I think I've lost my job.
We went to get the mail today. I was... reluctant... to leave the greater stable area. That driveway is steep, and I really would prefer to stay near my mare herd. I knew Mother was frustrated with me, but I really wanted to stay at the barn. Finally, I gave in and headed purposefully down the drive.
Mother kept telling me I should walk. I guess my little slithery jog/shuffle doesn't count as a walk. I got to the first bridge when I heard the baying hound from hell echo down the hill. The neighbor's French mastiff, a giant chestnut beast with creepy amber eyes, galloped down the hill behind me. I tried to hurry up the hill, but Mother insisted I walk. The evil beast came closer, and barking in that horrible loud voice. I spun, in case I needed to attack. Mother yelled at the dog, then sort of at me, and turned me around to continue on.
I saw deer startle across the way. The mastiff started baying again. Then from the area of the land of small humans with the creepy garden, an ungodly noise began (Mother said later they were goats).
We began a living carousel. She said I would be pretty if I weren't such a pain in the hindquarters.
Mother was very annoyed with me. She stopped me finally, and unhooked my driving reins, and made me walk in hand all the way to the mailboxes. She gathered the mail, and re-lined me. I stood very still, like a good boy. As soon as I thought she was ready, I headed home at a purposeful walk. She chastened me and made me stop. She made me stop a lot on the walk home. I JUST WANNA GO HOME!
The hell dog was there at her yard, with her companion, an English mastiff who doesn't bark as much and so I like him better. I tried to hurry up the driveway hill, but again Mother insisted we just walk.
I thought it was great to be home, and surely Mother would feed me dinner, but she drove me in through the barnyard gate, closed it, drove me to the arena, in we went, closed that gate, and made me drive in there a while. Then she lunged me a little bit, too! Sure, it was only a few circles in each direction, but I thought we went home for dinner. I didn't think it would be all this work!
So I understand a lot of postal workers don't like dogs. I can certainly see why. That mastiff weighs more than I did when I was a foal!
I wonder if Mother would let me carry mace?