Sweetest. Mare. Ever.

Sugar kisses from days gone by.

The way I heard it told, when Sugar was imported from Holland she was given the name barn name "Sugar" because she was a big sweetie and because her registered name, Obottie, just doesn't roll off the tongue.

Time after time she's shown why she she deserved her name, and today was no exception.  When I get to the barn and enter her stall she likes to say hello, sniff me up a bit, and lick me.  " Kindof like the equine version of "Hello.  How was your day?  What have you been up to?" She doesn't like to have her halter put on or her feet picked until we've gone through a proper hello.  Today when I walked in we went through the normal routine and even after 5 minutes of her licking and me scratching her itchy bits she wasn't ready to get started.  She wanted to keep licking.  She licked my hands, then my breeches, then she started licking my jacket and pulling my zipper up and down.  I laughed and let her do what she wanted for about 10 minutes.

When I went to pick out her feet, she swiveled her head and blocked me, eyeing me sideways.  I tried to approach from the other side, and her head swiveled around to block me from that side as well.  She wasn't being aggressive, she was just telling me she wasn't ready to get down to business yet.  Okeydokey, I thought, we can play some more.  So I made a move to go back to her left side, and she blocked me, looking almost like a cutting horse with a cow.  I moved to the right, and she blocked me again.  No pinned ears, no hard eye, just a clear communication that she wanted to mess around.  So I played my roll, trying to get around her and letting her block my attempts.  I'd feint right and then juke left, and she'd swivel her big ol' head to keep me at bay.  I was laughing like a loon, having a blast just goofing around with her.  We must have played like that for close to half an hour.

I was a little tense when I got to the barn, and I think Sug knew it.  She's done things like this before; once when Noah was upset over some things at school she kept him in her stall and licked him silly for about 20 minutes until he was helpless with giggles. Once she was satisfied that he was fine she went back to eating her hay.

We had a nice ride, and a few minutes before we finished I noticed that the children's pony camp had come in to the viewing room and were pressed up against the window watching the riders.  I waved at them, and when I left the ring I stopped and stuck my head into the viewing room and asked if anyone wanted to pet a very sweet horse.  Quick as a wink 10 wee ones, probably none of them more than 6 years in age, lined up ready to pet the Sainted Mare.

It was one little girl's birthday, so of course she was first in line.  I showed her how to say hi to Sug, with her hand held out, palm up as if she were giving Sug a treat. I told her that Sug likes to give kisses, so to be prepared to feel a tickle wet tongue.  The little girl stepped up and shyly he'd her hand up.  Sug's big head came down and she gently sniffed the little hand, the stuck her tongue out and licked.  This elected giggles and ear-to-ear grin.  She moved off so the next child could meet Sug, and one by one each little cherub stepped up and was greeted with a kiss.  It was simply precious.

Any one of them could have walked under Sug's belly, they were so small, and Sug must have looked enormous to them.  None appeared scared though, and I imagine it was because of how gentle she was with them.  When I moved the walk her away she pulled back and turned, putting her head down and making one last sweep of kisses down the lineup of little ones.  They giggled, and some even pressed kisses on the velvet nose in front of them.

I was so very proud of her, and amazed all over again at how lucky I am to have such an amazing creature.  My big mare positively made those children's day, and I'd wager instilled a lasting appreciation for horses in them as well.

Awwww Alert. Cute Video of the Sainted Mare.

One of the bestest things about Sug is that she takes such good care of us.  She clearly views me as the Village Idiot, and sees her job as that of minimizing the damage I might inadvertently cause.  She very obviously sees my children as her foals, and you can tell she is determined to co-parent them to the best of her ability.  When we come into the barn, she will nicker at them in her low rumble until the come to her stall and say hello.  When I take her out of her stall, she will stop by the kids and lick them, almost as if she is inspecting them and checking to see if I've kept them in good shape.

I was noodling about watching some of my saved videos and came across this old one.  If you've been following AWIP for a while, you may have seen this before, so I offer my apologies for that.  I just felt like posting it again, as it shows so well why we call Sug the Sainted Mare.

Enjoy, have a great weekend, and again, thanks for taking time out of your day to hang out with us!

My Horse = My Family's Therapist

Dr. Sug - Therapist Extraordinaire

I guess there's no stage in life that one would call particularly easy, but seventh grade really seems to be a bear.  I remember it being pretty rough for me, and this past year has been one of change (good and bad) and challenge for my son as well.  The good thing, the constant thing, is that we have the horses.  They give us so much, both when times are good and when they are not so good.

When I think back to my own middle school experience I cringe.  Middle school was the height of my awkward years.  Think two rows of teeth (my baby teeth hadn't fallen out but my adult teeth had come in) combined with really thick coke bottle glasses, topped off with a really bad perm.  Oh, and I was 5'6" and had really big boobs (36DDD).  Basically, Mr. Magoo crossed with Jaws crossed with Jane Russell's body Weird Al Yankovic's hair.  Yeah, I know, NIGHTMARE!!!

I spent hours at the barn where I took lessons, crying into my favorite horse's manes.  It's a miracle poor Lazy and Andy didn't develop rain rot from all the dampness I subjected them to.  Bless their hearts, their company and silent approval is what got me through those gawdawful years.

My son did not inherit my crappy eyesight or teeth (many thanks to the PB's gene pool!) but is certainly having his own rough times finding his place in the middle school world.  The other day I picked him up and my heart broke as I saw him walk out of the school, alone, while others in his class spilled out in groups. I asked him what was going on with his friends (he's got a few really good ones, but I like to touch base now and then about the larger picture) and he burst out with, "I have none!  Nobody likes me!"  Thus started a very long conversation, fraught with emotion on both sides.

Thankfully it was a barn night.  By the time we'd managed to fight through rush hour traffic we were both almost vibrating with tension.  My daughter bustled off to her pony's stall, and Noah and I walked over to get my mare.  Sugar was pressed up against the stall door, and as soon as we opened it she began frantically licking us.  She's a licker, kind of an equine version of a Golden Retriever, but this time she was almost frenetic in her efforts.  Her big head swiveled from me to my son, then back again, as she determinedly slobbered us from stem to stern.  She used her head to pull my son in to her chest, cradling him in the curve of her neck as she focused her efforts on me.  After a few minutes she decided she'd done all she could with me, pushed Noah out so she could reach him, and pulled me in to the curve of her neck.  She then set about licking my son.

Sugar groomed us for about 15 minutes, refusing to let us move away or stop her, until we were both helpless with laughter.  Our hair was sticking straight up, we had green slobber all over our faces and arms, and our shirts had been pulled out of our jeans.  We looked a mess, but we were both smiling and relaxed for the first time in hours.  Finally she stopped, looked us over and sighed heavily, clearly exhausted but satisfied with her efforts.  She knew she'd done her job and her people were now back to normal.

Noah and I pulled Sug out of her stall and set about returning the favor, scratching her in all her favorite places, grooming her, and then massaging her.  Noah took her out for a bit of a graze while I coached Soph for a bit, and when I went to check on them I heard him chatting quietly to her.  I don't know what he said, or how she answered him.  All I know is that when I drove home that night my son was smiling, relaxed and happy.  No doubt there will be other rough moments in the coming years.  I'm just so thankful we have Sug to help us through them.

TGIF. Finally.

Oye.  It's Friday morning, my first day back in the office after a week out traveling on business, and I've got that post-travel hangover when 3 lattes just doesn't cut it. 

Thus, today's post will be simple.  At some point I will share with you some thoughts from my recent mental performance coaching session.  Just not today, as I doubt I can coax any type of mental performance from my fried brain.

So, Friday funnies it is!

I love this photo.  It's a fantastic shot, but also reminds me of the Sainted Mare's feeling about water.  She's not a fan.  At all.  We had a moment like this at the river near our first barn.  Involved a LOT of creative vocabulary on my part.

No discussion necessary for this one.  It's just cute as heck.

Same thing here.  I know it's not horsey, but still.  FUNNY!!!!

And this is the Sainted Mare's vote in the This Horse Should Be Sainted category.  She's had to save my butt often enough that she likes to recognize other equines who, through no fault of their own, are put in the position of having to extricate themselves and their riders from difficult situations.

DRUMROLL, PLEASE.  (And thanks to my friend Joanne Murphy, who shared this on Facebook.)

For Sale or Lease...

Now, I'm not in the market for a horse, but like most horsey folks, I can't help but look at the sale ads posted in magazines, at tack stores, or at horse shows.  It's an addiction, but on the scale of 0 - Crackhead, I figure it's a pretty innocuous one. 

This particular ad caught my eye as I was heading up the stairs to register my daughter for her classes at the Four Seasons horse show last Sunday.  I glanced at it as I walked by, did a double-take, and stopped to get a better look.  Three seconds later I was laughing my butt off and trying to avoid being incontinent. 

Alaskan Warmblood?  Custom bridle included?? Reserve Champion 2010 "Top Guns of the Tundra" All Breed Show?  Sadly outgrown at 19.3hh!!  BWAHAHAHAHA!!!!  This was AWESOME!

Of course, while I was laughing my head and offering mental kudos to the comic genius that created it, part of me was thinking, "Gee, I wish my mare would get her knees up like that."

"If you would stop jumping up my neck, I certainly could!" is the Sainted Mare's pithy response.

Sorry, Sug.