Comment

Comment by Elly on October 14, 2008 at 8:20pm

Meet Foxcry Nicodemus, one of the smallest dressage ponies in the World. Standing proudly at 12.1 hands, he and his regular sized rider can be found competing against Warmbloods in recognized shows up and down the US East Coast. Highly athletic and equally intelligent, Nick is usually the crowd favorite - like for example at 2008 Dressage at Devon.

Comment by Karoline on October 13, 2008 at 5:00pm

My 2 year old was on this huuge field this summer. When I went to visit her, I got stuck in the mud with my foot and couldn't get out. So I stood there about 10 minutes and didn't know what to do.
I began to shout and call her name (Yajamila, which means "the beautiful one" in arabic) and within 2-3 minutes she came running towards me.
Suddenly she started to "dig" around my stuck foot and soon I could come out again :-)
She didn't save my life, but made it a lot easier to continue my walk haha. It was really unbelievable how quickly she understood that I needed help ! She is not only the beautiful, but also the communicating, understanding and intelligent one.

Comment by Linda on October 13, 2008 at 3:17am

:-) The spoon was just one of those things that happened, the puddles are something that seems to happen with a lot of horses. Funnily enough, he's no problem with very large puddles, if you copy and paste the url at the end of the post, you can see what I mean (couldn't get the image button to work)

Comment by lesley bruce on October 12, 2008 at 3:44pm

Linda,
Wooden spoons and puddles ... Yet more Gems.

Cheers
(¯`*•.¸(¯`*•.¸Lesley¸.•*´¯)¸.•*´¯)

Comment by lesley bruce on October 12, 2008 at 3:41pm

Ingrid,

you must have been speechless
...
Cheers
(¯`*•.¸(¯`*•.¸Lesley¸.•*´¯)¸.•*´¯)

Comment by Linda on October 12, 2008 at 2:53am

Salad doesn't hold with puddles. In fact Salad doesn't hold with wet patches of mud. Every puddle you meet on a hack is met be bananna horse, bending every which way to make sure his precious tootsies don't get wet, tippy toes like Fred Flintstone bowling when he does get to them, and heaven help you if the puddle is the width of the track!

Once in the winter of his 4th year, I was missing out on a hack I rather liked because of one big puddle. He wouldn't/couldn't get past it and NO WAY was he going to put his feet in there. So I set off just after lunchtime, all the time in the world, today, Salad was going to do that puddle.

He strode out happily all the way along the road, a few concerned glances at the white lines on the road (no he doesn't hold with thoses either) but behaving himself. Got to the woods, trotted happily along the track until we came to the puddle - head down, stopped like he'd been pole axed.

I asked him to go forward nicley, I patted and reassured him, I praised him for just one step, and was resolute when he tried to spin/whip round/reverse. I gave him some encouraging taps with the schooling whip, I gave him a smack with the whip, I got off and stood in the puddle myself - "No really, look see - it's not deep" I got back on and sat waiting for him to get bored, I turned him round and tried to reverse him in.

3 hours later..... the little s*d was still stood there with his hooves in his ears singing "lalalalalala I can't hear you" Gave up and went home as dusk was rolling through the woods.

*cough*

http://www.colbeckphotography.com/gallery.aspx?f=%2fimages%2fevents%2fReadyField+Meets+2007%2fBroomhill+Feb+07%2fRFbrmhilFeb07+_0153.jpg&page=1

Comment by Linda on October 12, 2008 at 2:34am

When I first got Salad home he was a 3yo colt. He was actually very easy to handle in every way except one. Feed time.

As soon as I went round with the feeds, he'd be there tossing his head and giving his best imperious whinny. His manger was at the back of his stable diagonally opposite the door, and going in I had to get past him whilst being mugged and tip the feed in. Several times I'd turn round to be confronted by him standing up waving his forelegs at me - he never touched me, but intimidating nonetheless.

One day, I'd had him a couple of weeks, and rushing in to feed, I'd not put down the wooden spoon that I'd used to mix the feed, it was just in my hand. Turned round as usual, and he was crowding me, without thinking about it, I bopped him right on the nose with the spoon as he got close. He was absolutely gobsmacked! Dropped back to the floor with his ears spinning while I stoood there and ranted at him, waving the spoon and telling him that enough was enough, he'd stay out of my space. He meekly waited until I stepped away before moving a muscle.

To this day, he only has to see a wooden spoon to freeze. (he still has the imperious whinny though!)

Comment by Ingrid on October 11, 2008 at 9:04pm

Lesley the cat food was a brand new 20 Lb sack of dry cat food..Not only did he slig cat food all over the pen , he then proceeded to shred the bag into a zillion pieces...

Comment by lesley bruce on October 11, 2008 at 3:50pm

Hi Ingrid,

Your little lasso (yes the name raised a smile) sure is a one off. Oooo scary when he got his tooth stuck in the stirrup.

What a hoot him empying out your shed, cat food ? was it tinned or packeted? the mind boggles. I haven't seen "fifty first dates" must look out for it, you have set me wondering.

Well he certainly keeps you entertained and I should think fit as a fiddle.

Really enjoyed reading about him.

Thanks.
Cheers
(¯`*•.¸(¯`*•.¸Lesley¸.•*´¯)¸.•*´¯)

Comment by lesley bruce on October 11, 2008 at 3:36pm

Hi my2mares,

What a wind up when he just jumps on and off she goes.

Your story brought a real smile to me it reminded me of when I started my beloved horse Luther a very self important colt with huge charisma. I thought he was apsolutely astoundingly brilliant because he had gears always going in the slowest one until asked for more when he would give the tinyest tad more and so on. I thoroughly praised him and truly thought him fantastic, a real gentleman. He ended up giving me everything he had.

Well years later it dawned on me he was actually napping and not wanting to go at all, and if I had got strong with him a huge can of worms would have opened, I quake at the knees at the thought he was a very, very proud horse. But I kept telling him how great he was.

Wonder if something similar is going on with your mare maybe she doesn't feel your son will ask much and she can do things on her own terms, you never know.

It could be because she knows you're a good rider she doesn't want to play.

Oh but the wind up .......................

Many Thanks for the post.
Cheers
(¯`*•.¸(¯`*•.¸Lesley¸.•*´¯)¸.•*´¯)

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