The Story of Milo II

The Story Begins Here

Getting to know Milo that summer was a lot of fun. He had a ton of personality, and was a fresh slate. I didnt ride him for about two weeks, although he had been advertised with fifteen rides and I had even ridden him at my initial meet with him.

He had a lot of ground manners to correct. He didnt respect a person's space, was extremely mouthy, and was just broke to lead (sort of). I spent the first two weeks simply teaching him how to longe, move out of my space, lead quietly beside me, among some other basic groundwork exercises. He had an issue when I first met him of holding up his hind legs, so that was another obstacle I planned to work through.

Since it was summer time and I already took the transit bus to Js everyday for work, I opted to just spend all day there. I spent a lot of time hanging out with Milo in the pasture, letting him get used to my continued presence and build some confidence in me. Lying in the pasture near his water trough, Milo stuck close to me, a little too timid of this new home yet to explore the farther corners of the pasture.

July 2007

He seemed to enjoy my company, but was still very interested in meeting the Arabians, always taunting him with their mystery on the other side of the fence.

 
Soon the day came for Milo to finally meet the Arabians. They had all been together for years and had a strong herd, and it's pecking order. Koalt previously had always been on the bottom of the totem pole, and none of the Arabians even seemed interested in befriending him. He didnt seem to mind having his own space, but I hoped a different fate for Milo.
 
With two older dominant mares, two geldings right in the center of the pecking order, and four more mares taking up the bottom of the totem, I wondered where Milo would fit in. He seemed like a docile guy but it would be interesting to see where he fit in. J and I decided to bring the two geldings, Rocky and Amadaan into Milo's pasture first, and see if the boys could all buddy up together.
 
At first there simply was just a lot of touching noses, some puffing and only one squeal (from Amadaan, more dominant then Rocky). All seemed well, and J and I leaned against the fence, waiting for something to happen. Some time passed and the two Arabian boys meandered down to the farther end of the pasture, where some of the good spring grass was still abundant. Milo had stuck up top with J and I, but now wandered the boys' direction, trying to make a friend.
 
But Rocky decided Milo was uninvited to their grass party and charged at Milo, chasing him quickly down the fenceline, back up towards where J and I stood watching. Milo ran his little heart out trying to escape the jaws and teeth of Rocky, who was on his rear the entire time, nipping and running his teeth along Milo's flank. Milo dropped his head down and made the baby face, trying to tell Rocky that he was not dominant and just a mere baby. Rocky persisted, then finally Milo got up a few kicks to Rocky. With no impact but now tired (Rocky was fat off at grass), Rocky decided he made his point, and jogged back over to continue his shmorgasborge with Amadaan.
 
Milo came up to the fence to us, wide eyed and confused and seemed to ask what happened, he simply wanted to be friends.
 
J decided they would be fine, and headed back up to the house. I stayed with Milo a little longer.


Milo settling down to graze. Black Amadaan is visible in the background.

I called it a day and asked J to notify me if there was any more trouble. He agreed, and drove me to the bus stop, where I boarded and sat for the 45 minute drive back home.



The Story of Milo

Dad pulled the horse trailer into the pasture with the covered arena and stalls. The Arabian horses had been moved down to the lower pasture so they wouldn't crowd around the trailer containing the new horse. The truck barely stopped moving when I opend the door and leaped out. I confirmed it was still a dumb idea to be wearing capri pants and sneakers on the day we went to pick up my new horse. While warm out, not only was it now evening and my legs were cold, but my feet were ill-equipped for horse handling, especially new horse handling.

No matter though as I crawled into the trailer through the small escape door. There was Milo, a bit nervous and finished with his hay.

The trip started about seven hours earlier that day, when we hitched up J's borrowed F350 to my 80s model Logan straight load trailer. Milo's owner said that she didnt believe he had ever been in a straight load, but with that being my only option I had it would have to do. Now three hours later in the town of Battle Ground,  WA, Milo sniffed the open trailer, then confidently and smartly, stepped right up into it. I had left the door open and Milo untied in case he decided twice about his decision. But after a few moments and Milo discovered the hay pile in the manger, we decided he was fine and closed up the door. The papers and money had been signed and transfered and we were now on our way home with my new horse.

We had stopped at a Shell gas staion, in desperate need of diesel gas. The two stations we stopped at before didnt carry it. Just off the highway we were the only ones at this deserted gas station and since it was warm out, Dad bought the both of us ice cream sandwiches. I was glad for the gas stop, as it had been about an hour and a half now since we left with Milo, and I was eager to check on him. I opened the manger door and peered up at my new horse. He blinked at me with his blue eye, and continued munching hay. I offered water, which he refused, then patted him and closed the door, jumping back up into the passenger seat of the 350.

I pondered my new horse for the last leg of the trip. Never before had I gone through the online searching, the trial rides, and bringing home a horse I had no relationship with yet. When Dad bought Koalt for me it was after months of riding him and creating a bond. Now, I was at square one with this new horse. He didnt know me and I didnt know him. I wondered if I had made a good decision.

Back at J's, I stood in the cramped trailer with Milo, trying to get him to back out of the straight load. He would take a cautious step back, then in panic with not reaching the step down, lurched forward into me knocking me back against the manger. Over and over this happened. It occured to me Milo had probably always turned around to get out of a slant load. My friend had relayed a story to me about it taking five hours to get her new horse out of the trailer upon bringing her home. I was hoping this wouldnt mirror that.

With some patience and praise however, Milo touched the ground outside the trailer, then shot backwards out.

He lifted his head up high and puffed out his chest. Swiveling his head around to catch sight of the Arabians who were now calling out to him, he let out his own greeting.

This was the most pitiful and embarrasing whinny I had ever heard. It truely sounded like my horse was hoarse. Np real pitch to the cry, it seemed Milo was just blowing out air. This strange sound made me and my friend who had met us at Js, look at each other quizzically, then burst out in laughter.

"He sure is pretty" she commented.

"Lets put him in the arena and let him check out his surroundings again" I suggested. From the arena Milo would be able to see the pastures and horses in them, plus burn off a little stem if he wanted after a three hour trailer confinement.

Milo [way cute]

Nina 

 

Milo first night here

Nina 

 

After a little while, Dad drove back home, and J meandered back to his house. My friend and I decided we would put Milo in his stall and learn more about him tomorrow. I was staying at her place that evening for easy access to him again the next morning (she lived only five minutes away, while at the time I was at least 45. She could also drive and I had yet to have my own vehicle).

 

Milo was very interested in meeting the other horses, but I told him he would have a chance to after a few days. He had to settle instead for just staring at them, and embarrassing himself with what was supposed to be whinny.

 

Milo June 31, 2007 just three years old.

Continued