Face Off

While the rest of the pack had been slavering over actually putting hands on their mustangs Joe was up to such amazing feats as running an extension cord out to his round pen. He had briefly surveyed the controlled chaos as some succeeded and others... didn't. It made his bones ache thinking about the foolish goings on so early in the morning.

He hefted the orange and yellow cords he had pieced together, unrolling them as he shuffled along from a socket set in the side of a building over to the biggest thorn he'd ever had to pull out his arse. And she just looked on with that walleyed look he had come to identify as uniquely her. The one that said 'I'm all foam, no beer'.

It took him longer than he would ever admit to tie the end of the cord to one of the corral's uprights. The foolishness wasn't the only thing that made his joints creak and put a shake in his wrists. With a well concealed triumph he finished off and plugged in the clippers he had already suspended over the feed bucket.

Today was the culmination of two weeks of pre-planning. The filly was well use to receiving unlimited hay by the time she had been handed off to him and he had continued the changes to her eating habits by sprinkling grain over the hay that was tossed in each day, slowly decreasing the hay to prepare her for a switch to a grain diet. For the last few days she'd been consistently eating from the feed bucket alone.

With a groan Joe bent to pick up the coffee can of grain by his unused equipment. The distinct shhh shhh of feed cascading into the bottom of the plastic bucket peaked the horse's interest. She was already halfway across the pen before the clippers roared to life. And oh my lord, they were the worst thing she had ever encountered since waking up this morning!

The old man hacked and snorted, finishing with a hearty spit. "Ya better get over it quick Peckerwood. You aint getting nothing else to eat until you finish what you've got."

He left her with that thought to chew on as he went back to rustle up a proper breakfast. Something that would stick to his ribs wouldn't be bad. Maybe a drink, he wasn't too picky now that he had nothing to do for the rest of his day.