the old grey mare

(she's not that old, but no one ever wrote a song about a young grey mare)

Meet the latest addition to my fur-friends, a beautiful dapple-grey full blooded Quarter Horse mare of approximately six years, who is in serious danger of being called The Grey Mare for the rest of her life. (Just like The Black Pony and My Kitty.) I personally would like to call her Fia - Celtic for... something - since she has fine features and, let's face it, is grey (never had a grey horse before!) and something about that deserves a somewhat mystical (not exactly the word i'm looking for) name. Somehow I don't think it'll stick.

She has been a broodmare all her life, literally out on the range. The couple who owned her breed Quarter Horses and she was one of their own, born and bred on their place, so she got handled when she was little like all the others. But beyond being halter broke, she's a blank slate. Did I mention that she was six-going-on-seven? Yeah, could make breaking her to ride interesting.
 Still, she's bright and full of potential, and underneath a friendly little gal, just shy and wary from the little human contact she's had while living every horse's dream all wild and free with her pals out on the prairie.

I was out with her yesterday brushing and talking to her, pretty much trying to convince her that I am not the Boogieman, and there was a moment after she settled down and relaxed (we were discussing chickens) where I completely forgot she wasn't broke and actually was making plans to hop on her bareback. I had a grip on her mane and everything and it was only when she took an uncomfortable step back that I realized that this might not be the best idea.
 So, yeah, I chickened out(read: woke up) and probably missed out on a real life Black Stallion moment. oh wells.

  I really can't wait to see how she turns out as a riding horse. She looks very promising.

and have a chicken before you go :)

have a lovely thursday, what's left of it!