Phase 1 | First Impressions

     Mare, 15 hands, overweight, recurring laminitis. I’d committed to memory the very little information given to me about this new project horse, and yet I still didn’t feel very confident. Her issues sounded manageable enough, but surely she wouldn’t be coming here for something so easy to handle?

     The dry lots were empty, aside from the slow feeders filled with hay, waiting for the new inhabitants to arrive. A few people were working with their projects here, and one in particular sounded like she would be perfect neighbors with the mare I’d been assigned. A nervous, shy little grey mare, given her own space but sharing a water trough with mine, who’d likely be too pushy to let her be too nervous.

     A distant rumbling slowly filled my ears, the all too familiar sound of a trailer being hauled up the gravel driveway. Halter in hand, I made my way over to the front of the barn, arriving just as the truck did. I barely managed to catch a glimpse of the driver as he rushed to open up the trailer door. The others waiting to unload their horses slowly filled in around me - only a few of us, no one I recognized.

     “Red Dun mare, you’re first,” The man called as he stared at his clipboard.

     Shit. 

     A part of me was hoping at least one other person might go before me, just in case my mare decided to unload like a bat out of hell - at least if someone else’s horse did too, it’d be less embarrassing for me. 

     My lips tightened into a thin line as I approached the trailer, and as soon as I was in view, I was greeted with an extremely pissed off, larger than life horse. Her ears were pinned, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was glaring at me. Doing my best to maintain my composure, I reached up slowly to let her sniff at my hand.

     Her nostrils flared, and a sort of shriek of a whinny filled the trailer as she jerked her head back, stomping against the trailer floor.

     What the fuck.

     I could feel eyes boring in on me as everyone else watched the situation unfolding, and I took a deep breath, pushing their focus to the back of my mind.

     I clicked my tongue softly, throwing out a low ‘Whoa’ as I reached my hand back towards her. She barely looked at me, but after a moment, finally decided I was worthy of another sniff, this time only eliciting a snort. Good enough.

     With her head dipped towards me, I slipped the halter on, clasping the buckle before I opened the guard between myself and her, and quickly shuffled to give her room to exit. 

     Of course, she needed it.

     Within seconds, I was being yanked from the edge of the trailer, nearly landing on my ass as she quickly pranced out and onto the gravel, her pinned ears finally perking forward to take in her surroundings. A few people staggered back, giving her as wide of a berth as possible.

     “Come on, move. I’ve got four more horses that need to be let out,” the man huffed at me. I’d nearly forgotten he was there, and dipped my head a little ashamed. To my surprise, she seemed to settle just a little once she was out in the open, particularly once she spotted the pasture nearby.

     “Ohhh, no ma’am,” I muttered, giving the lead rope a gentle tug in the opposite direction. She pulled back every so often as we walked, desperately trying to reach for a bite of grass, just one. And maybe one more over there. When I turned to look at her as we approached the open gate to the pen, her ears pinned back once more. Clearly, she was not my biggest fan. 

     Once the hay net had caught her attention, though, it was almost impossible to get her to stand still long enough to get her halter back off. She trotted inside happily, beelining to the golden sustenance, and stood square with her ass towards me, swishing her tail happily as she started to eat. 

     Mare, 15 hands, overweight, recurring laminitis. Had she appeared lame at all? I’d been so overwhelmed with just trying to get her inside the pen as quickly and safely as possible, I hadn’t even thought to look. The paperwork was right about her weight - she might’ve been the chunkiest horse I’d ever seen. I finally peeled my eyes away to focus on shutting the gate, securing the latch as tight as possible. I got the sneaking suspicion that if she was hungry enough, she’d find a way to open it.

     I’d left her files in the manilla folder they’d given me tucked into a bucket by the fencing, and reached for it for the hundredth time today. She’d been a kids camp horse, until her eating habits made her too dangerous to let a kid ride on, and once the laminitis issues started, she’d been put up for reassignment. Unsurprisingly, no copies of any recent vet paperwork were left to me. I’d been hoping to have at least something on record about her issues, if not for myself then at least for tomorrow’s vet appointment.

     I’d been ruminating for days over everything I’d planned to ask about. I’ve never dealt with laminitis, but researching had shown me there’d be a bit going into it to ensure a proper diagnosis. A pit started to hollow out in my stomach at the thought of how she might act tomorrow, especially for another stranger. I wasn’t inexperienced with attitude, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still embarrassing to have other people see.

     Diet was going to be a big factor. I chuckled softly to myself at the thought, but the funniness quickly disappeared as I remembered her sass might not mingle well with restricted food intake. I knew the dry lot would be the safest best for now while we determine and try out a new feeding routine, but I really wasn’t looking forward to how the change might impact her behavior. Lameness was still the biggest concern, though. Behavior can be worked with, but the extent of the disease was going to be the determining factor in what her future might hold, and how important these feeding changes were going to be.

     I sighed, looking up from the paperwork to watch her once more. She hadn’t moved at all, still quietly eating away and occasionally swishing her tail. The sound of hooves crunching on gravel pulled my focus to the road behind me, where the red-headed girl was leading in her grey. The poor thing was skinny, scarred and wide-eyed, and she balked the second she spotted my mare. I watched as the girl did her best to reassure the mare, encouraging her to keep walking.

     Thank god we’d put their hay nets as far apart as possible. 

     With a lot more encouragement, she finally took a few hesitant steps into her pen, her nostrils flared as her eyes darted everywhere they possibly could, frantically taking in her surroundings. I cast a quick glance over to my mare once more, and sure as shit, she still hadn’t moved a muscle. Her ears were back, more relaxed than pissed, and I’d be surprised if she’d even noticed her new neighbor, or how afraid she was.

     The girl approached me after locking the gate, letting out a sigh.

     “Still think they’ll be a good fit for each other?” She questioned, resting her arms against the railing. 

     “Honestly, not so sure. But I sure as hell hope so,” I stifled a small laugh before nodding towards her grey. “Thought of a name yet?”

     She simply nodded, never taking her eyes off the horse. “Celina.”

     I nodded too, debating asking if there was any significance before deciding against it. I dipped my heads towards the hefty mare in front of me, simply giving “Firewatch” in response.