Let’s Get Together, Yeah, Yeah,Yeah

This was written a month ago and everything is going smooth now.

Okay so here’s another song from my childhood.  It was in the original “Parent Trap” movie with Haley Mills.  I guess it was back in the 50’s, you know, the “Good Old Days.”  My cousin and I used to sing that song.  But there is a different story behind it when you are trying to introduce a new member to the herd.  Especially one who is very opinionated.

I stress more than the horses do when I try to introduce a new horse.  This isn’t the energy you want when you are making introductions.

We all know there is a pecking order in the herd.  Usually I worry about where this new horse is going to fit into that order.  I also am concerned for the safety of all involved.  I certainly don’t want anyone hurt, they do that well enough all by themselves, for no good reason.  There are hoofs flying, and teeth showing.  It’s not always the biggest that wins.  Usually everyone loses.  I thought this one would be a little easier since I was introducing a gelding into a herd of three mares (snobs).

My preference is making introductions in the morning.  This way they have all day to figure things out, and I can watch them.  The discussion between them usually takes hours of give and take, hooves, and teeth.

Last nights party began an hour before dark.  So at 9:00 last night I was still sitting in the pasture, on a mounting block, to make sure all was going to be quiet for the night.  Everyone was well exercised and tired, so a truce was called for the evening.  It’s like when we were kids.  You called a time-out only to return to the game the next day.

Well the sun is up.  I did not hear the thundering of hooves over night (with my bed bouncing across the floor), no one jumped the fence (and was looking in my window this morning), all seemed quiet.  I have two mares and a gelding standing under the trees by the house and only my Zoey is standing on the opposite end of the pasture, under a tree by herself.  She is not going to give in that easy.  She’s my hold out.  She’s like me.  She hates change.  Those were her two girlfriends, and now the boy has taken their attention and broken up “That Old Gang Of Mine.”  Only those of you who are long in the tooth will remember that song.

You all know that the expression “Long In The Tooth” with its meaning of a horse having some age on him.  When people used to look to buy a horse, they would first look at their teeth to determine the horses age.  I remember when I used to go to the horse sales as a kid, everything was a 9 year old.  Until you looked in their mouth and realized that this particular horse hadn’t seen 9 in years.  Anyway, when people would describe an older person they would use the old horsey term “Long In the Tooth” instead of saying he/she is older than dirt.  Now back to our regularly schedule program.

I hope that Zoey will give in and rejoin the herd today.  My guess is that as soon as she does the gelding’s old girlfriend will arrive and I’ll have to pull him out of this herd and move him to another pasture with her, and then I’ll have to listen to the racket of screaming separation anxiety all over again.

Some people don’t care.  Just throw them together and let them get over it.  That’s not who I am.  The last time this horse came in (he’s back), I put him in a different pasture and he kept jumping out, taking top boards with him.  And when he couldn’t see the horse next door, he paced the fence line all day and half the night.  You can have trench warfare in this one.  My husband just bought new boards, and the trench is just starting to fill in.  The horse next door (his old flame), has gone across the Rainbow Bridge, which he doesn’t know yet and probably won’t believe.

So here I sit back at square one again.  Neither the horses nor I need to be stressed, but it’s part of the game we call owning a Boarding Barn.  Boarders come and go, the names and breeds may change, but the confusion goes on forever.

First Aid kit in hand, hammer, nails and boards loaded, buckets of grain ready.  Let the games begin.

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