The Day the Little Horses Escaped

My brother was painting the barn yesterday. He had the day off, and had promised to put in a work day at the farm. In the process of painting the barn, he left the gate open, and the miniature horses got out. He was on the ladder painting, looked up and there all three of them were, in the front yard.

horse faces

Now, if this had happened to me, I’d have just called to them, and they would have followed me into the pasture like the pied piper, but momma didn’t raise no fool horses, and they don’t know him well, so they weren’t having any of it. Stranger danger, apparently.

Poor Brother was freaking out, because he knows how much I adore the little guys. He tried to coax them with hay, but he didn’t know that in the horse hierarchy of awesome, its grain, then grass, and THEN hay, so that was nothing doing.

We feed the horses their grain from a red scoop, so if the yearling mares see a red scoop, they will follow you into Hades, but Brother didn’t know that. He tried a bucket, but the girls have never been fed from a bucket, so they ignored it. Tucker, however, is older and hasn’t always lived with us, and he knew the glorious possibilities of a bucket, so he takes off flying towards poor Brother and the bucket. Luckily, he got Tucker up.

Then he tries to hand feed grain to the girls. Holly is still having nothing to do with it, but Ivy eats from his hand, for the first time in life. He gets her halthered, and led almost to the pasture, but at the last minute she changes her mind and balks. Te halter slips her head  and its back to square one. Finally, he gets a rope around her neck, and she will lead with just that, so he gets her in the pasture, two down and one to go.

Now all that was left was little Holly, who is a very sensitive and delicate little flower. She will do everything but crawl into my lap, but she doesn’t like strangers, and she was having nothing to do with him, so finally he opened up the round pen door and herded her into the pen, and then shut it.

Brother couldn’t even finish painting. He had to go home for a few minutes’ rest! Poor guy. I had no idea they’d be so hard to catch, because I can halter them in the field and call them anywhere.

It could have been a bad situation, but it turned out okay. Every time I think about Tucker chasing him for the bucket, I giggle.

Happy homesteading, and horse wrangling!


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