One of the men in my life is a nine year old thoroughbred gelding named Darcy. He is, as they say, A Character. He is stubborn, arrogant, dominant, argumentative, cheeky and occasionally aggressive. Luckily for him, he's also very good looking, a charmer, and sometimes very sweet, or else he'd make a fine stick of glue...
Yesterday my beloved and I visited Darcy and my pony Gold, and instead of riding, we just led them out for some grass. A nice, peaceful wander through the countryside as the sun set, what bliss, right?
Not quite.
Darcy was in A Mood. He got a bit excited, hooves were thrown around, and we had to have a bit of a discussion about manners and respect. He had a think and apologised, and we moved on to the grass.
One of his paddock-mates was hanging at the fence looking sad and forlorn, so I tried picking handfuls of grass for him.
Oh, special handpicked grass, thanks Mum! says Darcy, scoffing it repeatedly.
I tried to push his obtuse bulk aside, and somehow he stepped on his leadrope, and his halter came off.
The light of freedom sparked in his eyes.
He slowly started walking away slowly, and I followed, so he accelerated. Exhilarated by the taste of sweet liberty, he galloped around, bucking, farting, snorting, doing his best impersonation of a Wild Stallion, circling and swooping past me. Filled with revolutionary zeal, he tried to herd Gold away from us, to join his uprising. Gold, older and more sensible, ignored him and kept eating. He has very firm priorities in life.
Slightly crushed, but still defiant, Darcy retreated and started eating grass. Defiantly.
We decided to put Gold back in the paddock. The sun had set, and light was fading fast. Gold happily ambled into the paddock. Darcy followed, but at a wild and independent distance. Time to bring out the big guns. I started chewing loudly on a delicious carrot. Gold also had a delicious carrot. Oh, how we were enjoying our carrots.
I wandered over to Darcy, and asked if perhaps he'd like some delicious carrot? Why yes, he really would, thank you muchly. Could I put his halter back on? Of course you can Mum, no worries! Halter on, my sweet, innocent horse followed me placidly into the paddock. He stood amiably by the gate until we left, gentle eyes regarding me lovingly.
What a dick.
