Hollering, Posing, and A Horse Trailer

He screamed his face off and just about pulled the fence post out of the ground.

Wyatt, you’re okay buddy, I told him while I saddled up Jon Snow.

Wyatt leaped around and broke his collar trying to get back into the paddock with Bosco and Sharkey. I fixed his collar and untied him from the post and we were off. He hollered a lot. A lot-a-lot. Really freakin’ loud. Sticking his tongue out and belting out his displeasure. Some neighbors came out of their houses to take pictures of us going by. How could they not? You could hear him Hollering from a mile and a half away. He balked and yelled for a solid ten minutes and pooped on my shoe, but then he started to settle down.

Mom took Jon Snow and he was nearly a perfect angel. He walked along nicely and did as he was told almost the whole time.

We got to the end of the block where Wyatt stopped and refused to move again. After a minute we realized he was looking at his own reflection in a window of a house. Admiring. Posing.

I am lookin’ good. Goooood. He nearly said out loud.

We finally got him away from himself and he was really good after that. He stayed right with Jon Snow and only panicked when we walked past a dog or a horse, or if a car drove by. But he didn’t get away from me and he settled down again pretty quickly after each Panic-Attack. No Ativan Required.

Wyatt had so recently graduated to wearing a collar, and here he was walking around the whole great big block!

We’re going to sell the stock rack asap. Mom’s feeling so glad it didn’t break out her teeth. I feel so glad it didn’t fall on top of her and pin her.

Mom bought a Horse Trailer from the neighbors so no one ever has to deal with the damned stock rack ever again. Sophie and I are daydreaming about spray painting it with Rustoleum. A lovely blue and silver. All shiny and giddy and ready for goats. Jeanette put the horse trailer out in the back with the goats and left the doors open on it so the goats could explore. They’ve been going inside to hang out. Getting used to it. Now no-one-has-to-load into the truck ever again!

Which means no more goat shit in the back of the truck.

Which means no more trouble at the car wash.