Friday, May 20, 2011

Stormkite Comes Out of the Bog

Those of you who have read this blog right along know that Stormkite was definitely a equinus-non-gratis when it came to his integration into the herd.  The mares roughly rid their marely selves of his geldingly presence with charges, bites and kicks.
Weird shot of both Stormkite and DeCato sharing the run-in.

He never wanted to go too far away from them, though, so he spent his first few weeks here, at our new place, standing in the bog that is situated just outside the run-in.   It’s a mess in that bog, made worse by the rainiest spring in recent memory.  I usually felt so bad for him, standing in the rain and the bog, not to mention that I was worried about the health of his feet, so I often interjected myself into the equation, trying to find a way to get the gelding out of the bog.  I would carefully arrange the hay and the mares so there was a spot for Stormkite in the run-in, coax him in, leave satisfied, then look around and see that he was standing in the bog again.  Before I even got out of the barn.

Well, somehow when I wasn’t looking, he managed to get himself into the run-in without my help.  We started noticing him in there once in a while, then more often, and now, he’s in there pretty much all the time.   He’ll still get chased out once in a while, usually when I appear with some particularly desirable treat, but he’s usually in there with the mares. 

In fact, it’s DeCato the mustang who gets tossed out more often now.  She will try everything she can to chase Stormkite out, as she used to, but he seems immune to her pinned ears, bared teeth and threatening butt-end.  I can’t see the difference between the way DeCato tries to get him out and the way any of the other mares do get him out, but he must.   

I actually think the event that sealed his position in the herd was all the mares coming into heat at about the same time. He didn’t know what to do when they start giving him the come-hither, and doesn’t have the gonads to do anything about it, anyway, but they all seemed to look more favorably on him after that.

Now, if I can just get DeCato out of the bog.   

Actually, I’m going to solve the problem by getting rid of the bog, but we still have a couple of months of mucky misery until the contractor can get to us.  Eventually, though, the bog will be a mucky memory.

No comments:

Post a Comment