I have my three weanlings stalled in the barn and last night beforeIi went to bed (in the barn!), I picked up a halter and "played" with all of them.
On the last colt, Emmett ~the Bert bred colt~ I was delighted but surprised when he tucked and reached his nose into the halter that I held out for him.
I haven't fooled much with this group of colts, and last week this same fella had slipped over to another pasture in search of his dam. It took me quite awhile to bring him out of there: he was singularly focused on his dam. Eventually (and without a big Rodeo) my persistent consistence finally reached his brain and then it was only a few minutes before we moved together from the pasture.
So last night I didn't know what to expect (probably a good state of mind for all of life!) but when I lifted my lead hand up while I stood by his side, Emmett brought his head around to me with grace and full face, his soft eyes questioning me. I raised my other hand toward his hip and with a deep reach under himself, this little weanling slide around with elegance and smoothness.
When these little things are so beautiful, the immense significance overwhelms me and I think to myself- "Omigosh, get out of here before you ruin it!"
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