Makeover phase 1

It was dark, not due to the early morning, but the storms that were rolling in. I knew it wasn’t going to be the best day to look at and bring home a new horse. 

When I got there, the rain was pouring and thunder was roaring. Flashes of lightning lit up the road as I turned into the sanctuary. I pulled up close to the doors and got out. 

The office was entertained by volunteers and other people looking the rescues over. I was handed a file of Loshies to look over. 

I saw one, his intake picture showed an angry stallion ready to bite. His ears pinned back and he bared his teeth. I didn’t want to take an angry horse. I didn’t think I could work with that much tension. But I know what happens when they can’t be helped, and that’s all I needed to remind myself of. 

He was a greying chestnut, dappled on his chest and back. A beautiful red tail, two front white socks and brown eyes. 

After showing the volunteers which one I wanted, they exchanged glances of concern. 

“He’s out in the pasture, I’m afraid. We couldn’t keep him in with the others.” He’d kicked another rescue, and been separated. Unfortunately, when the storms started, he was the only one they couldn’t get out of the rain. 

We went out to the smaller quarantine pasture, and there he was. Tall, at least 17 hands, well muscled, pacing and snorting. He was bucking and kicking his feet, the power in his strike was crazy. This horse could easily get out. 

How could we get him? Even if I didn’t want to bring him home, surely he would end up hurting himself out here in this severe a storm, acting the way he was. 

Was he angry? Was he scared? Fearful or hateful? Hid adrenaline had to have been high, what with the loud cracks of thunder and violent strikes of lightning. He embodied the storm. Powerful and fascinating.