As I stated in my last post, Rose seemed to take everything in stride. From tying to trailering, clipping to clomping above her head in the loft not much bothered her. The old gelding I had leased, Indy, was another of those who had seen much of life and had a "Been there, done that" kind of attitude so I just wasn't thinking about much more than just where to unload Stormy as we pulled into the barn drive with our new horse.
Stormy, however, soon gave me much, much more to think about. Dad backed the trailer closer to the barn doors and we all jumped out to be greeted by frantic screams echoing out of our little 2 horse trailer. Undaunted, I hopped up in the trailer with Stormy, clipped a lead to his halter and dad released the bar across the back. The colt shot out of the trailer as if he'd been fired out of a cannon and let loose another shrill whinny. He spun around mid-whinny and got his first look at his new home. His frantic call died in his throat (it literally sounded as if he swallowed it!) as his eyes widened in shock....I realized then he had never seen any barn bigger than the tiny 2 stall shed he had grown up with. In his four years of life he had never seen anything other than the little paddock where he lived and the 2 elderly people who had cared for him. He stood there frozen, legs splayed in what would have been a comical picture if he hadn't been so afraid. I gave his lead rope a gentle tug and took a step forward. Stormy flicked an ear at me but remained riveted to the spot. I stepped back and scratched him under his mane, working in circles back towards his withers. He slowly relaxed his neck and gave me a shaky sigh. I stepped forward again and this time he took one hesitant step forward with me.
We had, of course, gathered an audience. No new arrival at the barn ever went unnoticed! Thankfully no one made a lot of noise or stuck their nose in places it didn't belonged. It took me 15 minutes to walk Stormy the short distance to the barn doors. I paused there and let him get a good look around. When he decided that nothing was going to jump out and eat him he walked beside me down the hallway and into the main barn. I stopped again and gave Stormy the chance to take in his surroundings. He stood with his head nearly vertical, eyes wide and nostrils flared, breathing in deep (if still rather shaky) breaths. The horses that were still in their stalls were peering curiously out at him, even they wondered what his deal was. This time it only took him 5 minutes to relax and I moved farther into the barn. He still walked with his head held up but at least he was moving forward. He looked at EVERYTHING...the sawdust pile (oh yikes...when you breathe on it, it puffs up in your face!), the chickens, the shovels and wheelbarrows we use for the sawdust...nothing missed his inspection as we walked a lap around the barn. He relaxed even more and by our third lap he was quietly walking by my side on a loose lead.
There was sudden movement in our loft and one of the boarders appeared above the stalls. Stormy snorted in surprise and once again he froze splay-legged as he realized (oh the horror!!) that they were ABOVE his head. I stood, waiting to see which way he would bolt as this was obviously more than he could handle after such a traumatic day. He stood bug-eyed for just a second more then started to nervously lick his lips, then he simply turned slowly around and put his back to the scary lady in the loft. He didn't bolt, buck or flee in terror...he just turned his back! I walked him away from the lady in the loft and he came with no hesitation, walked into his stall and showed interest in his hay.
After that first episode with the boarder in the loft, Stormy's way of dealing with scary situations was to simply turn his back on it. He was never violent about it, just slowly pivoted until he was no longer facing whatever it was that frightened him. He was a very fast learner, he learned to lunge, how to stand for the farrier and vet...as long as I was there he was fine. He was still too much for my sister or mother to handle, neither one ever rode him or lead him to the fields to graze. One of my favorite memories of him is one of us down in far back pasture where only a few horses were let out to graze. I had gone down to the pasture to check on him and stopped to sit a while in the shade. Stormy quietly came up and grazed beside me, simply to be in my company. Those were good days, too bad we didn't know those days were numbered...
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