Post by danielee on May 23, 2009 9:20:59 GMT -5
Devonshire stood in the center of his roomy box stall, munching on leftover hay from his morning feeding. Several wisps of the greenish-tan timothy hay stuck out of his mouth at all angles; he was not a tidy horse when it came to eating. Devon watched the general goings-on of the barn with great curiosity, his ears pricked as to catch all of the sounds.
Winnie Sharphowl smiled as she went along with her daily chores, and came about to Devon's stall. Carrying his groom box in hand, she would coo softly, entering the box stall quietly, setting the box down in the corner. "Daily grooming service." She would say in an official tone, chuckling shortly after. "I'm so lame." Shaking her head, she would grab the curry comb, working it in circles across the gelding's coat.
Devonshire issued a greeting nicker as he spied the feline furre outside his stall. Devon thoroughly enjoyed being groomed, and he knew Winnie only brought good things -- food or grooming time. As she entered his stall, he did not move his feet, but craned his neck towards the assortment of grooming items she carried, curious to see what was in the box. When the currying began, he took a deep breath, snorting loudly in the process.
Winnie Sharphowl chuckled as she visually saw Devon relax with the process. "You're a good boy, aren't you? I haven't seen your owner around lately." Finishing with the currying, she would grab the hard bristled brush and move it in swift movements across his body, smiling as she watched the dead hair and dust particles fall off.
Devonshire finished the mouthful of hay and made no motion to grab any more. His eyelids grew heavy and drooped somewhat as he relaxed into the brush strokes; sucking up the attention like a sponge.
Winnie Sharphowl continued on brushing quietly, allowing the gelding to calm himself down, as if he was hyper in any way, shape, or form. Moving through the soft bristled brush, and lifting his hooves to pick them out, she would grab the mane and tail comb, "I have nothing better to do right now." Running the comb through the mane, she would move to the tail, taking it in sections and coming through it gently.
Devonshire's mane stuck out in a zillion different directions. Despite being a very 'stable' horse, Devon hated having his mane pulled, and as a result it was usually quite long and ragged. His tail was nothing special, coming to a natural end, not banged or otherwise altered. The gelding stood very quietly for the combing, however; as long as nothing was being ripped out, he was a happy camper.
Winnie Sharphowl. Female tried her best to leave every strand of hair in his tail and mane, however some did get pulled out from the tangles that may have been embedded in. Cooing softly if he 'acted' up from it, she would continued quickly, finally coming to an end. "There you go boy. Now if your owner ever decides to show up, you'll be good until tomorrow." She laughed as she put everything back in the box.
Devonshire shifted his weight as the grooming stopped. Devon turned his head to look at the furre, watching to see if she would perhaps resume the pampering sometime soon. He swished his freshly-brushed tail, testing it out against his rump.
Winnie Sharphowl smiled looking back at Devon, "Sorry boy. More horses need to be brushed and stalls mucked out. I'll visit later." Moving over and patting the gelding on the neck, she would smile, and move on to the next horse, peeking over at Devon every so often.
Devonshire stamped a hind-hoof as the girl left his stall. It seemed to him as if the grooming was over before it had even begun! He approached the bars of his stall and looked out after her longingly.
Winnie Sharphowl heard the stomping from Devon's stall, and chuckled. Moving out of the other horse's stall, she would move towards the feed room taking out a flake of alfalfa, and tossing it over the stall wall. "There, now I said I'd be back later!"
Devonshire shied away from the incoming hay, at first afraid of it. However, as soon as he identified the substance, the gelding immediately began to tear away at the flake, munching hungrily.
Winnie Sharphowl smiled as she went along with her daily chores, and came about to Devon's stall. Carrying his groom box in hand, she would coo softly, entering the box stall quietly, setting the box down in the corner. "Daily grooming service." She would say in an official tone, chuckling shortly after. "I'm so lame." Shaking her head, she would grab the curry comb, working it in circles across the gelding's coat.
Devonshire issued a greeting nicker as he spied the feline furre outside his stall. Devon thoroughly enjoyed being groomed, and he knew Winnie only brought good things -- food or grooming time. As she entered his stall, he did not move his feet, but craned his neck towards the assortment of grooming items she carried, curious to see what was in the box. When the currying began, he took a deep breath, snorting loudly in the process.
Winnie Sharphowl chuckled as she visually saw Devon relax with the process. "You're a good boy, aren't you? I haven't seen your owner around lately." Finishing with the currying, she would grab the hard bristled brush and move it in swift movements across his body, smiling as she watched the dead hair and dust particles fall off.
Devonshire finished the mouthful of hay and made no motion to grab any more. His eyelids grew heavy and drooped somewhat as he relaxed into the brush strokes; sucking up the attention like a sponge.
Winnie Sharphowl continued on brushing quietly, allowing the gelding to calm himself down, as if he was hyper in any way, shape, or form. Moving through the soft bristled brush, and lifting his hooves to pick them out, she would grab the mane and tail comb, "I have nothing better to do right now." Running the comb through the mane, she would move to the tail, taking it in sections and coming through it gently.
Devonshire's mane stuck out in a zillion different directions. Despite being a very 'stable' horse, Devon hated having his mane pulled, and as a result it was usually quite long and ragged. His tail was nothing special, coming to a natural end, not banged or otherwise altered. The gelding stood very quietly for the combing, however; as long as nothing was being ripped out, he was a happy camper.
Winnie Sharphowl. Female tried her best to leave every strand of hair in his tail and mane, however some did get pulled out from the tangles that may have been embedded in. Cooing softly if he 'acted' up from it, she would continued quickly, finally coming to an end. "There you go boy. Now if your owner ever decides to show up, you'll be good until tomorrow." She laughed as she put everything back in the box.
Devonshire shifted his weight as the grooming stopped. Devon turned his head to look at the furre, watching to see if she would perhaps resume the pampering sometime soon. He swished his freshly-brushed tail, testing it out against his rump.
Winnie Sharphowl smiled looking back at Devon, "Sorry boy. More horses need to be brushed and stalls mucked out. I'll visit later." Moving over and patting the gelding on the neck, she would smile, and move on to the next horse, peeking over at Devon every so often.
Devonshire stamped a hind-hoof as the girl left his stall. It seemed to him as if the grooming was over before it had even begun! He approached the bars of his stall and looked out after her longingly.
Winnie Sharphowl heard the stomping from Devon's stall, and chuckled. Moving out of the other horse's stall, she would move towards the feed room taking out a flake of alfalfa, and tossing it over the stall wall. "There, now I said I'd be back later!"
Devonshire shied away from the incoming hay, at first afraid of it. However, as soon as he identified the substance, the gelding immediately began to tear away at the flake, munching hungrily.