So I go out to the barn to check on Sarge's progress, and all six of my critters are out by themselves in the small (ten acre) pasture. I get to hike out and find them.
Okay, fine. I traipse out to the top of the first hill and see them grazing on top of the second hill, about 100 yards away. So I call them. The heads pop up out of the grass, and they head my way.
At a dead run. All six abreast, shoulder to shoulder, like a freakin' offensive line. And as they get closer, they aren't slowing down.
Insert expletive of choice here.
Now my horses always come when I call them. But usually they're out with the rest of the herd and scattered around so they don't all reach me at once.
Or get carried away with the whole yee-haw-stampede mentality that horses can get into when running in a group.
I know better than to move when large animals are approaching at high speed. They can see me, and they have already decided where and how they are going to accommodate my presence. Horses are extremely careful not to run over people. Accidentally.
Knowing all of this does not mitigate the pucker factor in the least.
Yes, I stood my ground, and yes, they stopped. By skidding to a halt practically toe-to-toe and showering me with dirt and grass. Jolly fun, according to them.
From now on, I will walk all the way out to them as long as they're by themselves so they can bond with the new kid, and leave the long-distance recalls for when they're out with the herd again.
Or maybe push my luck and try to get some video. It was pretty spectacular.
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6 comments:
Guaranteed they did this on purpose. Had two big warmbloods do similar to me. Ya just gotta stand there. Pucker factor? Never did find that pair of underwear I had on that day.
That is FUNNY! (Not for you at the time, of course— but the recounting is a giggle-maker.)
Big dogs will do the same sort of fun-nonsense. I had a Rottie who would "do the charge" and veer off at the last minute and I'd swear he was grinning and laughing about it.
Anyone that says critters don't have a sense of humor is dead wrong.
No kidding about the big dogs. Greyhounds wrote the book on high-speed fly-bys.
One adopter who guessed wrong when his nerve broke got nailed right in the worst possible place by his Greyhound at the dog park. And he had a basket muzzle on the dog at the time.
If your undies are unstained after that, you have more guts than I ever will.
Between guns, horses and other critters, how could anyone NOT find your blog entertaining?
Nice job.
Holy crap! I didn't know horses do that.
I once found myself on a narrow road between a ravine and a steep hill with a herd of cattle stampeding right at me.
I dove in the ravine. My cows aware buddy laughed and laughed. He said they would go around me. I dunno.
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