Mother thinks I am fat. Too fat. She tells me this on a regular basis. I am not sure that would be good for my morale, if I were a lesser animal, but I know I am beautiful, so I am undaunted.
I enter into evidence, exhibit number 1.
Exhibit number 2.
What, may I ask, appears to you to be superfluous? Is this not the embodiment of equine grace and beauty?
Apparently... this is what Mother sees:
So I am in a modified fat camp. She ground drives me a few days a week, and now she even lets me long line trot around her. She figures my joint can deal with the exercise, since I run around on my own anyway. "Since I run around on my own anyway"... So how is this supposed to help me lose weight?
Note the plant hanging off my lips, despite Mother's attempts at grazing check reins (the funny looking purple things from belly to halter).
Do you like my Contraption? That's what Mother calls the creepy pole thing.
I have pulled it twice so far driving, and once before that being led. It's not so bad. I had pulled the poles without the connecting bit in the back a lot of times over the months, so it wasn't a big deal. In fact, the connector seems to smooth out the jostling of the poles.
Mother says she wants to get a harness to teach me more, although I may never end up doing "everything". That sounds kind of creepy, plus I am not sure what a harness is anyway. She has stuck a breastplate and crupper on me before, and hung straps all over me (which I don't really like, but tolerate because they don't really hurt me). She said a harness is kind of like that, but better. It better be better.
All this to earn a few cookies at the end of the day.
Sometimes, domestication is such hard work...