My Horse is a #$@&%*!
 By Polo the Weirdo   •   8th Oct 2016   •   1,629 views   •   5 comments

There are many different types of horses in the world. Big ones, small ones, sleek ones, hairy ones, slow ones, fast ones, calm ones and fiery ones. Each horse has its own unique qualities that make it a special gift from God to brighten the life of everyone it meets. At least, that seems to be the general consensus. Horses are wonderful, sweet, kind, magnificent and loyal creatures that should be loved and worshiped by all. It seems right – I’ve often described a horse as my best friend, my partner, the love of my life. They are amazing, flawless animals. Yeah, I used to think that too. Then I met a certain little thoroughbred called Moo.

As I write this, I am soaking wet from the knee-down, with puddles in my boots, and sand in places I’d rather not mention. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: My horse is an #$@&%*!

No, he’s not misunderstood, or badly trained, or poorly cared for – he is worked regularly, fed a large portion of high quality feed thrice daily, carefully maintained with treatments, has a fitting saddle, and has been taught appropriate manners both under saddle and on the ground. He’s not the sort of monster you often see created by ignorance and poor handling. He’s just an #$@&%*!, like that guy who parks in disabled parking spots, or the woman who cuts in front of you in the queue, or that co-worker who thinks it’s okay to steal your delicious roast beef sandwich that you brought for lunch, and leave the empty wrapper with your name on it in the fridge.

Like any #$@&%*!, Moo has his reasons for his despicable behaviour – the same overall reason, really, which motivates the majority of both jerks and geniuses the world round: laziness. While a genius uses his laziness to find the most efficient means of completing a task, thus converting laziness into success, a jerk does much the same, with one exception: ‘efficiency’ for an jerk usually involves simply inconveniencing everyone else. I guess you could say Moo is a genius. He is good at what he does, he can produce a fantastic dressage test for a thoroughbred, and he rides a mean cross country. The problem is, Moo has realised that ‘proper’ dressage is hard work, and that it is much easier to plod around in a comfortable rhythm with a lovely frame like he did in the lower grades, than it is to actually move forward into the contact with his hocks underneath him like he should do for the higher grades. Put simply, doing his work properly is difficult, so he would rather do the bare minimum that would be considered ‘obedient’, and vehemently object to any attempt by his rider (me, unfortunately) to push him beyond that. This brings us to the puddles and sand (which I’m pretty sure is starting to chafe).

Since the dressage arena at my livery yard is currently under renovation and the jumping arena is too thick to allow any decent work from a work-avoiding asshole, Moo and I have been doing most of our schooling on the beach. It isn’t the ideal work environment, but on a nice day like today, it’s certainly not unpleasant. Unless half of it ends up lodged in your undergarments. In any case, I had Moo working in a good trot, stretching long and low and working on his bend, when some curious onlookers began approaching from down the beach. Moo, of course, was slightly distracted when he noticed them, so I sent him forward into the contact to catch his attention. A few more circles, and Moo continues to pop his head up to look at the approaching people every time he comes around the circle. At this stage, it is clear that he is just using the distraction as an excuse to avoid hard work (trust me, I know when he’s lying), so I decide to call his bluff and demand his attention with a little kick, expecting him to move forward and return focus to me like he should. Well, I certainly got his focus. Unfortunately, he decided that ‘forward’ seemed too much like hard work, so he took advantage of the long rein, and from his lovely rhythmic trot, launched a buck that popped me right over his low neck. I mean, it’s my own fault I came off. My mistake. That’s what I get for forgetting my horse is an jerk. Should have expected it... should have been prepared. I bet Moo is disappointed in me.


In any case, being the #$@&%*! that he is, Moo decided not to wait for me, but rather to gallop off toward home, leaving me to trudge in my boots and chaps back through a knee-deep pan of water, and along a flooded path until I reached the sand track leading back to the stables. I expected that Moo would have galloped all the way home, but as I hauled myself out of the water at last, I saw him grazing several meters off at the edge of the sand track. When I called him, he walked away further, despite being hopelessly tangled in his reins to the point that he couldn’t lift his head above his knees. Seeing his predicament (my poor baby), I started running through the thick sand towards him, gasping and wheezing like the unfit asthmatic I am (because even if he is a #$@&%*!, I’d still be beside myself if anything ever happened to him). When I reached him, I found him basically handcuffed by his own reins. He had somehow managed to get them tangled around both front pasterns. He wasn’t too phased, though. Not being able to lift his head just meant he had a good excuse to catch a snack while I floundered around looking for the buckle. Helpful soul that he is, Moo decided to snatch up his leg every time I tried to touch the buckle. Thankfully I managed to avoid any knees to the eye or hooves on my toe (it would not be the first time), and when I finally got him untangled, Moo proceeded to drag me – wet, muddy, panting and exhausted – back to the yard.

We finished our schooling session in the lunge arena, where the ground is firmest. He worked perfectly. My saddle now has sand scratches. But honestly? He’s worth every moment. My horse may be a #$@&%*!, but that doesn’t stop him from being my best friends. Sometimes the best friends are the #$@&%*!: the ones who catch you by surprise, take you on adventures, and make you laugh. My horse is a jerk, and thanks to him, I’ve learned to always get by with a sense of humour. Thanks to him, I always have a story to tell. Thanks to him, I usually know how to sit a buck. But I guess now I need a refresher course on that.
My Horse is a #$@&%*!
My Horse is a #$@&%*!
Horse News More PB Articles About:  Polo the Weirdo,
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I thought we weren't aloud to use code words to block out bad words?
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Keep it classy polo. You forgot to blank out some of your swears. Nice example you're setting for the other players.
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Valkyrie  MOD 
This sort of article makes it very, very hard for us mods to do our jobs without looking like huge hypocrites. I am getting so frustrated with the content being published as "news".
  Oct 10, 2016  •  1,689 views
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Getting sick of the double standards this site has. This kind of thing isn't allowed on the forums. Great. I have no problems with that. However, if this is against the rules, it needs to apply to EVERY player in EVERY aspect of the game.
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I'm surprised this article is still up. Who proof reads before anything is posted
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