An Unlikely Pairing
Following on from last post [getting a wild chestnut stallion into an enclosure... (Code: TSM = The Sheep Man].
Watching from a place where no unintended shift of movement might distract ‘the group’ curiosity turned to awe as TSM and his reluctant assistant took opposite ends of a long length of rope.
In the silence that only comes from a mix of total focus and the rare teamwork where one senses the others’ thoughts, Hurricane found himself cornered neatly in the precisely the place he didn’t want to be.
‘There. That what you wanted?’
Job done, without time for coffee or to receive more than a nod of thanks, TSM and his assistant were gone.
The new farrier turned out to be a red-head.
Rarely having to work with an unsecured horse – I never succeed in getting a leading rein near him – the farrier approached Hurricane gingerly (pun intended).
But I could offer him a little comfort – not that it transpired he needed it…
For about fifteen to twenty minutes a day for four or five months, whenever I was at home in my ‘writer’s retreat’, I had been with Hurricane.
That’s it. That’s all. Not doing anything but being with him.
Instinctively the only ‘doing’ was mirroring whatever he’d been doing. I even pretended to munch on grass, shifting when he appeared to move for no obvious reason and – most of all – echoing his snickering. Learning to snicker in as close a tone as I could to his, he seemed to reply.
And ever-so-slowly Hurricane deemed me to be O.K. Not much more, but it was a start.
And before either of us could think about it, I was stroking his flank. Then, one day, running my hand towards his fetlock, he did something unasked. He lifted his hoof.
I quietly wept for joy and dared to purchase a hoof-pick.
He trusted me enough to both groom and pick his hooves, so long as I got no where near his head or try to hold him.
Hurricane guarded his freedom some part of me envied. Perhaps it was feeling chained by long distance relating with my Fiancé? Or a prospective marriage I was not entirely sure I was cut out for? Or fulfilling growing duties for beginning-to-age parents? Or may be it was just the economic and societal cage of securing a firm financial footing for myself, the bitter reality of that arriving through writing still unpalatable? Today I suspect it was a mixture of them all…
No matter. Let’s hoof it back to the two ‘gingers’ in the Heras fenced enclosure.
The farrier found he had a soft spot for his four-legged twin. Hurricane was impeccable in allowing his new friend to tend to his feet.
He did what work he could and we watched Hurricane storm back to the far end of the field.
‘I’ll need to come back in six weeks.’ My beloved’s hooves needed considerable further attention.
Shit. I would have to prevail upon TSM again.
I didn’t reckon on being more than spectator. But when the motor drew up into The Yard, the passenger seat was empty…
#horse #farrier #skills #gingers