The guy that owns my stable really caught me by surprise today. Believe it or not, he has actually learned how dangerous horses can be and that I maybe, sometimes, need a bit of a heads up, before he does things when I am working with the horses.
I have rented this stable for three years by now, and I have broken in Saleem, while this guy have been setting up target practice in the back yard, shooting his hunting rifle when I least expected it. I never complained about it. Or pointed out how dangerous that is to me. I always kind of figured, what is the point, really? And Saleem never got out of hand.
I did pick up my torches and pitchforks when he drove his tractor onto my pasture, while I was breaking in Tardis, and he was really surprised that I was angry about that. My horses are not afraid of the tractor, how would that be dangerous?
Well, my horses hunt the tractor. Imagine me, sitting on a young Arabian mare, that doesn’t really respond to or respect the bridle, and the four other horses, her foal included, runs off to hunt the tractor. What might she do? Stay with me? Or go running after that tractor and ignore me? You know, try and add two and two once in awhile, would you…
And then there was the time when I was breaking in Apocalipse, sitting on him for one of the first times, and he started his compressor right in our face. Granted, my horses knows it, they are used to it, and they hardly ever flinch over it, but a horse, carrying a rider for the first time, feels vulnerable. He will spook.
I never quite knew if this guy found it a little funny, to see how well I handled my horses, if he accidentally spooked them, or if most of what he has done over the years have just been thoughtlessness, but that one time with Apocalipse that landed my at the hospital, seems to have taught him a lesson after all.
Because he came to me today, and warned me that he was going to shoot down his flag, so maybe I would want to keep a little distance to the horses while he did that.
I can honestly say, I am not sure what surprised me more. That he warned me, or that he was going to shoot at his flag with a hunting rifle. Farmers and hunters… I will never understand those kinds of people, and he is both.
Okay, so it has been storming like crazy for weeks now, and the flag had tangled itself to the top of a nearby tree. I had noticed that, and granted, it would have to be untangled, because it was pulling on the flagpole, and that didn’t seem like a good idea. But shooting it down?
I mean, he has machines that can reach it. He could have easily just driven one of his huge machines up to that pole and raised himself, or me even, up there, to fix it, but no. Let’s bloody shoot it down…
Today, for the first time, the wind had quieted down. Nothing moved. Still, it took him three shots… Seriously, three shots? I mean, what are you, a Storm Trooper? They let you hunt animals, with that aim?
Anyway, my horses were totally cool. I am so proud of them. They sure learn to put up with a lot of strange things around here. As do I. And he warned me, for the first time ever. I’ll take that as a good sign. There might be hope for a future, where he won’t have me killed by spooking my horses when I least expect it, after all.
I am pretty good at handling most situations; Poseidon taught me to always be on high alert, but still. Sometimes I just ain’t fast enough. Fair warning is kind of nice.