Rebellious Mr. Bones has trouble adjusting

Regina and I provide grass and water and roaming space for Paso Fino geldings and in exchange we get to ride and play with the horses.

Playing with someone’s horses is far better than owning them, except when the owner sells a favorite.

We give the horses a temporary name that describes them physically. They are good horses, some of them at least, with asking prices of thousands of dollars.

Then, there is Mr. Bones, who joined Blackie and Blaze about a month ago. Nothing’s been the same since.

Mr. Bones was one of three horses replacing Buckskin and Star. Bones, for short, showed up unexpectedly along with Rabbit and Pretty Boy.

Bones is bones. We assumed he was a rescue horse and were sympathetic to his condition and singled him out for extra feed and attention.

Rabbit has a pink-on-white nose. He’s ugly but gentle.

Pretty Boy, under different circumstances, would make any mare drool.

Bones challenged Blackie’s dominance and now they make hand-feeding them their favorite sweet feed dangerous. A pair of horse choppers well placed in another horse’s backside can get you accidentally trampled.

So we are giving Mr. Bones back. He’s not a rescue horse after all. He’s just crazy and mean, having been that way ever since his gelding.

“Something went wrong psychologically, and he developed stomach ulcers,” was the owner’s unscientific explanation.

He thought that giving Bones space to roam and to come to terms with his lowered expectations in life might bring the rebel around.

“Do you believe that psychological and ulcer stuff?” Regina asked me.

“Sounds entirely logical,” I replied.