It started yesterday morning. I fed the horses, went out the back stall door to open the gate to the pasture and returned. I told Pippin, "Easy, fellow" as I walked into his stall. Evidently he was so involved with crunching and munching his hay he didn't hear me. I touched his left hip. Pippin was so into his own little world I'm sure he thought a cougar was about to dig into his more than ample rear end. He hauled off with a double-barreled kick. He connected just below my left knee and hit a glancing blow on my right shin. Luckily I was far enough away, or close enough... I'm not all that sure, but all I suffered are bruises and one leg aches a bit.
Fast forward to the afternoon. It was Pippin's turn to go to the arena across the street. The one that Doc is sure is an alien space ship. I performed all of the usual functions; grooming, or at least knocking off some of the mud, saddling, attaching a longe line behind the saddle and putting on the bridle. After Pippin thoroughly inspected the milk crate I was going to use as a mounting block, I got on and we started down the driveway. You. Would. Think. The. Driveway. Was. Sheer. Ice! Pippin walked very, very carefully, as if he was sure he was going to slip. He took tiny, slow, deliberate steps. Then, we finally got to the road and took our sweet time crossing the street. In fact, he was so slow a car had to slow down for him. Then, we got to the wide shoulder, and then - OMG - what's that?!!! Pippin, it's just a rolled up newspaper. Oh. It's OK. You can walk on. Oh, Holy Cow! What's THAT?! That's just the sign for the stables. Snort! What was that?! That was just the wind. Pippin snorted, tucked his rear end in and scooted,
Pippin redeemed himself when we got into the arena. Does this look like a wild horse to you? (Sorry about the lousy quality of the pictures - my phone doesn't always do a great job.)
Who? Me? Act crazy?
He's so cute!
It's hard to stay mad at him!