We’ve all seen the horse trailers go by. The big luxury boxes, the dinky ones you barely notice, they’re everywhere (especially in the countryside).
One would think that with so many of these vehicles about, loading a horse into one is a doddle.
Introducing; The Horse.
Other equestrians will know the pains that come with leading a half-ton beast into a metal box on wheels. But for those who don’t know, let me give you an idea.
Initially, The Horse got in with only a little protest. Several months later I decided I wanted to go on a fun ride. Getting to the ride wasn’t too difficult. A little delay getting in the trailer, but allowable considering how infrequently The Horse travels.
We completed a great fun ride, untacked and got ready to leave. All that was left was to load The Horse and his friend in the trailer.
Horse and trailer were ready and I led him up to it.
“Ooo, what we doing?”
“Come along, horse, let’s get in the box.”
“In here?”
“Yes.”
“OK.”
Front feet were in, back feet were about to follow.
“Actually…”
“Horse…?”
“I don’t like it.”
“What?!”
“I can’t go in there.”
“Horse, come back!”
I quickly find myself over powered as The Horse rapidly backs away. It’s moments like these that make you realise you are basically just a dog on the end of a string, with no power over your horse at all. If they want the upper hand, they get it.
Then began the painful process of persuading The Horse to get in the box.
“Put your front feet on.”
“Yup.”
“Now the back ones?”
“Nope.”
“Sure?”
“Yup.”
“Just one step…? PLEASE?!”
“Nope, NoPe, NOPE!” The Horse rapidly backs away, head in the air, nose barely missing the box ceiling.
It’s important to note that we were in a very big field filled with lush dairy grass. The Horse had also just completed a 3+hours ride. In the battle of food versus home, there was only one answer.
“Can I eat now?”
“No. Get in the box.”
“Just a bite.”
“No!”
I was getting increasingly frustrated which really wasn’t helping.
“Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not angry horse.”
“You are though.”
“I’m NOT…”
“…I’m still not getting in there.”
The trailer was moved beside a hedge, so one escape route was blocked. A kindly fellow equestrian came to assist, and after a further half hour of mixed persuasions and half a pack of ginger biscuits donated by said equestrian, The Horse would still not load.
We tried putting his friend in the box first as a temptation, but The Horse was totally uninterested.
Three hours later, we were the only ones left in the field. I was embarrassed, frustrated and about ready to make The Horse walk home. But Dad wanted to have another go. He took the lead rope from me and standing in the box began easing The Horse towards him.
“Come on, horse. Let’s get in the box.”
“In there?”
“Come on. Look, it’s so nice.”
“I don’t think ‘nice’ quite describes it.”
“But then we can go home…”
“Well… I do like home… Stand back, I’m getting in!”
And just like that, The Horse strode into the box like the last three hours never happened. I wanted to weep with joy and frustration, and yell at Dad for doing what I couldn’t.
The Horse had put me through hell, but at least we could finally go home.
Since this event, loading times have gradually improved – the shortest being 10 minutes. This however, is a far from reliable time span. Therefore every time The Horse needs to get in a box, nobody knows how long it will take.
It’s Just.
WHY?
THREE. HOURS.