Water Pookas!
Apr. 25th, 2004 08:31 pmThis was going to be about writing, but I'll get to that on the next rock. First there is the essential interlude of Hot and Cold Running Lipizzans. They were feeling a bit neglected, as I spent much of the day running errands, and just ran in and out to do hay and water on schedule. Somehow in there I omitted to notice that it was really rather hot. But they noticed.
My first indicator was coming out to feed dinner and finding the hose all knotted out of its neat coil. Somebody had been trying to liberate it. Somebody had mostly succeeded, but I have the faucet rigged so it can't be turned on by clever horse noses. (The horse is the relative of the elephant and the tapir. Think about it.) That way lies flooding.
So here I am, filling water barrels while also taking off fly masks and getting ready for the dinner rush. Camilla sneaks up on the barrel being filled, takes the hose in her teeth, and starts trying to spray herself.
So much for the list of suspects.
Everybody who wanted hose got hose. That was all the Girlz, and keed. The older mares declined, and da Pook hates being wet. Hateshateshates it. Once the kids were wet, it was time for the real fun: a wild, galloping, Airs-Above-the-Ground-ing, let's-all-cut-loose episode, which is pretty much their favorite thing to do just before dinner. Just because. Carrma joined in. Da Pook was boing-boing-boinging in his paddock. Capria stayed out of it. Stupid kids. She wanted her dinner.
We finished off, while the girls wound down, with impromptu walkies for Pook--a bit of a ripsnort here and there, but it's ever so nice to be out with your stallion on a plain halter and lead (no whips, no chains)and be able to keep him under control by literally lifting a finger. Two years of intensive groundwork with Joni's help. Works wonders.
Tomorrow there will be hose at midafternoon when it really makes a difference. This will mean a lot of hot breaded Lippinzingers, as wet horses will roll, and very little can stop them. Then they come back for more hose. If they play it right, they can keep it up all afternoon.
Writer neep next.
My first indicator was coming out to feed dinner and finding the hose all knotted out of its neat coil. Somebody had been trying to liberate it. Somebody had mostly succeeded, but I have the faucet rigged so it can't be turned on by clever horse noses. (The horse is the relative of the elephant and the tapir. Think about it.) That way lies flooding.
So here I am, filling water barrels while also taking off fly masks and getting ready for the dinner rush. Camilla sneaks up on the barrel being filled, takes the hose in her teeth, and starts trying to spray herself.
So much for the list of suspects.
Everybody who wanted hose got hose. That was all the Girlz, and keed. The older mares declined, and da Pook hates being wet. Hateshateshates it. Once the kids were wet, it was time for the real fun: a wild, galloping, Airs-Above-the-Ground-ing, let's-all-cut-loose episode, which is pretty much their favorite thing to do just before dinner. Just because. Carrma joined in. Da Pook was boing-boing-boinging in his paddock. Capria stayed out of it. Stupid kids. She wanted her dinner.
We finished off, while the girls wound down, with impromptu walkies for Pook--a bit of a ripsnort here and there, but it's ever so nice to be out with your stallion on a plain halter and lead (no whips, no chains)and be able to keep him under control by literally lifting a finger. Two years of intensive groundwork with Joni's help. Works wonders.
Tomorrow there will be hose at midafternoon when it really makes a difference. This will mean a lot of hot breaded Lippinzingers, as wet horses will roll, and very little can stop them. Then they come back for more hose. If they play it right, they can keep it up all afternoon.
Writer neep next.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-26 02:06 pm (UTC)