Not the main bully, but also a horse my guys don't like.

There’s been some drama lately in the area where I feed my two old sweeties.

Most of the time, the Herd of Oldsters is waiting for me by the shed, while the rest of the horses are out in the pasture.

We have a routine that they know by heart.

But every so often a few of the younger horses wander into the shed area around feeding time.

That’s when the trouble starts.

The Oldsters do NOT like the young bucks.

They’re afraid.

And for good reason.

Horses get all wound-up when it comes to feed. They push and jostle each other. Sometimes they bite or kick. I know it’s hard wired into them.

Instinctual.

Survival of the fittest and all that.

Really, I know. I watch the Discovery Channel!

But I don’t like it.

Call me Pollyana. Go ahead. I don’t mind. It fits.

So there is one horse (who shall remain nameless) that is out and out a bully. He’s big and strong and pushy. None of the horses likes him much. But my guys really don’t like him. When he walks into an area, all the horses scatter. It’s like a bad gangster movie.

The past few days he’s decided to position himself right in front of the gate. He’s not afraid of much of anything. I can swing the rope at him to get him to move, and he’ll back up a step or two. Then he comes right back. He’s definitely not afraid of me.

 

This makes it hard for Bud and Pepper to get out. Usually I can back him away long enough for my old sweeties to make a frantic run out of the gate.

It’s high drama.

Bud will blast through and head straight for the feed pan. Then Miss P. runs through, ears back, nostrils flaring. And all the while she’s eating, she’s tossing her head, and snorting. The bully could care less. He stands at the gate like a six-story building, not budging.

A couple of days ago he took a major chunk of flesh out of Red’s back. Red was trying to get up to the fence for his share of treats.

And the bully got all bent out of shape and bit him.

It made me really angry.

Staying away from the bullies.

Then my little Herd of Oldsters, the senior citizens of the group, moved away from the bully. They clustered together, way down the fence line. They sent pathetic looks toward me. They wanted their treats, but were afraid.

And I’m telling you, it broke my heart.

It was yet another reminder of how the old and weak and disenfranchised get pushed out in societies – human and animal.

By the way…Red is fine. Horses are used to getting kicked and bitten. I’m not used to seeing it!

 

 

 

 

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