The Little Mare

So, we looked at a one year old mare, for one of my friends this Sunday, which had us driving half way across the country in a blizzard, to find this:

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Well, we didn’t expect to be utterly impressed, but I must say, I was rather shocked. Not by the state of the little mare, but by the conditions they were living under. Five young horses, in a house, much like mine, and then, not at all.

Iron tubes and bits of fence hung from the ceiling, a tree was growing through the roof, a freezer stood in the middle of the house, and random tin plates with razor sharp edges lay around on the pasture. I am astounded that they were not bleeding all of them. I mean, honestly, how do they survive in conditions like that?

My horses would have died instantly, cutting themselves on the tin plates, hitting their heads on the stuff that hung from the loft and getting tangled in the fence. Sometimes I think I baby them… clearly, other horses are able to survive without having their mom duct tape and cotton wrap every hexagon nut in their house, so they won’t cut themselves. (Marble did that twice, just saying, before I realized what on earth she was hitting her head on. I had never imagined it could be done, but my horses must clearly be idiots compared to those five ones…)

Anyway, the little mare… Well, she looks a bit poor at the moment, but it turns out that she is not one year old, she is only 7 months, and yes she is skinny, but it is nothing compared to what Marble looked like when we brought her home.

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That can be fixed.

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The little mare seemed like a nice girl, although she was at the bottom of the hierarchy, so she was a bit cautious. All in all, it was five very good natured, easy going, horses, who clearly wasn’t all that used to human contact. The huge red one hung over me like a fly to fly paper, making it rather difficult for me to meet the little mare… I don’t know what it is with me, but red horses seem to take naturally to me…

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I must admit, I didn’t look at it too much. We were there to see the little mare, and possibly buy her for my friend. I was so not buying any horses. Not even a huge red one, that clearly was more than ready to crawl into the back of the car and sit on my lap all the way home… *sigh*

Anyway, I keep referring to the little mare without naming her, because as it turned out, she does not have papers and therefore, her name can be changed. I am kind of waiting to name her, until my friend has brought her home and decided what her name will be.

amalie

Yes, she is coming home, hopefully next weekend. I am so looking forward to getting to know her and I am so happy for my friend because she has finally found a horse to fill some of the hole her horse Lise left when it died of cancer. I hope you two are going to have a lot of happy years together.

Hopefully we will be able to show some prettier pictures of her soon, once my friend gets her home and has her straightened out and groomed and fed and handled and loved. I really do believe that there is a good little horse in there, underneath the long and messy fur. For now, I hope that transporting her home is going to work out and that you can get your horse away from that place before she trips and falls on a tin plate or something else… I would be going crazy if it were me… I bet you are too… Fingers crossed that she will stay out of trouble a little longer.

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About Starstone

-Owned by horses. Writer, Photographer, Director, Musician.
This entry was posted in Horses and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Little Mare

  1. jen says:

    I don’t go so far as duct taping every hex nut I find, but we’re careful to remove debris from our pasture and make things as safe as we feel reasonable….and still, the horses manage to get scraped up on stuff now and then. While down the road, there are horses on a pasture that’s filled with old pieces of rusty machinery and other debris, and they seem to survive just fine. It has always amazed me, too. 🙂

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