Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Rescuing The Rescue

He doesn’t have a name yet. I have no idea how old he is. Not sure of his breed, either. My farrier thinks he’s a racking horse, claims he watched him rack across my pasture. 

He has long legs, and a long forelock that hangs in his eyes and makes him look like a wild stallion. He’s a gelding, though. He is still shedding his winter coat, or else he has Cushing’s Disease. Cant get close enough to tell.

He’s very skittish, distrustful to say the least. Somewhere in his past, a human must have caused him pain. He accepts the food I give him, but won’t let me touch him.

He was one of three horses and three miniature donkeys that a neighbor rescued a couple of  years ago. Two of the donkeys were pregnant. Now there are five. The mare died. My registered TWH mare, Mallory, is carrying the stud’s foal. Big Red, the neighbor called him. He’s gone, though. The neighbor got rid of him. He wants some cows.

I borrowed the gelding, with my neighbor’s blessing, to keep Mallory company. When I asked the neighbor about shots, he said the only thing he had done was to worm him. How do you worm a horse you can’t catch? My vet said not to worry, because my mare is up-to-date on her shots. Meanwhile, the gelding’s feet are in bad need of trimming. His hip bones are too prominent. 

So when my neighbor offered to gift him, I accepted.

I’m trying to win his trust. It will take time. Time spent feeding him, talking to him. Time just sitting in the pasture watching him graze as he watches me sit. 

I’m not normally a patient person, but I see something in his eyes that makes me want to be. 

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