[PHASE 1] No Touchy

It had been almost two years since Harper brought home phoenix and now she was back again in the sweltering Nevada heat. Just like she had the year Phoenix and her crossed paths, she had volunteered at the sagebrush sanctuary to help loshenka’s in need. The makeover event was run again this year as well, and it had gotten very popular. Harper had signed up again, but luckily most horses could be placed with volunteers quickly and her application did not need to be filled yet. She hummed a little tune as she dug her pitchfork in the bedding of the stall she was currently cleaning. Despite most horses that came in being homed with volunteers, there were some permanent residents of the sanctuary that also needed care. Which was why she had happily volunteered again now that Phoenix was well again. 

Harper couldn’t deny it; being here again brought back memories of the terrible shape the buckskin mare was in when they first met. The grim figure she had struck back then was a stark contrast to the gorgeous golden sheened mare that now roamed her pastures. She finished up the stall and wiped the sweat off her brow. While the outside was often cool to even chilly because they were so close to the mountains, the stalls got fairly warm despite the air conditioning.

—-

Footsteps echoed down the empty walk and Harper looked up. “Harper? We just got one in and we’d like you to take him if you think you can handle him.” The sanctuary’s manager offered her a small smile. Harper nodded. “Give me a minute to clean up and I’ll be right outside” She promised, making quick work of putting the wheelbarrow and pitchfork away and wiping her grimey palms on her jeans.

“Ah! There she is” the manager exclaimed as Harper exited the stable building. “He is currently in one of the grass paddocks. He was voluntarily surrendered by his owners as he was-” she squinted at something written on the clipboard in her hands. “- untrainable, aggressive and dangerous” She flipped through the sheets of paper. “We asked a few questions and found out that he is actually a young stud, barely four years old and they decided to start him early; they found out that he is very headstrong so they send him to a ‘trainer’-” she accentuated ‘trainer’ with air quotes, “- that is notorious around here for their downright abusive training methods. The vet is on the way now and the dentist is also being called as we speak. He is very stressed out and our volunteer was almost kicked out of the stall they had him in. I honestly find it sad to think of the things they might have done to this poor guy to even get that quack on his back” She let out an angry huff.
“Anyways, we most likely didn’t get an honest report from his previous owners, obviously, so please do handle him with care. Other than that he seems relatively healthy, so you can take him home as soon as the vet and the dentist have cleared him.” She finished. Harper nodded pensively. “Would it be possible to have him chemically castrated* for the time being if the vet checks him anyways? It would allow me to pair him up with phoenix and maybe it also helps with his behavior a little; I don’t think it would be beneficial to put him through surgery right now and maybe it will even prove to be unnecessary in the future. If he was intended to be a stud, maybe he can still be.” She reasoned. The manager nodded. “I’ll give the vet a call, see if we can make that happen. He is all the way in the back, maybe you can see if you can do some bonding with him before the vet actually arrives. The volunteer ended up roping him so maybe you can see if you can put a halter on him” the manager handed the clipboard to Harper before picking her phone from her pocket and walking off. “I’ll come find you when I know more!” she promised. 

Harper made her way to the paddock indicated on the sheet in the manager’s neat handwriting. His previous owners hadn’t communicated much information. They barely got a year of birth, intended occupation of the stallion and the last time he had been vaccinated. Half of the surrender form was left empty. Harper wasn’t surprised they decided to take the stallion anyways if he was so out of control at their facilities. She reached the paddock and saw the gray colored stallion staring at the gates of the paddock. His ears flicked flat against his neck and while his stance didn’t change, she visibly saw the stallion tense. “Hey there buddy, you’re fine now” She promised, but she observed that even as she walked on, the stallion’s focus was now trained on her. She unclipped the halter from the fence and patted her pocket. Good, she had some treats left.
She slipped through the fence and immediately the stallion’s demeanor became reactive; Front legs swung up high while a loud scream echoed across the fields. Harper quickly kneeled, making herself small in hopes of convincing the stallion she wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay boy, it’s okay” The stallion landed on all four legs again. Head held high, nostrils flared and still incredibly tense. Harper slowly rose, but the stallion repeated the rearing and screaming as soon as the halter reached chest height. Almost reflexively Harper swung the halter behind her back, hiding it from view and sinking into a crouch again, hand up as some sort of protection. “Shhh it’s okay boy, I’m not here to hurt you” she promised, keeping her tone soft. She slowly lowered her arm and fished a treat from her pocket, offering it to the stallion on a flat palm. The stallion tossed his head up as the hand came closer, not quite startled enough for a bigger response, but showed no further interest in the treat. His blue eyes were piercing as he stared down the human woman.

Harper sat for a while, arm outstretched, but it quickly became obvious that the stallion wanted nothing to do with her whatsoever. She put the treat away again. “What to do with you?” She wondered out loud, being met with a loud snort from the stallion, almost sounding mocking. Harper stifled a laugh and the stallion’s ears perked forward ever so briefly. So far it seemed like the stallion didn’t associate humans with abuse per se, but there was something about them directly approaching him.
Harper breathed deeply and adjusted her body slightly in an attempt to stop her leg from falling asleep. She had been sitting in the paddock with the stallion for almost an hour. The stallion’s head snapped up again at the sudden movement and Harper once again met his anxiety with soothing affirmations. The stallion had slowly relaxed over the past hour, but something told Harper that this guy would once again need a lot if time, just like Phoenix had. The difference, however, was that the buckskin’s issues had been mainly physical. Tracking the progress of the splashed gray stallion’s mental healing journey would without doubt be more of a challenge.