I now officially own Winston the mini-horse.
Not that he knows or cares.
It really may not matter one lick to him.
He will go on about his days as is usual; heading out into the paddock in the morning to spend the day with his buddies.
He and my old horse Pumpkin have already struck quite a bond it seems to me.
Pumpkin will playfully nip him in the leg, and Winston will oblige by moving to the side to allow Pumpkin to graze at that particular patch of grass.
Pumpkin tolerates Winston as he brushes up against him in a very familiar way.
A way that would not be tolerated if their relationship was anything other than the elder/yearling, senior/junior, brotherly-love type bro-mance that it appears to be to me.
A familiar way that he never let Charlie, the regular sized quarter horse, be around him.
Oh sure, he tolerated Charlie when he needed him, such as when the flies were so bad they stood head to tail under the shade of the trees, flicking each other's face free from the pesky critters.
I saw them grooming each other once; and I almost cried it was such a rare thing that I had never seen before.
But apart from that, Pumpkin was always nipping at poor ol' Charlie, often tearing off patches of hair and skin from him.
The horse way is a brutal way, to us humans.
To us mere mortals, it seems over-the-top punishment.
To them however, it is the norm.
To another thousand pound animal, perhaps it's not so harsh.
And that is the lot of the "top" horse.
Always having to prove why they should keep their spot in the hierarchy.
But back to Pumpkin and Winston.
There seems to be a tenderness to their tolerance.
Pumpkin, a grandpa-like figure at 31 years of age, to Winston's 18-month-old presence.
Perhaps I manifested this ownership of Winston somehow.
I recently put screen savers of them together on my phone.
I wrote a children's book about Winston - at a time when I had planned to write a book about coping with grief.
I had always secretly thought he was mine anyways, because no one else seemed to give a damn that he had a dozen burrs in his mane and forelock and tail.
I gently tried to get them out, and he patiently, incredibly, let me.
He seems to understand when he is being spoken to, talked to, and responds accordingly.
He has one blue eye, a strange phenomenon in horses to say the least.
His ears are tiny, and almost give him an elf-like appearance.
His forelock and mane are so thick and tough and scraggy that I don't know if I will ever even be able to get a comb through them.
His little tiny white hooves are perfect - topped off with a crested feather-like tuft of hair behind each ankle.
Just like a tiny pegasus.
He walks like a little cowboy - something I have noticed with mini-horses - perhaps it is more pronounced because they are so small. Winston walks with attitude - a swagger - a bounce in his step.
He is a paint/pinto colour - a mottled white and brown - technically a "bay tobiano" - and his tail is not exempt from the smattering of shades.
When I try to remove the burrs from his tail, he protests. He does not stand patiently for me like he does when I remove them from his mane and forelock.
We have work to do.
Pumpkin will always be my number one, and I must never forget that and hope that he never gets jealous.
But when I work with Winston, I will likely bring Pumpkin along for the ride too.
So he doesn't feel left out.
And perhaps he could teach Winston a thing or two.
Although Pumpkin was never very good at being worked with.
He had my number, and he played it well, at every hand.
Some may have called him a bully; I call him a very smart horse who knew what he had to do and when he didn't have to do it!
I never had the heart to force him, to be mean, or over-assertive, as the case may be.
He was allowed to just be a horse; within reason of course.
He had to stand for the farrier to trim his hooves; and to be groomed and fussed over, by me.
But that was it.
No hard work; no excruciating lessons; no long trail rides; no unreasonable demands.
Winston, however, may benefit from some agility training!
Some in-hand or liberty "work" that might be fun for both of us!
I have already bought him a beautiful indigo blue halter and green/blue lead rope.
He will look spectacular in it!
He has been handled regularly at the barn since he arrived in February.
He is a little scared still of the farrier, who will be trimming his hooves again tomorrow.
Hopefully that will go well, as I will be happy to stand by him, talking to him to give him confidence, and let him know he has no reason to be worried or afraid.
Because that is all it really boils down to with horses.
That they will be safe!
So, here goes...!!!