His picture is at the end if you don't want to read the "story" I don't mind
We haven't quite decided on a name just yet. I spotted him out of about a dozen other mini's, most were plenty flashy enough... but he was the size I was looking for. It was clear he'd gotten the rotten end of a pair of scissors or clippers by his fo-hawk or maybe an Amish pony. He had the "look" for one. He had his head buried in the hay rack without much consideration for what was going on around him, getting shoved around by the other mini's who scattered when I walked toward him.
He needs "some" groceries and muscle, but I loved his 'lil white stockings and the white speck on his back. I got his head up and checked him out a bit. A little peppering around his eyes and a very novice guess at his teeth told me he was probably well into his teens. I stepped back while a couple other people climbed into the pen to check them out, making a beeline for #240 (my choice). Grabbing his face, opening his mouth and then a girl far too large for him "sat" on his back to see how he'd react. His head came up and his ears flicked back, but he didn't react, probably didn't know what to quite think. She checked out two other mares that were the same height as #240. Listening to her speak up she planned on bidding on #240 and one of the mares.
I hung back and checked him out a couple of more times. His patience and temperament for being shoved around was great. He wasn't dead, but I'm sure a lot of his energy was sapped by the fact he could use a little weight and plenty of muscle. I turned to my hubby and asked if I could put a budget to bid on him. He didn't hesitate. Every time before we picked a mini to bid on they soared passed our budget. However, a very nice riding mare who was quite loud sold for $875, so I had some hope.
The driving mares came through first and the gal that intended to bid on #240 and the mares never looked up, never paid any mind to them coming through. I was discouraged that she was planning to pursue #240 and she'd exceed my budget. There's a great understanding between my husband and I. He trusts me to stay in my budget on this once-a-year trip and in return he supports me if we manage to get one in budget.
They herded the rest of the mini's in, #240 was included. The highest bidder would get first choice. No one nibbled until the price got low enough and the girl started to bid, hubby elbowed me and gave me the OK to start bidding. Went back and forth about three or four times. We were $50 from my cap when she stopped bidding. I made my choice and she got second, she dismissed them and told them she didn't want any of the others. The guys here are pretty persistent... so she eventually decided on a silver dapple mare.
I'll be honest, the moment I realized he was mine my stomach dropped. What had I done? I had no where to quarantine him but our own house (a subdivision with no HOA and very good neighbors who supported my goats) I get anxiety pretty easily and started to stress out. A couple mini's were coughing in the pen and I realized I'd opened a can of worms. Washing my clothes before messing with my other horses, but at least he wasn't showing any symptoms. I'd never bought an auction horse and I realized I had quite a task before me.
We settled with the Auction House and went to go get #240. The seller had already started to load the mini's up and had to unload him (again). His attitude was different, his ears were up, eyes bright and quite a pep in his step, but all the while respectful. At least until we reached some grass, which he got quite feverish about. I don't think he ever left the hay pit in that pen. Trailers rattled by and he never batted an eye. We had a lady willing to haul him home for us (I had my pick-up and hadn't quite planned on a purchase other than the budget). She bought a larger paint mare. Loaded her up and then we got #240 on the trailer. She nailed the ramp about the time we closed it. My stomach flipped again, she was going to kill him kicking like that. He stood against the trailer wall and I felt horrible, but he needed to be out of there tonight (we're over an hour away). We made it three miles down the road before we had to do something. She was kicking the snot out of the trailer, rocking it feverishly. #240 managed to get in the front portion of the trailer (two horse straight loader), he patiently stood with a look of "This girl is NUTS!"
The mare started to stir again and #240 did what any normal horse did, he leaped out of the side door to get away from her. Instantly calm and checking his new surroundings out. A pretty sizeable cut on his right rear cannon bone my heart broke for him. This guy had come from OHIO, apparently went through New Holland, Orange Auction, and now this. The folks who bought the mare gave her a mild sedative to calm her down, but #240 had no interest in getting back in that trailer and we weren't going to put him back in there. A friend of hers pulled alongside us and offered a spot on his trailer, but I'd have to get him tomorrow (today). I wasn't comfortable with the fact I didn't know these people... but I had phone numbers and names and an address for pick-up, so we took the chance for his safety. He loaded up on the other trailer alongside two other horses who were very "welcoming" and quietly stood before they pulled away.
So with that all out there, meet #240... Supposedly he drives, but we'll see once we get some muscle on him and an evaluation
He was incredibly sweet and unphased by all the chaos. I'm leaving here shortly to go pick him up. He's quite proportionate, the picture kind of does him a disservice lol.
We haven't quite decided on a name just yet. I spotted him out of about a dozen other mini's, most were plenty flashy enough... but he was the size I was looking for. It was clear he'd gotten the rotten end of a pair of scissors or clippers by his fo-hawk or maybe an Amish pony. He had the "look" for one. He had his head buried in the hay rack without much consideration for what was going on around him, getting shoved around by the other mini's who scattered when I walked toward him.
He needs "some" groceries and muscle, but I loved his 'lil white stockings and the white speck on his back. I got his head up and checked him out a bit. A little peppering around his eyes and a very novice guess at his teeth told me he was probably well into his teens. I stepped back while a couple other people climbed into the pen to check them out, making a beeline for #240 (my choice). Grabbing his face, opening his mouth and then a girl far too large for him "sat" on his back to see how he'd react. His head came up and his ears flicked back, but he didn't react, probably didn't know what to quite think. She checked out two other mares that were the same height as #240. Listening to her speak up she planned on bidding on #240 and one of the mares.
I hung back and checked him out a couple of more times. His patience and temperament for being shoved around was great. He wasn't dead, but I'm sure a lot of his energy was sapped by the fact he could use a little weight and plenty of muscle. I turned to my hubby and asked if I could put a budget to bid on him. He didn't hesitate. Every time before we picked a mini to bid on they soared passed our budget. However, a very nice riding mare who was quite loud sold for $875, so I had some hope.
The driving mares came through first and the gal that intended to bid on #240 and the mares never looked up, never paid any mind to them coming through. I was discouraged that she was planning to pursue #240 and she'd exceed my budget. There's a great understanding between my husband and I. He trusts me to stay in my budget on this once-a-year trip and in return he supports me if we manage to get one in budget.
They herded the rest of the mini's in, #240 was included. The highest bidder would get first choice. No one nibbled until the price got low enough and the girl started to bid, hubby elbowed me and gave me the OK to start bidding. Went back and forth about three or four times. We were $50 from my cap when she stopped bidding. I made my choice and she got second, she dismissed them and told them she didn't want any of the others. The guys here are pretty persistent... so she eventually decided on a silver dapple mare.
I'll be honest, the moment I realized he was mine my stomach dropped. What had I done? I had no where to quarantine him but our own house (a subdivision with no HOA and very good neighbors who supported my goats) I get anxiety pretty easily and started to stress out. A couple mini's were coughing in the pen and I realized I'd opened a can of worms. Washing my clothes before messing with my other horses, but at least he wasn't showing any symptoms. I'd never bought an auction horse and I realized I had quite a task before me.
We settled with the Auction House and went to go get #240. The seller had already started to load the mini's up and had to unload him (again). His attitude was different, his ears were up, eyes bright and quite a pep in his step, but all the while respectful. At least until we reached some grass, which he got quite feverish about. I don't think he ever left the hay pit in that pen. Trailers rattled by and he never batted an eye. We had a lady willing to haul him home for us (I had my pick-up and hadn't quite planned on a purchase other than the budget). She bought a larger paint mare. Loaded her up and then we got #240 on the trailer. She nailed the ramp about the time we closed it. My stomach flipped again, she was going to kill him kicking like that. He stood against the trailer wall and I felt horrible, but he needed to be out of there tonight (we're over an hour away). We made it three miles down the road before we had to do something. She was kicking the snot out of the trailer, rocking it feverishly. #240 managed to get in the front portion of the trailer (two horse straight loader), he patiently stood with a look of "This girl is NUTS!"
The mare started to stir again and #240 did what any normal horse did, he leaped out of the side door to get away from her. Instantly calm and checking his new surroundings out. A pretty sizeable cut on his right rear cannon bone my heart broke for him. This guy had come from OHIO, apparently went through New Holland, Orange Auction, and now this. The folks who bought the mare gave her a mild sedative to calm her down, but #240 had no interest in getting back in that trailer and we weren't going to put him back in there. A friend of hers pulled alongside us and offered a spot on his trailer, but I'd have to get him tomorrow (today). I wasn't comfortable with the fact I didn't know these people... but I had phone numbers and names and an address for pick-up, so we took the chance for his safety. He loaded up on the other trailer alongside two other horses who were very "welcoming" and quietly stood before they pulled away.
So with that all out there, meet #240... Supposedly he drives, but we'll see once we get some muscle on him and an evaluation
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