Wally Arrives at Spirit Creek

Wally and Ginger 

Someone Call Us for Treats?

Wally, but I call him William Wallace



The Peace of Horses

Soggy and tired, the Old Dukenator rests beside the car.

Jake, entirely tuckered out.

Friday morning at 6 am the prairie was still wet, but the dogs and I headed out to Ginger's pasture to tie yellow ribbons on the fence all the way around the pasture.  That was to help Wally, the new horse scheduled to arrive that morning, to easily see the fences.  I thought I could accomplish this in an hour, but the total length of the fence is right at a mile.  It actually took almost four hours and all of us were hot, wet, and tired.  Since I had just immersed myself in a literal mile of chiggers, I took a bath with a half-cup of clorox in the water, the only thing I know of that prevents chigger bites.  In dry clothes, I drove up to the gate to wait.  Duke and Jake rested in the road beside the car.

Ginger had followed along the fence to keep an eye on the ribbon tying.  She must have sensed something was about to happen because for no reason she tossed her head and took off for a grand gallop to the far east end, then back, then she was off for the far corner and stayed there grazing, done with it all.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually we heard the truck and trailer approaching.  I was a little worried.  You never know what might happen with horses.  It was perfect that Ginger was out of sight.  It would be a great surprise for her to discover a horse in her pasture.

I heard some commotion in the trailer as I opened the gate to the pasture, but soon out steps a tall Arabian, his head high, wondering what in the world was about to happen.  He was nervous, but like all horses that have been well-treated, he was trusting his people, which is the most heartbreaking thing about horses.  I called Ginger three times.  Just when I thought I would have to go get her, I saw her rounding the low hill in the southeast corner of the pasture.  She came, mane flying, thundering directly up to Wally.  She was beautiful, shining like a copper penny, her neck arched and her nostrils flared.  There was a lot of snorting and Ginger squealed and threatened to kick, but never did.  When Wally's halter was taken off, both horses took off.  Wally ignored Ginger and Ginger was instantly smitten with this handsome new guy.  Within a few minutes, both horses were grazing.  The former owners said "That's it.  They are a herd."  They were not worried any more for Wally.  They said Wally was going to be the boss.  "Imagine that," I said wonderingly.

As far as Ginger is concerned, Wally is the best thing since carrots.  She does not even want to boss me around but we will see how long that lasts.  Wally is a wonderful spirit.  He is kind and friendly.  I see him motionless and staring to the east sometimes.  I know he is missing his home and his herdmates but hopefully that will not last too long.  Ginger absolutely adores him.  I do not believe she will ever kick or bite him - I can even feed him treats first and she does not pound him with a kick to the belly or a bite on the butt.  I absolutely adore him.  He allows me to wrap my arms around his neck and give him a big hug, which Ginger only tolerates for about 30 seconds.  Wally seems to enjoy being hugged.  He will soon find out that he is king of the world here. Maybe that will make up for being homesick.

Thanks to Barry and Linda for the wonderful gift of Wally.