I took Bella out for exercise last night, but since the round pen was busy, I turned her in to the sick pen.
Now the sick pen is usually reserved for colicky horses that need watching; but when it’s empty, it can be an exercise pen. I sometimes put Bella in there, but not often, for one very good reason.
Amber is the elderly but still peppy Morgan mare who has the pen next door. And for some reason, she has this rooted belief that little Bella is a baby. And not just any baby, but her baby.
She’s always delighted to see her . . .
Now Amber is a 26-year-old virgin, so this is not possible. She thinks it is, though. She whinnies gladly when she sees Bella, and snuffles and nickers over the fence.
Bella doesn’t really care much, but likes to show off a bit anyway.
The sad moment comes when I have to take Bella back to her own pen, and Amber neighs after us for a long time. She often calls when Bella and I walk by for several days. She finally gets over it, though — until the next time.
Horses are such interesting people.