Again, as many of you are aware, it is cold. Very cold. Unseasonably wintery if you will. And Bacardi is experiencing the Winter Wackies. Closely related to the Fall Friskies. But worse, in my opinion because your hands are frozen and you simply just cannot.
|majestic B is majestic. But also an asshole.|
His symptoms include; bolting at nothing, rearing at: snow blowing, leaves, sounds, movement of anything in general, refusing to walk places, tossing head opinionatedly, galloping madly in pasture, snorting, sliding stops into stall so fast at feeding time he falls down, spooking at anything in general, being uncooperative about everything, flinching when touched, and overall, forgetting how to horse.
There it is.
That moment in every young horses life when they are complete assshats for seemingly no reason at all.
I would like to point out that the OTTB variety are especially not logical during this time.
I've been raving for months about how strangely calm, cooperative and willing this wee babe of an ex-racehorse has been about almost everything I've presented him with. I thought I bought defective OTTB.
Thank god thats not true.
No but really, the other day I rode him was the most terrified I've ever been on the back of a horse and that is saying A LOT. I've been on some doozies.
I've been lunging and hacking when I have the chance, because you know daylight savings combined with work and no arena makes for a dull training schedule. He's been pretty great for most of it. When the wind kicked up on some days he was little skittery out in the cornfields, but who wouldnt be.
Last Sunday though, I was pretty confident I was going to end up dead if I didnt cut our ride short. Normally I like to work through things, but I feared for my well-being.
We went for a hack per usual out in the cornfields and I tell you what, he BOLTED at eh. vah. ree. thing. gah. And I mean bolted. Like madly bucking, race speed bolt.
Mildly terrifying. Can still handle. Must go on.
|fast B shenanigans|
|Sideways B shenanigans|
Then for, absolutely no fucking reason, he begins rearing. Repeatedly. Straight in the air.
Cue shitting pants.
Can not handle.
I dont know about y'all but I've never been on a rearing horse and its fucking terrifying. I thought my life was going to end. Right there. I dont know how he didnt flip over. But the vertical height we gained was impressive.
|Vertical B shenanigans|
Mind you, this was all about 5 seconds in time. Yes, a whole life can flash in that amount of time and you can think of every way to die in those brief moments.
I finally got him settled...somehow. And I was about NOPE with the whole situation.
Rearing bad. Do not want.
So, I'm mildly worried that my perfect child has turned into a monster. But the other half of me attributed the out of character behavior to the severe drop in temperatures, being cooped up in a barn, and the fact that it was a blustery day and the landscape changed a bit with snowfall and corn croppage.
OF COURSE I thought about tack. Saddle. Pad. Boots. Bit. my own riding. But seriously, NOTHING changed.
Either way I refuse to own a horse beast that exhibits that type of dangerous behavior, for ANY reason; tantrums, fear, unwillingness, disrespect- it aint right.
So we shall be working on that and seeing how the rest of our chilly winter rides go.
Hoping those icicles melt soon..
|Want this guy back|