He wobbled down the ramp, and as it was so dark, I put him in a stable rather than turn him out when he couldn't see his boundaries. I took off the transporters' headcollar and let him settle for a minute or two whilst I saw the lorry out on towards the next stop off. The headlights lit up my two horses, Ossie and Madge standing in the field gateway, and they looked so healthy and well in comparison with the little waif in my stable, it was hard to believe they were the same species.
I went back in to give him a feed and he was tearing into the hay with a vengeance, but as soon as I opened the door, he shot to the back of the box in a panic. He didn't understand the corner feed manger, so I had to fetch a rubber floor basin and put the food in that instead. He still wouldn't touch it until I had left the stable and shut the door.
I left him to it, so that both of us could get some sleep. It took me a while to drop off, I was worried by how small he looked, and scared he was. And what on earth had I done to take him on ....? In the midst of scrambled dreams and thoughts, I was awoken at 3.40am when the transporters called to tell me they were about to deliver me a horse! It took a minute to engage my brain and have them understand that they had dialled the wrong number and that I already had my horse, thanks!
It was with a fair dollop of trepidation that I went out this morning to give him a handful of grub and carrots and then turn him out. I was worried about the reactions of my two next door, how respectful he would be of the electric fence, how sound he would be and whether he would panic and run around blindly.
No worries......there was no chance of getting anywhere near him, let alone close enough to put a headcollar on him to lead him to the field. I had visions of him stuck in the stable for days, unable to touch him and build his trust!
I was relieved to see that he was not too small, just incredibly poor, but even so, there's still a long road ahead to restore him to health. I had a brief look in his mouth, and his teeth indicate to me he is a bit older than I thought, maybe six. But then, I don't really have a clue beyond a four year old mouth, so I'll wait for the EDT to pass judgement.
I left him again with his food, then came back and topped up his hay and water, and sat in the corner to try and have him accept me a bit. I don't know when he last ate or drank, but he consumed nearly half a bale of hay over night, and was wolfing into the next lot as if he'd never seen it before, and drank nearly half a black dustbin of water.
So, to cut a long story short, with loads of body language and carrots, and going in and out of the stable throughout the day, I managed to gain his confidence enough for him to let me put a headcollar on early this evening. He had become so confident with me and the carrots, it was heartbreaking to see him revert to a wreck as soon as I had a means of controlling him. I took it off and put it back on again several times, to try and break any association of using it as a control for him, and he accepted it better each time. I even managed to put the fly repellant on his neck and back, albeit with him shrinking and shaking.
Rightly or wrongly, I made the decision to put him out as grass is what his poor little body needs. I have sectioned off a paddock with a big shelter, he is adjacent to the other horses for company but not in any danger of being bullied. All my worries of the morning were still there, of course, but it had to be done.
Madge was first out of the barn with Ossie in hot pursuit. I was wary, as any new horse that Madge meets she tries to kill over whatever barrier is put in her way, including the electric tape, and both she and Ossie in the past have spent hours running up and down fences protecting each other from the invaders.
Unbelievably, the evil, rolling-eyed, flattened-eared witch-snake that lurks close to the surface of Madge's smiling demeanour failed to materialise, and as she politely introduced herself, so did Ossie. Stunned, I watched as they all meandered down the fence, had another chat, and started to graze happily. I can only assume that Fenix is so cowed by his experiences that he offers no threat whatsoever to them. He had a trot around, and appears to be sound and active, and then had a roll, which pleased me no end as he obviously feels a degree of safety to do that.
But he looks so emaciated standing beside them, the photos make him much fatter than he is.
I have now just been out to feed them tonight, and he is wary of letting me touch him again, but nothing like this morning. There seems to be a gobstopper sized lump on the outside his near hind pastern. Hopefully it is a knock and nothing more serious, but time will tell. I cannot get close enough to have a proper look as yet.
Fenix seems a very sweet person, I think he is quite intelligent, he appears to learn quickly, so hopefully we are off on the right track. He's at least got a chance now.
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