bit leery and difficult to work with, but not Paprika. It was as if being bear hugged into submission, made him rethink life and what he expected of it. Maybe he thought he’d been permanently bested, so there was no point in fighting. Whatever the reason, after that day, he was willing to learn and do pretty well anything we asked. He also had a huge fascination with hubby. Paprika was my horse, yet if hubby was around, as he often was; it was hubby, Paprika wanted to go to. We even did the ‘test’. Hubby and I stood the same distance away from the young stallion then called to him. Without fail, he always went to hubby, which irked me to no end. It just wasn’t fair. Paprika was my horse. I was the one he should want to come to, not hubby. I worked with him, fed him, brushed him, yet he still wanted to be with hubby. There was probably something about that day in the box stall that Paprika appreciated, more than we humans did. Hubby had become all important to the young horse. I suppose, hubby was the dominant leader in Paprika’s mind.
Because we weren’t ready to have a stallion at home, we’d taken him straight to a boarding stable with a big arena to work him in. We needed time to build a proper pen to keep safely in, and the arena came in handy, too. I could do work and training without worrying about weather or footing. I spent as much time working with Paprika as was possible. Incredibly smart, he was a joy to teach. To have such an eager student is always a wonderful thing. When that student is a stallion, yet still sweet and willing, it’s even better. Not once, did he threaten to act out in any way, no kicking. No biting. No threatening or bad behaviour, of any kind. What he did do was act like a curious puppy. That horse put everything in his mouth. He would happily lead himself, much like a Labrador retriever will. He loved car keys and pocket flaps. Zippers were also of extreme interest. I suppose, Paprika would’ve been a great trick horse. Maybe I should’ve worked on that more, instead of making plans for him to be a breeding stallion.
It turned out that he was as good as sterile. He only sired two fillies, one purebred and one part-bred. When he’d gotten loose, prior to me owning him, he’d bred one mare and been kicked. That kick had created an injury that hadn’t been treated and scar tissue ruined him. There was no point in pursuing something that wasn’t possible. Paprika was gelded, his training continued until he was reliable and bombproof, then he was sold to a young, teen girl. She became his person, he her perfect mount. They shared many, wonderful years together and she kept him for the rest of his life. When selling a horse, there’s little more than one can hope for, than a forever home.
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