Relative Something

It’s hard to help a horse that doesn’t want to be helped. In this case, it’s our sweet little mare Mia who repeatedly shunned our attempts to provide a little extra protection against the elements. For some undetermined reason, Mia is becoming something of a diva, despite continuing to be firmly established at the bottom of the herd hierarchy.

Last Friday, when we were haltering horses for their session with the farrier, Mia held out until the very end and even then, resisted with aggressive gestures of biting and posturing for a kick before Maddy got her haltered. Well, she behaved the same way again for us yesterday afternoon when we were attempting to put rain sheets on all of them.

With Cyndie gone, I asked Maddy for help figuring out which sheet would best fit each horse. She made short work of covering Light, Swings, and Mix, all of whom stood calmly while getting blanketed. Light even patiently allowed the process to happen twice, after Maddy changed her mind and switched to a different sheet.

Mia stands alone on the hill of the hay field while the others are eating the afternoon servings of feed under the overhang.

After those three were done, all we needed to do was convince Mia that she should be covered, too. Historically, she is the one most needing a blanket when conditions get wet. She emphatically resisted our every attempt.

Despite patiently trying to outwait her objections and ply her with treats to coax her cooperation, we ended up leaving her to fend for herself against the coming precipitation because she never ceased her aggression.

I wish I could understand what her gripe is.

Still feeling like there might be some hope, I tried on my own one last time after Maddy left. Mia’s attitude didn’t change a bit.

There was one more trick up my sleeve, though. I called our friend, Michelle, who lives relatively close and has a special relationship with Mia, thinking she might get through to the stubborn mare.

Nope. Michelle reported that she had briefly visited on Sunday to see Mia and was treated badly with those same aggressive behaviors —and she had no agenda at the time other than to say hello.

After dark, when I took Asher out for one last chance to pee for the night, I decided to give Mia one more opportunity to accept a rain sheet, more for my sake at that point than for hers. She immediately walked out into the hay field. I went so far as to walk through the muck of standing water at the bottom of the paddock to follow her, in case being out in the open, away from all the other horses, might soften her resistance.

It didn’t.

I hope she doesn’t suffer as a result of her decisions. It’s heartbreaking to be unable to help, even though I tried so many times.

.

.