CockadoodleMoo.org

Dianne:

When I was a little girl, we did not have horses. Dogs, cats, and reptiles and fish were more than enough for my parents. My dad, who was raised on a farm, had no desire to raise "livestock", but we did live in rural Nevada so our neighbors had horses. One neighbor had cows and goats also but this entry is about the horses. The one warning I always heard and respected was "watch out for the rear". I had seen horses kick fences, dogs, barrels etc. and the rear end could be lethal, so I developed a strong fear of the rear.

Up to now I had not realized that the animals understood my "fear" until yesterday. Now, like most days, Tolstoy had pooped in the feeding stall, and my new rule is that poop is cleaned before they are fed. This makes them mad but the amount of flies that are drawn to the feeding stall is out of control, and I would like him to stop pooping there.

After I cleaned the stall I started scooping a pile up from the yard, Willow who was standing behind me reached out and nipped my arm. I turned, took her face in my hands and, looking into her eyes, explained this was not OK. I turned back to the job and she head-butted me; I went reeling toward the fence and the poop pile but caught myself. Tolstoy is a master of the head butt so I did what I do to him — I backed into her until she backed off. I started to scoop again and this time she spun around and showed me her rear and backed toward the pile.

That is when I knew that she understood my fear of the rear. I had to laugh. What a smart smart girl — she had noticed that I move away when given the rear. I walked away from this area and started scooping a few feet away. When she walked toward me, I went back and finished the pile.

Now I will have to conquer my fear of the rear.

Willow and Tolstoy vie for attention on a warm August day

Willow follows me thru the corral.