Editor’s note: We announced the 13 finalists in the 6th annual EN Blogger Contest last week, and now we’re bringing you their first round entries here on Bloggers Row. Each entry will be presented unedited for fairness’ sake. Thanks as always for reading, and please leave feedback in the comments section.
I believe my best friend said something along the lines of “that is my worst nightmare” after I informed her of your color, gender and breed. “And this doesn’t bother you?” asked your previous owner referring to the tail swishing, nipping and ear pinning going on while we tacked you up. No, it didn’t bother me, and you might just be my worst nightmare but you’ve taught me there’s nothing two gingers can’t do if they set their minds to it (so long as their minds are set on the same thing)
I want you to know I understand that your elbows are very sensitive but I assure that one touch does not warrant such dramatic squealing or that you nearly fall to the ground. And that I am only trying to help by cleaning various rubs or fungus or whatever small, little, teensey thing has irratated your sensitive redhorse skin and that breaking the crossties will just elongate the process.
I want you to know you stunning. But…no matter how pretty you are, once in a while, we all need a beauty day. To be brutally honest, you don’t pull off the long, floppy mane look quite as well as you may think. I encourage you to reasses your aversion for mane pulling, you go from feral to fourstar in a matter of minutes! Who knew you had a neck! I’m not sure I even want to discuss clipping, we both need some couch time when it comes to that subject.
Most of all, I want you to know you are forgiven. I forgive you for kicking me in the chin when I was trying to clip your back legs, even though you were sedated. For kicking the vet, it was ludicrous of her to expect you to stand up on that block! I forgive you for all the squeals, the bites, the pinned ears. For always using your hay as bedding instead of eating it. For the broken crossties and halters. I get it. It’s VERY hard to be a red horse and you’re right, what use are humans if they don’t have any cookies?
I remind myself that the special ones are often the quirky ones, the sometimes difficult ones. You’ve been my ticket. My ticket to a winter down south, to my first preliminaries, to compliments from complete strangers on “the nicest round I saw all day!”. Your talent, heart and sheer badassery far outweigh any so-called chestnut mareness. You are just further proof that #redheadsdoitbetter.
