Dear Cruiser,

I know you think those mares across the street are really pretty. I am particular to the paint myself so I see where you're coming from. But you are a gelding and you don't have to impress them with your semi-dressage trot. It just makes me fight you more to force you to walk and that gets very tiring very fast.

Also, you need to tell me who originally trained you. Your canter buttons are all messed up. I can't get you on the right lead unless I remember to reverse my leg positions.

Goof ball.

Love, your rider

Current Mood: sore

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Dear Tonkawa,

For kicking a person? I'm mad at you. You know better. For my little sister not kicking you back and making you see her as ranking above you? I'm mad at her. Now you're testing our mother again. I have noticed, however, that you are not testing me. Smart mule.

I don't think the little sister will even be handling you for a long while. Maybe you were the first to ever kick her? She sure seems to be afraid of you now, and you didn't even make a solid connection! (Heck, I'm still friends with the big Quarter gelding that left my entire upper leg turning fun colors.) The miniature left more marks on me before he stopped being afraid of humans, and now she won't even go near you. That's just.. funny. Yes, I laughed once I was alone after finding out what you did. Though I still don't know why you did it. I put water in your bucket with you in there all the time. I cleaned with you in the other night. Maybe it's because I thump you when your ears pin a little too flat for my liking. You will not back-talk me, brat.

All in all, you are a good boy. I'm going to break you to saddle soon. Consider that a warning. I'll have you under saddle by three, and pulling a light cart by four. Then, once I'm sure your knees are closed, I'll make you pull me places. Give you a job, boy.

This is what I get for falling in love with your cuteness at the auction. You have done so much good for my stallion, though. I love you, punk.

For all that you know,
Your Mother

P.S. You are two years old now. Stop with the "I'm a baby" because no one believes you, especially not the stallion you then attempt to bully.

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Dear Raphael,

I realize it has likely been four months since you were last rode. Me sitting on your back in the stall or while you're in the large shelter does not count. I would, however, appreciate it if you did not attempt to buck me off. Should I keep you on the long lines longer next time? You were so calm.

Perhaps you were angry because I asked you to trot so much? I know you love to canter - it is my favorite gate as well - but I refuse to canter on you until we are both ready. Which means I need to be able to sit your trot correctly, and you need to stop looking for airplanes. Besides, it's hard to buck and go forward when I pull your head around to look you directly in the eye, isn't it? I do admit, you have gotten a lot better with your feet. Last year this time you would have tripped and never been able to make a circle that tight. (That didn't get me off, either, did it? Silly.) Then again, I have watched you pretend to trip and succeed in dropping the girl riding you over your shoulder. I don't much like her either, so I am glad you did it. I know you have learned these tricks when you were young and your owner was an alcoholic, but it is not going to work on me. The more you try, the longer I will make you work.

I love you, my fuzzy teddy bear. You're such a brat, how could I not?

Your fellow prankster,
Me

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Dear Que,

I want to mention again how much I love you. I'm very, very sorry you were not able to be out much today. I know how much you love your field. I promise to clear the mares from the arena so you can run in it tomorrow instead of slipping on the ice.

Sorry I scared you tonight. I forgot I had my face covered, believe it or not. (More like I forgot how weary you are of strangers and how strange I was to you like that.) You did so good, though. I don't think I will ever trust another stallion as much as I do you. I doubt I will even trust another horse as much. Old man, I will miss you when it is time to part. Hang on another ten/fifteen years for me, won't you? Stay healthy, but above all, stay you.

Forever your girl,
Me

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Dear Horse,
Please eat sugar cubes and leave my fingers. I need my fingers for later, thanks. They tend to be useful when brushing you.
Thanks
Yours Truly.

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