Tally

Before you wander down the trail (or through the fence) with Tally, I need some blog assistance. The equine mind meld is a mess. If I was going to clean it up and get it running again, are there any ideas on ow to put it in a better format, or to clean up this one? I like it, I think the potential for help is great, but the spam has gone crazy. Help!







Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

This was going to be just one fricking lovefest.

I had been too blunt with my client, Tim, and now he was mad.

I was still pretty fired up myself, I felt bad for Tally, was mad at myself for pushing too hard, mad at Tim for being a dumbass and more than a little nervous.

Tally had grazed quietly next to her owner while we talked, reacting to the rising tension between us with nothing more than a tail snap and moving a few steps away from us.

It wasn't until I tied her to the rail by the tack room that she let me know where she stood. Which would be knee deep in my guts if she had her way.

Her ears were pinned, her jaws locked tight and she leaned against her lead rope, not quite in full "suck back" position, but close enough. "Fool me once, and I get scared, fool me twice and I'll hand you your head on a fence post," her rolling eye made the message clear.

Tally was done with this game. She had not signed up for saddles hanging around her belly, riders flying of without warning, or nervous nellies refusing to listen. It was time to get put back out to pasture and be left the hell alone. She was more than ready to spell it out to me if I didn't care to listen.

"She's not going to let you saddle her," Tim said. "Nobody could get it done -- even with her leg tied up."

I sighed. God only knows what all was tried on Tally before I was let in on the problem. I decided I didn't want to know.

"Oh, she'll get saddled," I said through gritted teeth.

Boarders were starting to gather around. Tally must have been making quite the impression.

I untied her, held the lead rope in one hand and tucked the saddle pad under my elbow. Tally began to maneuver her hindquarters towards me, tail  clamped, butt muscles quivering, she was planning on a double barreled kick. Bitch.

"Hey!" I shouted, stepped into her shoulder, yanked her head towards my chest and hit her across the butt with the saddle pad. She swung her hips away and bolted. I  turned my body to her hip and yanked hard again, "Hey!" Her head was jerked towards me, she lost momentum and hesitated for just a second. I relaxed my hold on the lead rope. She bolted again. I stepped in, jerked and swung the saddle pad. Rinse, repeat.

Ten minutes later we were both sweaty messes. She had quit bolting and had switched to backing away from me, wild eyed and crazy looking. I kept my lead rope loose, pulling her head towards me just enough to keep her arced and her hind legs moving away. I kept my eyes on her haunches and kept walking and running at her, whatever it took to move Tally just a little faster than she wanted to move and to keep her feet going where I wanted them.

We had worked our way out of the stable yard, through the parking lot and halfway down the steep access road before Tally paused to take a look at me. I stopped, stood square, stepped in a little to give her some slack and waited. Our audience was bigger and had come down the hill with us. I let my concentration relax and glanced over at the observers. The energy rolled off them like the sweaty crowd around a boxing ring, what the hell were they expecting?

I could feel Tally through the rope, starting  to tense again. I exhaled, shook my shoulders loose and focused on her hind feet, moving her forward a few steps and then relaxing. Her head dropped and she blew, slinging snot and sweat all over me. I waited and watched while she stretched out and pounded the ground in frustration, first with one forefoot, then the other. She peered out from under her heavy black forelock, trying to decide her next move by reading my intention. I gave her nothing, just stood, rope slack, waving my saddle pad around a bit and idly looking her over. Jeez, she was pretty. Her sweat soaked shoulders gleamed with good health, her powerful muscles were quivering, ready to fly into action at a moments notice, her entire body was poised and ready to fly, or mash me into the dust, whatever. She was awesome.

Tally decided to let go. She sighed, her top line relaxed, her belly sagged and she lipped the grass. When I stepped in to put the pad on her back she flung her head in the air, but her feet stayed quiet.

"Do you want me to get the saddle?" Tim asked.

"Nah, we'll go get it."

I led her back to the tie rail and saddled her without even a foot stomp.

"That's probably enough for today," Tim said.

I was tired. Tired of his new found horse-man-ship, tired of this dude filled barn, tired of Tally and tired of thinking about the situation.

"I'm going riding." I bridled her and headed back down the hill to the arena.