A homegrown heart is one that longs to sleep with the windows open. One that longs to smell the fresh cut fields, Ride in the afternoon - bareback, and barfoot. A homegrown heart likes to turn the music up, grow something, talk to God and wear boots, because they are better. These hearts go fishing, play with dogs and play with horses. Homegrown hearts give it their all, everytime. They are true to themselves, and true to those around them. They have deep roots. But more important, a homegrown heart LOVES WITH ALL ITS STRENGTH.








Thursday, April 14, 2011

A dominance thing...

So, there I was walking out to the paddock, having fed and watered the other horses, getting ready to wrap it up and go shower for work... when WHAM!
The Thethoroughbred sprinted at me, no her CHARGED at me, head flying, mud splattering, hair in all directions, coming straight at me.  So I dropped the bucket, stood up as tall as I could, flung the lead rope around in the air and screamed at him.  He dugg in, slid up to me, threw his head, bobbed his body and snorted.  I kicked at him, jumped up and down, yelled...
So he spun and kicked back.  So I ran towards him yelling, throwing the rope at him, pushing him away.  So he turned and reared up at me.

Ok, let me put this in perspective.  He is 17 hands, at the whithers.  At the head, when he is excited, he is prbably easily 2 feet taller still.  When he REARS... good gravey he is a monster!  I was looking up at him, his hooves pawing the air, I could see the veins popping in his arm pits.  So what do I do?  I scream, "Im not afraid of you, you bully!" And I take the lead rope and whack him on the belly.

He flew off the handle.  He slammed down to the mud, charged again, caught me off guard and I had to step backwards... I stepped but my boot didnt, so I was knee deep in crap and mud.  So I grabbed the bucket and threw it at him, forgot the boot and screamed at him flinging the lead rope, kicking, flailing anything I could do.  So he took off running... straight for the gate.

I forgot to mention that my dog was waiting paiteintly for me at the gate, and when he saw that monstor of a horse coming at him, he tried to high tail it out of there.  So I yelled at him, "Ivan, stay.  Flush 'em out!"  So Ivan crouched down and started to growl, which put the breaks on the dumb horse. 

Finally, the horse realized I was the boss, and I wasn't going to back down, so he stopped running, stopped charging, and just stood there.  For good measure, I ran at him and chased him to the other end of the paddock.  When he was all calm, I let him come to me, and that was that. 

I win, you big jerk.
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