“Take off your hat,” Kathleen said.
“Take… off… your… hat.” She was almost whispering now. “Noelle wants you to take off your hat. Just do it.”
I glanced to to my left and she was very close, and her eyes did in fact speak with a nudge of entreaty. But I couldn’t imagine why it had anything to do with my hat.
“She wants to be closer and the brim gets in the way.”
I slid the hat off my head as Kathleen cautiously withdrew her iPhone from its holster.
She was right. Noelle took a step closer… then another.
The moment was so very special, and has been such a long time coming. We’re still a good ways from the finish line, but she has now told us with absolute clarity that we’re headed in the right direction.
Noelle is our first mustang. She’s been with us just over seven years as I write this and she has yet to have a single hoof trimmed or accept a halter or lead rope. Only a few months back did she finally trust me enough to let me safely cut off the halter that was placed on her when we picked her up at the BLM facility in Reno. Saffron, our second pregnant mustang, is the polar opposite. She was standing calmly getting her feet trimmed mere months after coming to us from the BLM. She accepts a halter, and leads to a loose line. Which isn’t really necessary because she comes to a call and walks with me wherever I ask. And I’ve been on her bare back. These are two very different mustangs. Probably with different backgrounds in the wild. Possibly different encounters with Bureau of Land Management personnel. And, unfortunately, very different encounters with me. Read More→