Mohammed meets the Three Stooges

I now own 4 horses. For some reason, 3 didn't seem to be a bad number. But, man, 4, I think, is the critical digit where fun suddenly transforms into work. And it's because the new guy, Mohammed (I love that name for my new Arab horse), is having difficulty fitting into the scheme of things. My herd is attacking this interloper, and I'm hoping we haven't started a renewal of the Crusades here, Muslim vs. Christian. Mohammed is outnumbered 3 to one. And he's also the smallest of all four.

I think it's all the mare's fault. My sweet adorable mare, Moonlight Princess, the horse I've loved and owned since she was 6 months old. I've never seen her go after another horse before; never even seen her agitated at one. That was until I bought Mohammed to the barn. Now things have drastically changed.

I've done this before, bring a new horse into the yard. For some reason my 3 horses, Rebel, Dance Line, and Moonlight Princess, have bonded beyond the point of anything comparable in the annals of threesome history. They have gone past the Three Musketeers or the Three Stooges or even the Marx Brothers, in being united and one for all and all for one, although they are just as funny and just as dangerous together. When I did try leasing a new horse, another Saddlebred, two years ago, they excluded him so much from everything, that the poor horse started losing weight (and this was on a frame that could not afford to lose anything) to the point where I had to return the horse to it's owner, with my sincere apologies. They intentionally wanted to kill the new horse and almost succeeded in doing so.

Now, Mohammed, he's doing better than that Saddlebred. He's a scrapper, and for his small frame, I'm quite impressed. He's already giving Rebel a black eye, completely swollen shut, and Rebel has a couple of cuts on his back legs, definitely from hitting a fence or running into something because of the new guy in town. And Rebel is my Groucho; he's the preferred leader of the threesome (OK, maybe, there were actually 4 Marx Brothers). Princess isn't doing much better. One of her eyes was also swollen shut. And her sweet, innocent demeanor seems to have changed completely into the Bitch from Hell, who is taking no prisoners. Yesterday, when I let her out of her stall, she immediately charged towards Mohammed, in a flat out gallop, as if she was in a riderless jousting match. And it was a joust to the Death. This has all become way too much for me to handle.

I've nicknamed Mohammed: Scrapper. Because he is. Even though he weighs less than any of them, he doesn't have one cut or scratch anywhere. And no swollen eyes. Now, Dance Line has become "The Mediator." I'm not sure who he's protecting, but what he does is he puts his awesome frame (he looks like a horse and a half next to the other two) between Princess and Mohammed. Maybe I should call him "Bubba" (I'll never insult Dance Line enough to call him "DUHHHHHHbeya") since he seems to be attempting to negotiate peace in the Middle EAst, all in my backyard.

Anyway, lots of excitement going on lately. How it will end is any ones guess. I just know I'm making more trips to Home Depot lately replacing all those fence boards and posts that have become casualties of war. The Crusades are alive and well in Central Florida. I hope it all ends soon.

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