we moved my grand daughter's pony this weekend. He was at a farm that initially met our boarding needs, but when I rehomed my riding mare, they cast little Tull out into the pasture with no stall to call his own. They treated him like a fleeting thought. They fed, watered and let him come into an open barn at will, but the flooring was all mud, so deep, it sank him to his knees. He is only 38" tall! a wee thing! I moved him to get him to a place where he had his own stall and was kept warm and dry and safe.
He had turned into a hellion while living loose. But as soon as we moved him, and he was in a stall again, he immediately relaxed and became very quiet and compliant. It was as tho he was so grateful to be out of the mud and rain!
__________________
Pole bachit, a lis chuye.
The field sees, the forest hears
|