His name is Rusty, Rusty Radiance if you want to get all fancy and formal. He is a rescue picked up by Forever Morgans from the Enumclaw sale barn kill pen. I had been desperately craving a horse to train, I don’t miss starting colts that was just hard work. But one horse to get going in as long a time as needed, that’s my kind of fun. My mom, on whom I can blame almost anything horse related, found him and told me about his plight.
He was going to be shipped to slaughter the next day, Forever Morgans needed a foster home for him before they could bail him out. I did not need another horse, cravings for training or not. So after thinking about it for awhile I asked my husband if I could take him and he didn’t see a problem. I figure I get around the not needing another horse thing by not owning him, he’s just here to visit for awhile.
Of course I’m blogging about him, that’s half the fun, just not here. I added a link to his blog in the links ( Rescuing Rusty) or you can find it here.
My husband brought a box of clothes home from work for The Goblin Child. He came in and set them down on the floor where she proceeded to tear into them with gusto. At first I thought she was upset and crying but then I realized that she was near to tears with joy over new clothes.
Of course she quit the exclamations of joy as soon as I got the camera out. But imagine this times ten.
We went riding, the three of us. The horses were delightfully hot and prancey. Ok not delightful, quite a nuisance especially with 8 in front of me. But they weren’t bad exactly and 8 loved it, going out at least. Coming back he was getting tired.
Back at the pick up/ mounting block/ hitching post they were both happy to be playing in the back. The weather was warm and hooves not muddy so I decided to trim the ponies. I had the tail gate up so no one would fall out and no where to tie. I gave the lead ropes to The Goblin Child to hold and started on Coyote. He stood nicely, as always. Then he started to fidget, acting almost like he wanted to step forward. I got the foot finished and stood up. There, in the pick up, stood The Goblin Child against the cab hauling forward on the lead as hard as she could with Coyote trying to decide who to obey.
Her favorite playmate started preschool this year and play-dates have been few, while cold miserable days have been plentiful. While the school offers preschool we are in no rush to start her to school for real. I like having her around and she’ll spend enough time in school, maybe. A local church offers preschool and we have friends who have sent children there for a day or two a week and loved it. So we decided to give it a try, one day a week.
She insisted we dye her hair pink for the special occasion and carefully chose a dress to wear.
She is our little social butterfly so it was no surprise when she was thrilled to be dropped off. I got there a little early to pick her up and got to watch the last of a lesson. They had rhythm sticks and were taking turns choosing what to do with them. Noting whether it was a fast or slow beat or pretending they were a bow and arrow. When it was The Goblin Childs turn she thought about it then said “Lets do something fun” because apparently the other stuff hadn’t been? then began windmilling her arm wildly. It must have been fun because the next boy chose the same thing.
He crawls around on the floor pushing his toy tractors making wet brooooming noises. Anything with wheels is fascinating. He finds a wheel while we are out and about and he has to check it out. A dolly at the grocery store nearly prevented us from ever leaving. He can sit for what amounts to hours in small child time spinning the wheels on his toys.
Unlike his sister who has to be drug out to feed every morning he loves it. He loves to stare at the tractors. He wants to hang out the window and watch the cows. When he’s allowed to drive he bounces up and down chirping with joy.
He is enthralled with four wheelers. When it was warmer and we could get outside more I would put him in his backpack to go check cows. As soon as we got on the four wheeler he would start bouncing up and down in excitement. Now he cranes his head to watch them go by and even better he has his own to ride.
On the bright side he gets all excited about riding horses too.
I had asked if there was any chance we could come along when they went to get the bulls in from the pasture. I was told the would be making quick work of it with the four wheelers and it wouldn’t work very well to try to come with horses. But my always considerate husband called from the payloader as he was feeding to say that there was one bull already in the pen and if we wanted we could come bring him the rest of the way in.
We did want. But wanting and remembering to keep getting ready and not get out every toy we lay eyes on and generally to keep getting ready are two different things. When I finally got her drug out the door, two horses saddled and a bouncy child put on I thought we had probably missed any chance to chase cows. It’s all she’s wanted to do for the last few times we’ve ridden. But we really can’t just go around chasing cows, it’s simply not done. And I worry. I know Onna has seen cattle before but being around them and working cattle in tight quarters with yearlings stampeding in the next pen and four wheelers zipping about are two very different things.
She was great though, despite my worries. We got there in more than enough time to bring him in then went after a couple still in the pasture. The first one came in easy. The second one not so much. We had to trot a little and turn and hard things like that. I looked back to find The Goblin Child hunched in the saddle with both arms wrapped around the horn. About then the guys showed up with four wheelers and I was going to take her back to the house. But she wanted to ride with papa on his four wheeler and my darling loving husband volunteered to take Onna back to the house, he does hate cattle anyway. So I got to work cattle, for real!!
Coyote was in a halter and it was icy. I kind of thought we might die. Chasing cattle, bulls especially, is the one thing my grouchy miserable old gelding loves. Besides food of course. We plunged through snow too deep for four wheelers and with Coyote locked onto that bull, biting him on the butt regularly, he zigzagged back and fourth bringing him up. With the snow deep enough to stick a four wheeler in spots, it felt almost as though we were really helping and not just out to play, not that it wasn’t both.
My old boy pranced and hopped about like a youngster, fighting what little control I had with the halter. It was great. The bulls came in quick and easy, all to soon it was done. We picked up the half frozen Goblin Child, threw her up on his back and led them back to the house. He dropped his head and walked calmly along side me as Onna screamed frantically for him from their pen.