A good horse is never a bad color

... but why can't the sweetest little dream filly be at least average?!



She's my new project, one in the herd of 20, at the auctioneer's farm down the road. Whenever Woodford and I show up, she walks over to me immediately, so I decided to start doing some basic work with her if she's gonna be there. She is responding at a rate so supreme I can hardly believe it! As far as I know, she's never been really messed with at all. A fresh canvas! I'm tired of nearly a lifetime of dealing with other peoples' horse issues. It can be very mentally and emotionally trying sometimes.

But anyway, about this little girl. For now I call her Tisket. Already I can pick up all four feet, she yields to slight pressure (i.e., moves away from pressure, not into it like instinct tells horses to do), and she lets me touch her anywhere I want (I can put two fingers in her mouth and rest them on her tongue). Just this afternoon at lunch I rode my bike down there with Woodford to see her. I stood at her shoulder, faced her butt, and lifted each of her legs up with a rope I had slung around behind them. That's pretty good, you know, for just being a yearling.



Love!