Three years ago, Scottie the big chestnut came into my life. I had just put down my long time partner and best friend, Shadow. I needed another draft in my life, and of course my other horse needed a new friend too.
I visited and rode Scottie, then known as Elton, several times before making the decision to purchase him. Trained by one of the O'Connor's trainers as a 3yr old, & currently 6years old, he was a steal at $2K, custom bridle for that big head, included.
We came home and Scottie quickly asserted himself as leader of the 2 horse herd. Everything was going along very smoothly. We went out on the trails several days a week. Scottie appeared to be adjusting to me and his new home quite well.
Now, before I go into what happened next, you need to know a little background on Scottie in order for it to make sense. He was born and raised on the farm where I purchased him. His mother, a registered Irish Draught, still lived on the farm with him. She was purchased in Ireland and the owner did not know she was in foal, to what appears to be a Belgian. (one look at Scottie and that's not hard to see.) Scottie was professionally broken at three, but still very green. He was not ridden regularly. Occasionally he was hacked on trails and hilltopped at the local hunts. He seemed to be a horse that you could leave alone, and come back to with no problems. Terrific! When I tried him out for the first time, I noticed he had on a strange halter. It was made of skinny rope. I had never seen one before.
This was the beginning of what I thought were my troubles, but turned out to be the best thing I could have ever learned.
Several months went by when I noticed a few things were changing with Scottie. He was doing a lot of grocery shopping while out on the trails. (Looking left and right and trying to snatch leaves.) He was getting hard to catch, and starting to spook. I would take my feet out of the stirrups upon arriving at home, and he would start running around when they touched him. I would unbuckle one side of the girth and when it dropped down he would try and take off. Within a few weeks these things had escalated. One day while taking his tack off he spooked and ran off with half of his tack still on. The next day I couldn't even catch him. Standing in the field, looking at my beautiful 17.2hh Belgian cross that I couldn't catch, I realized I was in trouble and desperately needed help.
ReplyDeleteSeveral months went by when I noticed a few things were changing with Scottie. He was doing a lot of grocery shopping while out on the trails. (Looking left and right and trying to snatch leaves.) He was getting hard to catch, and starting to spook. I would take my feet out of the stirrups upon arriving at home, and he would start running around when they touched him. I would unbuckle one side of the girth and when it dropped down he would try and take off. Within a few weeks these things had escalated. One day while taking his tack off he spooked and ran off with half of his tack still on. The next day I couldn't even catch him. Standing in the field, looking at my beautiful 17.2hh Belgian cross that I couldn't catch, I realized I was in trouble and desperately needed help.
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