Thursday, November 22, 2007

Magical Moments at Chiron's Grove Part I

Odin is a tiny white Shetland pony with blue eyes and an earnest, well-meaning expression. Looking at him is sort of like biting into a coriander seed when you didn't expect to: a little odd, a bit strong, but actually, you kind of like it.

Unless you're Cocoa. He attacked Odin as soon as he came into the herd. Note that Cocoa is tall and long legged; little Odin's back is lower than the bottom of his stomach. He ran fleetly away across the meadow as Cocoa bit and kicked him¸then made a sharp turn and Cocoa, trying to make the same turn, lost his footing and slid along on his side in the wet grass. After that Cocoa still chased Odin whenever he came near the herd, and bit him a few more times, but he had a little respect. Odin continued to use his agility and brains to get away from him.

Odin is completely wild at the age of two and a half. He hasn't been handled before and fears trickery by hands. Obviously he doesn't have hands and neither do any of his friends. His only experience of hands is that they dart out from behind buckets and grab one by the head and drag one onto trailers for terrifying trips into the unknown. So after a little while, when Odin started looking sore and tired from being chased by Cocoa, it became clear that he needed to be in a different space. We had to come up with a plan.

"We" in this instance is Danny, Mikey, and myself. Mikey put on his snow suit and snow boots and gloves, Danny put on his winter coat and his boots and his hat, and I put on three winter jackets, two layers of riding pants, wool ski socks, my warmest boots, a woolen head band, and my leather fur-lined gloves. Over them all I put my riding slicker. It was pouring rain and very cold, with ice on the ground.

Mikey trudged up to the top meadow first, then I did, and finally Danny came along. Little Odin was off in the farthest corner of the meadow looking lonely. We were armed with carrots and I had stuffed a lead rope into my pocket. Goat followed along.

We walked over to Odin. He ran away.

Cocoa chased him back and bit him again, hard, leaving a mark on his side.

Odin assessed us, I suppose because his risk from Cocoa ran pretty high and he had to make a choice of sort. He looked at us, as he stood there all bedraggled and blue-eyed in the rain. I don't know if you know--Shetland ponies are quite shaggy. A white shaggy coat almost never looks white--it looks dirty. This was true in the present instance, so what a pitiful little guy Odin was as he turned his bright blue eyes on us.

Danny held out his carrot. Odin reached out his nose. Danny held still, and Odin took one step towards him to get at the carrot. Danny snatched at his halter with his other hand and missed as Odin danced away and circled back, holding his head high in alarm.

He avoided us all for a while after that, coming in for a look and darting away as soon as anybody moved. I tried a method that works in enclosed spaces, to wit., "walking down" a horse. I trudged after him whenever he moved away, and when he got close I held out my hands so that he knew that I did intend to capture him. I offered the carrot when he had the courage to turn around and sniff at it, but also held up my other hand so he knew that the price of the carrot would be allowing me to take hold of his halter. He didn't think this was a good deal, so this phase of things lasted long enough that Mikey trudged on home again through the rain, waving at us from the top of the driveway before clumping home the rest of the way in his boots. Danny stayed around, and as I trudged after Odin Danny stood absolutely still no matter what Odin did, only occasionally offering him some more carrot if he got close. At last Odin decided to take his carrot, and Danny very wisely just let him have it rather than trying to snatch at him again. Odin dropped the carrot after one or two crunches and bent down to get it out of the grass, with his body well within Danny's reach. He slowly put out a hand and touched him, then scratched his neck and shoulder. Odin didn't move away from him.

After a few minutes of the two of them forming this connection I tried to move into the friendship space but Odin again darted away. The magic had happened, though. He was no longer actually afraid of us, and eventually allowed me to touch his rump. And again. And finally, stood still to enjoy some nice scratches, even as my hands went all over him and up closer to his head, where Danny was giving him some more carrot. I scratched his side, then reached across him to scratch his other side, then scratched along his neck and gently took hold of his halter. He knew that was going to happen eventually, I guess, because he made no objection. I pulled the lead rope out of my pocket slowly (he noticed this too) and snapped it onto his halter. When Danny and I turned to make our way across the meadow to the gate and then down the driveway to the house, he simply stayed by my side and needed no tugging.

Odin had joined up.

3 comments:

  1. If you really want to know what bothers me, I'll tell what it is...

    Here's what bothers me...

    I read you blogs all the time because I figure if someone takes the time to post a blog, they nexpect that it might get read.

    So that's why I read your blogs...

    And I even leave comments from time to time, and this is one of those times... So I'm leaving a comment now...

    Nice blog... But I'm sure glad I ain't slogging around in some pasture somewhere with 48 pounds of cold wet clothing on chasing a horse that's too dumb to know somebody is trying to be helpful...

    What is it that makes people feel good about something like that? Is it a way to get rid of guilt over having dome something really bad when you were a kid, or are you just a masochist at heart?

    Jeez................

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well... you're the one who raised me on a farm.

    And by the way--I do leave comments! But maybe you don't read them...

    ;)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Well, missy - I DO check to see if there are any comments from time to time...

    And I sure don't see very many...

    Now I know why that is...

    Just about nobody don't care at all about what I think or what I have to say...

    And I'm OK with that - I really am...

    Can you imagine how it would feel if every time you opened your moth it would be parsed and disected all ove the country, and people woiuld be calling into talk shows and making up cardboard signs to carry around and gathering in public parks and all that kind of crap just because you SAID SOMETHING...

    Hoo hah... Not for me. I prefer to just render opinions on stuff and have them totally ignored.

    That way I can go through life thinking - no, make that KNOWING - that I'm always right. Otherwise somebody would have disagreed with me...

    ReplyDelete

Followers