so proud to live .. [Cherokee]

[harley]

The mare snorted as she was turned around in circles, performing serpentines like an old gymkhana horse. As the straighaway came up, she dashed almost to the rail, skidding to a quick stop, hind legs locking at the hocks in a bent motion, front legs moving along with her to prevent injury. She stood up straight, and backed up quickly, butt tucked underneath her in a frenzy of dust. Sneezing once or twice, she stood there, breathing heavily, her head at the same level as her withers, one ear pricked forward, the other sideways to listen to the woman atop her back.

[jagger]

Cheering brightly to the little mare, Mirrah kicked her stirrups loose and swung out of the saddle, throwing a hug around her neck as she patted the sweaty neck politely. "Good mama! You did so good!" She grinned and loosened her girth slightly, unclipping the mare's throat latch before turning to lead her out of the arena.

Crossing the short distance to the barn, Mirrah looped the mare's halter back around her neck and tugged Cherokee's bridle off, replacing the halter quickly and allowing her to stand bit-less while she continued to untack. The mare had earned a good cool out and a bath - no reason she couldn't do that without tack. "Did such a good job, Cherokee! Very proud of you.."

[harley]

The mare snorted when the cinch was loosened, breathing in a deep breath, resting her hind foot. She followed behind her new rider patiently, walking along in more like a funeral procession than a lively walk to the stables. Her red coat was dust-coated and wet, her neck, belly and flanks sweat-coated, and the white spot on her belly more brown than white. She stood, mouth dropping the bit, her head held still as her halter was placed over her nose and clipped at the poll.

It would take some time to get used to the new routine, the new name, and the new woman, but it wouldn't take much, as the mare was still trusting humans, and not weary of their actions, besides the simple act of raising their hand above her head, and loud noises, such as the dog barking while she was working. Still breathing heavily, the mare turned her head and nipped at her shoulder, a pesky itch that she couldn't reach any other way.

[jagger]

A pat on the broad neck praised the mare for her continuing good behavior. "Good girl, girly." Removing her saddle and replacing it quietly in her tack shed, she asked the mare to stand as she retrieved a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. With a light tug on the lead, she led Cherokee out to the wash racks, crosstying her and turning the hose on. She let it run for a minute before testing the water temp - at this time of year the hose could be tremendously hot and she had no intentions of scalding Cherokee.

Raising the hose to splash on the mare's legs, she waited for any reaction before proceeding. She didn't want to deal with a thrashing, wet mare if she could avoid it - that was just asking for trouble. Her thoughts drifted to the Bashkir she saw for sale at the auction barns, and the thought it had struck. "Say, Chero, think you'd be a good mommy someday?" She spoke aloud as if the mare could understand.

[harley]

The mare stood patiently, all four feet planted into the ground as if they were four strong, sturdy trees. With a tug on the lead, she followed, rather willingly, to the washracks. Though she snorted with the sudden burst of cold water and raised her head, ears pinned to the back of her head, tail thrashing. After no more than five minutes, she was fine with the water. She'd been bathed before, but it'd been a while.

Though she didn't understand the girl, she swung her head around and nudged her when she was close enough. Maybe she was trying to get an itch and the girl was in the way, or maybe she was hungry. No one could tell with this little red mare.

[jagger]

Another gentle pat and she quickly went about her business, efficiently and effectively washing the mare clean head to toe. She had an appointment booked with Domi - the farrier - later; and would prefer to have a mare that looked otherwise well cared for. It never bode well to show up to an appointment with a dirty horse. This would be an interesting experience; for both her and the mare. She planned to have shoes removed entirely to see how the dun did barefoot.

Turning the hose off, she picked up a sweat scraper and went to work squeegeeing the excess water off her copper penny hide, musing to herself as she worked. She could essentially train the mare for 9 of the next 11 months before the baby came; then she'd get a month off and go back into training with baby by her side. If the mare didn't object to being a parent, of course - which some mares did. Mirrah had never considered owning a baby before but a sick, demented and foolish part of her really wanted to get into the Quarter horse business - a baby here and there, train all her own horses.. keep busy and out of trouble.

Finished her squeegeeing, she tossed the sweatscraper back on the rack and untied the Quarter Horse, leading Cherokee off the rack and back into the barn. She found her stall quickly enough; sliding the door open to lead the mare in and check her food and water. Unhaltering the mare, she stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaning on the half-door quietly. "Have a good night, girl."

[harley]

Snorting slightly with the finishing of her bath, enjoying the cool liquid flowing over her red hide. With the return to her stall came a new game, which was called rolling. Walking outside, the mare smelled the ground before finding the perfect place - right in the middle of the paddock. First lowering her head and neck, she tucked in her knees and lyed on her side, snorting as she moved her neck against the ground, shifting her weight over, doing this a number of times before winning her battle with gravity and rolling all the way over, repeating the process twice before standing. She grunted, shaking her neck and head before shaking the rest of her body. She raced into the stall, just before coming inside bucking and farting, then settling down to eat.