The title of this post seems to sum up my new kid's take on life in general.
So now begins the search for tack that fits my new mountain, er, horse. My sister called him a mountain when she met him, and a few moments after meeting him, she asked about another horse at the barn. I replied, "oh, her? She's a Quarter Horse." She burst out laughing and said, "Yeah, Quarter Horse all right, exactly one quarter of YOUR horse!"
sigh.
Since I lack tack, I've been working with him on the ground, which, according to a few horse people, is a good way to start off a good relationship with your horse. I mean, I wouldn't want to get on him without knowing him a little better, and I'm sure he doesn't want some random stranger on top of him either. So I've been going out to the stable every day (ok, I skipped tonight) and haltering him, walking him around, and doing basic things- like asking him to back up, stand still, yield hindquarters, and I've been picking his feet up, brushing him, touching him all over, and just talking to him.
He hasn't destroyed too much at the barn either...he bent a fence panel with his butt, but otherwise seems pretty settled. The farrier comes on Thursday to trim his insanely overgrown feet, so I'm excited for that.
And there have been NO purchases of hoof glitter whatsoever yet. Yet.
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