Mama-Brio

You remember Mama and her spunky three-year-old boy Brio?

She’s the beautiful white Paso Fino mare, nicknamed Mama because she is such a good mother.

We could call her Saint Mama if we chose to.

She set the parenting bar in the pasture very high. She kept excellent track of her curious, spunky son.

Always seemed to put him first.

I remember times when I’d show up to hand out snacks and if Brio wasn’t at the fenceline, Mama would whinny and call to him until he showed up.

It was as if she were saying, “The snack people have arrived! You’re going to miss out if you don’t get over here right now.”

Sure enough, Brio would find his way to the lineup of eager snacksters.

Just like we did as kids when our moms would call us in for dinner when we were outside playing.

Horses or kids – similar dynamics.

 

So lately, I’ve noticed that these two are less joined at the hip.

Mama still finds her way to the snack lineup with stunning regularity.

Brio – not so much.

Oh sure, he’ll get in line when he’s not hanging out with the older boys of the herd. But that’s usually where he is.

He’s growing up.

I suspect he doesn’t want to be seen as a mama’s boy, though he hasn’t said that in so many words.

His people have gotten him a trainer.

Brio is on his way to being a big horse, learning how to wear a saddle and bridle; learning how to take direction from his human rider. It’s going to be an interesting summer for him.

As for Mama, she’s learning how to use all that free time she never had.

Trying to figure out who she is, now that she’s not a 24/7 parent.

It’s a big adjustment.

I remember flailing around for at least a year trying to adjust to the new relationship with my growing-up-not-needing-me-so-much-son.

We survived quite nicely.

As I know Brio and Mama will.

To his credit, Brio still drops by to spend time with his mother.

And I think Mama’s joined a book club!

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