A Circle Closes
6 March 2009 22:09![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glenatronI've probably mentioned Gem a few times in the past. With her bizarre behaviour, quirky mannerisms and oversize personality she's been a major part of our lives over the last few years. Today was her 21st birthday.
Gem belonged to our friend Liz and in her day she was a top flight competition horse, a well bred Hanoverian Warmblood with maybe a bit too much pedigree in her background ( and perhaps a few too many close relatives on that pedigree ) to stay entirely level-headed in all conditions. In fact her disposition was most reminiscent of a highly-strung russian contessa finding herself living in hard times.
Loose schooling was one of her fortes...
... particularly running off to a distant corner of the arena ...
... and flinging her head around wildly.
In the field she was frequently whimsical and prone to walking slowly to the furthest corner as you came to bring her in, or charging up and down the fence line demanding to be brought and then cavorting back to the barn with various legs flying in various directions, although she was seamlessly polite- she would never strike out with the leg nearest to you.
Some days she would lead out like a donkey and then when you got into her field spin and try to whip away without leaving any time to take her halter off.
In the stable it would be fair to say that she didn't weave. Aside from that I think she had pretty much collected the set of stable vices and added a few twists of her own, sticking her head out of the stable door and waving it up and down with her tongue stuck out sideways being a classic Gem trait.
Given all of this ( and the fact that sitting on her was a little like russian roulette ) it's surprising that everybody loved her quite as much as we all did. For some reason her quirks and big personality made her very popular with everyone on the yard and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sleepsy_mouse and I were always very happy to help bring her in or help with her care generally, which I think was a big help for Liz last December when she had a lot of other things going on and Gem was lame and colicking often.
Gem was always prone to colic, probably as a result of her constant compulsive windsucking, and this morning it finally caught up with her- apparently she went from happy and perky to lying down and thrashing in the stable over a couple of minutes. Her gut had twisted and even were she not an older largely retired horse there would probably not have been anything else the vets could have done aside from putting her down.
This evening the barn seemed very quiet without her making a fuss, jingling the chain across her stable and demanding scratchies from me. I was a favourite scratchy friend of hers and if I went over to say hello she would often hook her chin over my shoulder and yoink me in under her neck so I could scratch her chest and withers and she could groom my head and shoulders in an alarmingly toothy way or just stick her head straight out forwards and pull bizarre facial expressions. Or stick her head up as high as she could and nibble little Gemroglyphics into the walls. She was very fond of scratchies. And we were very fond of her.
Goodbye you dear, grumpy, bat-crazy mare. Things won't be the same without you.
Hug your horses, folks.
Gem belonged to our friend Liz and in her day she was a top flight competition horse, a well bred Hanoverian Warmblood with maybe a bit too much pedigree in her background ( and perhaps a few too many close relatives on that pedigree ) to stay entirely level-headed in all conditions. In fact her disposition was most reminiscent of a highly-strung russian contessa finding herself living in hard times.
Loose schooling was one of her fortes...
... particularly running off to a distant corner of the arena ...
... and flinging her head around wildly.
In the field she was frequently whimsical and prone to walking slowly to the furthest corner as you came to bring her in, or charging up and down the fence line demanding to be brought and then cavorting back to the barn with various legs flying in various directions, although she was seamlessly polite- she would never strike out with the leg nearest to you.
Some days she would lead out like a donkey and then when you got into her field spin and try to whip away without leaving any time to take her halter off.
In the stable it would be fair to say that she didn't weave. Aside from that I think she had pretty much collected the set of stable vices and added a few twists of her own, sticking her head out of the stable door and waving it up and down with her tongue stuck out sideways being a classic Gem trait.
Given all of this ( and the fact that sitting on her was a little like russian roulette ) it's surprising that everybody loved her quite as much as we all did. For some reason her quirks and big personality made her very popular with everyone on the yard and
sleepsy_mouse and I were always very happy to help bring her in or help with her care generally, which I think was a big help for Liz last December when she had a lot of other things going on and Gem was lame and colicking often. Gem was always prone to colic, probably as a result of her constant compulsive windsucking, and this morning it finally caught up with her- apparently she went from happy and perky to lying down and thrashing in the stable over a couple of minutes. Her gut had twisted and even were she not an older largely retired horse there would probably not have been anything else the vets could have done aside from putting her down.
This evening the barn seemed very quiet without her making a fuss, jingling the chain across her stable and demanding scratchies from me. I was a favourite scratchy friend of hers and if I went over to say hello she would often hook her chin over my shoulder and yoink me in under her neck so I could scratch her chest and withers and she could groom my head and shoulders in an alarmingly toothy way or just stick her head straight out forwards and pull bizarre facial expressions. Or stick her head up as high as she could and nibble little Gemroglyphics into the walls. She was very fond of scratchies. And we were very fond of her.
Goodbye you dear, grumpy, bat-crazy mare. Things won't be the same without you.
Hug your horses, folks.
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no subject
Date: 6 Mar 2009 23:23 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 03:59 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 22:57 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 12:05 (UTC)well if you ever miss scratchies heros behaviour is pretty much exactly the same as Gems! ( this is why i am now covered in horse hair )
no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 14:08 (UTC)She kinda reminds me of dash with all her antics. I know how endearing that can be.
no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 22:58 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 21:02 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Mar 2009 23:02 (UTC)Two hours, from what I recall, the poor groom was stood there, terrified.
no subject
Date: 8 Mar 2009 17:54 (UTC)no subject
Date: 16 Mar 2009 22:08 (UTC)