Mag vs the Leitstute

Mag's halter had a chunk of his mane/forelock hair stuck to it and he has a new cut on his face and two on his pasterns. Imagine how beat up he'd be if he lived with other horses. I wish I knew what happened to his face/mane, but I know the pastern cuts are from him rushing in and out of his stall and banging against the door jamb.

When I first saw him I whistled and he nickered, "Bucket/Trailer!" and he ate his entire bucket in the trailer completely relaxed, so I worked on leaving the trailer. He hates that but is slowly getting better at it.

Then I put on the surcingle and rump rug because it's been a while since he's worn that terrifying thing. But the arena was full, at least, someone else was lunging a mare and Nina was riding the Leitstute (lead mare) and I knew it would be good for Mag to just hang out in the audience section, watching these horses he'd never seen working before.

I know he knows that black one is the Leitstute because every single time she passed by,  he'd throw his head up stiff bodied and huge eyed, "Mom, she's gonna kill me!" Every single time. And he was telling the truth, she was glaring at him intensely with every lap with burning red eyes and invisible ears, "I hate young whippersnappers and you are clearly one of them! Don't you dare move!" Mag stood like a statue but wanted to crawl into my lap. I praised him and laughed because the other mare never got a big reaction from him, she's not the Dowager Countess of Wuppertal.

Indeed, as I would spend time observing the paddocks over the last 6 weeks, I've only seen true scuffles arise based on this black mare. She expends a tremendous amount of energy chasing other horses away from hay. It's really interesting to me because she spends more than she gains. She's a Peruvian Paso and I would love to ride her gaits. 

Then Mag's tail got caught on one of the posts separating the arena from the spectator area and he pulled the whole thing down, including all the crap that was hanging from that post. Junk scattered everywhere and the Leitstute spooked as she witnessed it directly in front of her. Mag held it together and I calmly picked everything back up.

Then Mag got bored and started putting everything in his mouth - the wall, the post, he took my whip from my hand, he picked up a poop scooper and moved it and then dropped it somewhere else, he tried to go through Nina's purse, he tried to join me on the bench, and I just giggled at him and let him do whatever he wanted cuz he was so freaking adorable, his big black eyes blinking at me, "Whatcha doin?"

Then Nina came by and handed me her jacket from the back of the Leitstute. I knew that would be the scariest thing of the day for Mag and I was right. As soon as I took it he backed up, "CERTAIN DEATH!" and I approached him with it until he sniffed it. Someday he really has to get over his problem with coats. He's fine with tarps!

Then two more people wanted to ride in the arena. I told them I was waiting in line and they said, "We're riding, not doing ground work, so we have priority." Hm! I still don't know all the rules but I'm learning. Then it was really exciting! Lots of horses doing dressage and pleasant conversation between the riders.

Finally Nina and her friend left, so I entered thinking if I don't go now, someone else will show up and I'll never get a chance to be in there with them. I was a popsicle by that time. I looked up and saw it was snowing.

I did some lunging and walk trot transitions, and a couple canters on a tiny circle, trying to not get in anyone's way. Then Mag got to just walk because we were there for the exposure and nothing else. Every time the PRE trotted by Mag got pissy in the ears, but the big orange horse never bothered Mag. I really wonder if it's social ranking, Mag defending himself from the horse he feels threatened by? Or vice versa?

Then another lady arrived on her Appy and that's very exciting, Mag doesn't know him either. Finally we just stood there where we weren't in the way, but not in the exact middle cuz I wanted him to have horses passing behind him.

I felt it was a day of relationship deepening with my horse, as he amused me and impressed me in a new situation.

S sent me an email today, "Don't be so strict with Mag, have fun." (How many times have I heard someone tell me I'm too strict, since moving to Germany?")

She continued, "He kept looking after you as you left to get your saddle. He's connected with you."

Well I hope so cuz I spent the last year doing nothing other than relationship building cuz the trainers I had quit on me.

I don't think he loves me. I think, he only feels at ease with me because I've proven myself to be predictable.

But I did feel a maternal bond today as the bitch threatened him at every pass, and Mag looked to me to save him.

I gave him a lot, a lot of treats in the arena to show him that being calm is the only thing he should do today, with horses cantering directly by him.

He looked to me for guidance and amusement, both.

In the stall I brought the rest of his beet pulp bucket and Mag got his ears nasty as I approached and I said, "That will never get you fed. Step BACK and be nice if you want a bucket in your stall."

Klaus was there filling Mia's bucket and said, "You speak English to your horse!" I said, "It would be awkward for me to speak in a second language to an animal."

He said, "It depend upon which country the animal is from!"

I said, "Poland." Then I wondered if he thinks that our animals actually understand our speech, or any human language.

I think when we speak to them, it's mostly for our benefit. They understand certain words and certain sounds, but an entire sentence? I told him my horse is from Poland. I doubt my horse differentiates Polish from German. I know my horse doesn't care what language I verbally speak to him. When we talk to horses, it's for us.

Certain sounds (clucks, whistles, kisses) take on meaning in the flood of garbage that comes out of our mouths.


This next image is what my sister posted on Facebook at Christmas time this year. It is my husband and Baasha, on our way to a Christmas party at the local Party Ponies, before they moved out of our neighborhood. It was our first year here, our first Christmas, and our first welcoming home of Baasha. He was happy here, lying down and sleeping in the snow. Dominating his donkey Bellis eventually. But those first few weeks showed me how happy he was to simply be here, 8K km from "home."

Here Baasha rests his muzzle on my husband's chest. It was his way of saying "love."




I echo what my sister said, "Oh my heart."

Thank you Becky.