My gelding can be kind of stupid spooky sometimes. Last night, he was jumping at any kind of noise, snorting, acting up, wouldn't collect at all because he was too busy prancing around. Last week, he was perfect. He was calm, acting like such a gentleman for me and trying so hard to be perfect.
Horses are very unpredictable. Granted, I know why he has been hyper and spooky lately, but still. Non-horsey people need to realise that horses are NOT push-button animals. The deadest-broke horse can still have a meltdown if given the right circumstances. They are beautiful, dangerous, powerful creatures with minds of their own. They can be fine one moment, and downright insane the next if something sets them off. The second you assume something about your horse, he or she does something that keeps you on your toes. Non-horsey people, not all, but some, ought to show horses the respect they deserve. Then they would understand why we love them so much and just how crazy it is that we team up and bond with them. :)
Non horse friend: "awwwww, your little pony is sooo cute! Look at those big eyes!"
Me: "..... He's not a pony, he's an Arabian. Arabians are horses...."
Non horse friend: "he looks so sweet! Can I ride him?"
Me: "do you want to die?"
Love this have told many people this type of thing. Posted via Mobile Device
No I do not think it is funny when you are looping or galloping my horse on gravel.
Neither do I like yout bossing me around and telling me what one of my hoears you are going to ride Posted via Mobile Device
Actually, a stuck-up snob named reagan said once to me that riding wasn't hard and horses were always calm to me and my horsey friend, Jackie's, face. I had an end of summer party where everyone was invited, and after a while they asked to see me ride. I let Jackie ride one of our other horses while I rode my usual. A few of my mostly non-horsey friends had gone to camps or taken lessons, so we let a few of them ride a mellow horse because they had an idea of what they were doing. Anyways, Reagan tries to tell me that she is going to ride Moose, our big, black, quarter horse that is so beautiful he could be mistaken for a Frisian. One problem. He is an insane racehorse. Not was. IS. I tell her to sit tight while I go ask if I can ride him. I get a lunge line and lead him into the arena. As soon as I get the whip to snap on the ground, he is pulling on the line and rearing. Eventually, I wore him out and we have a nice ride, but I definitely left a mark on Reagan that horses are wild, unpredictable and crazy. Even if they are pretty.