pootleperkin
Well-Known Member
So it's windy and a bit wet up here in the far north today, so thought Gully and Sky, aka. Dumb and Dumberer, would quite fancy coming in for their usual morning/early afternoon rest, considering that in the last few days they have also been receiving a smidgeon of food just to coddle them into work!
Got feed, walked into field, shouted and bashed buckets together. Both standing as if they are playing statues, not even a flicker of recognition. Stood, shouted and bashed buckets together for what seemed like an hour. Both still obviously trying to win the prize for not moving a muscle, despite the huge temptation of food. I started to feel stubborn (you know, 'cos that's obviously what they were being - no anthropomorphism going on in my mind at all!) and I defo wasn't going to walk down to them - I'm doing them a favour after all by offering the poor little mites (see siggy below!) food and shelter.
So, I turned round and headed back through gate to yard and put buckets in stables. So that makes them move. Very slowly, like glaciers. Glaciers that get so far, then can't move any further as next door's tree MOVED IN THE WIND. OMG. How dare it.
So they manage to control themselves, then inch past tree. Get to gate. Gate is insurmountable, as that would mean coming into the yard that they have only ever been into EVERY DAY OF THEIR LIVES (bar 6 months each). So they tetered on the edge of the gate, galloped away, came back, galloped away, came back, dared each other to pass the threshold, then galloped away again. No chance of being caught (though tbh, I didn't try very hard, as by now losing the will to live). I suppose at this point, at least they showed they could move faster than a very slow snail in slow land.
So, I'm afraid, bad mother that I am, I shouted at them that they were both 'ridiculous little munchkins' (or words to that effect
) and shut the gate. That'll teach them I thought gleefully (again, no anthropomorphism here!). I also, moodily, removed feeds from boxes and put them back in the feed room. This was very closely observed by both, now doing their damndest to get through the gate. They then watched me walk away, pulling their best 'but we are only poor little horses and will shrivel up and die if you don't let us in for food faces', but no, they had caused Evil Mother to rise up so I stood firm. (BTW, I'm not that bad a mother as plenty of grass in field and they really don't need the piddling bit of hard food they were about to receive!).
You might think that after living their whole lives in the same place, their surroundings couldn't be that scary, but they really do find their home and the village we live in the scariest place in the world! Never mind, I just have to remember that they have brains as big a walnuts
If I feel amenable in a little while, I might head out and bring them in....if they are good
Got feed, walked into field, shouted and bashed buckets together. Both standing as if they are playing statues, not even a flicker of recognition. Stood, shouted and bashed buckets together for what seemed like an hour. Both still obviously trying to win the prize for not moving a muscle, despite the huge temptation of food. I started to feel stubborn (you know, 'cos that's obviously what they were being - no anthropomorphism going on in my mind at all!) and I defo wasn't going to walk down to them - I'm doing them a favour after all by offering the poor little mites (see siggy below!) food and shelter.
So, I turned round and headed back through gate to yard and put buckets in stables. So that makes them move. Very slowly, like glaciers. Glaciers that get so far, then can't move any further as next door's tree MOVED IN THE WIND. OMG. How dare it.
So they manage to control themselves, then inch past tree. Get to gate. Gate is insurmountable, as that would mean coming into the yard that they have only ever been into EVERY DAY OF THEIR LIVES (bar 6 months each). So they tetered on the edge of the gate, galloped away, came back, galloped away, came back, dared each other to pass the threshold, then galloped away again. No chance of being caught (though tbh, I didn't try very hard, as by now losing the will to live). I suppose at this point, at least they showed they could move faster than a very slow snail in slow land.
So, I'm afraid, bad mother that I am, I shouted at them that they were both 'ridiculous little munchkins' (or words to that effect
) and shut the gate. That'll teach them I thought gleefully (again, no anthropomorphism here!). I also, moodily, removed feeds from boxes and put them back in the feed room. This was very closely observed by both, now doing their damndest to get through the gate. They then watched me walk away, pulling their best 'but we are only poor little horses and will shrivel up and die if you don't let us in for food faces', but no, they had caused Evil Mother to rise up so I stood firm. (BTW, I'm not that bad a mother as plenty of grass in field and they really don't need the piddling bit of hard food they were about to receive!).You might think that after living their whole lives in the same place, their surroundings couldn't be that scary, but they really do find their home and the village we live in the scariest place in the world! Never mind, I just have to remember that they have brains as big a walnuts
If I feel amenable in a little while, I might head out and bring them in....if they are good
