Snipper Doo

Even though he's probably up there with one of my favorite horses at J's barn, Snippy might also be the death of me.

Snippy is J's 31 year old Quarter Horse gelding. He is the size of a Cadillac Seville, trained within an inch of his life, and still occasionally gives bronco rides and dirt parties to the little kiddos that take lessons on him here and there. I just love that horse, though. He just has that piss and vinegar look in his eyes that makes me do it...love him, that is.

The first time that Snippy almost killed me was a year or so ago. Snippy and a few other old timer geldings are pastured together in what is called "the gelding pasture." The gelding's pasture is attached to the barn yard area which has 2 other gated pastures attached to it. Each day the horses are sent out to their assigned pastures and closed off from the barn yard area so that nobody is able to paw, bite or tear the barn area apart (as horses tend to do). Anyway, on this particular day, I noticed the Snippy was just desperate to get up into the barn yard. He was pacing frantically back and forth and just working himself into a lather at the closed gate leading into the barnyard. It was hot and the black flies were out, so I decided that I'd go ahead and open up the gate to let the old boys in for some relief.


Good ole' Snipper Doo

I trudged out to the gate, and like an idiot began to push it aside for the geldings to come on through. Like a bolt of lightening, Snippy took off, hurled him self through the only partially opened gate; knocking it out of my hands and flinging it towards my awaiting head *BAM*!! Ouch, it hurt and gave me a black eye as well. Thanks Snippy! It was my fault, of course. I don't know why I didn't move Snippy back before opening the gate, I guess I just didn't feel threatened by a horse I'd never seen move faster than a snail. Apparently he can move when he wants to. He ran up to the barn entrance and waited for me patiently. I swear he knew exactly what he had done. The look in his eye said "Ha! You shouldn't have done that."

The next time Snippy was out for my blood occurred last Sunday. I was in a hurry, but had told J that I'd help her out with chores. Of course, being in a hurry is not the smartest thing when dealing with horses. Mistakes are easily made, and my jittery nerves were making me drop lead lines, knock things over and well, allow the wiley Snippy to outsmart me.

Again, it was a warm day and the black flies were out and about. Snippy, as he was the previous summer, was pacing the gate to get inside. "ah-ha" I thought to myself as I walked down the barnyard to let the boys up, "you won't be busting my face with gates this time, old man." Smartly, I grabbed hold of Snippy's halter before pushing the gate in. Well trained boy that he is, he backed willingly as I pushed the gate far enough back to allow the boys to enter the barnyard. Before letting Snippy go, though, I noticed that familiar look in his eye. It said "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I swear it did!

I released Snippy and watched as he turned on a dime and cantered on up to the barn door. Except....he wasn't heading to the barn door, was he? Nope - he was making a bee-line for the open gate beside the barn door. The gate that leads out to the open. He was making a run for freedom. Like an idiot, I didn't notice that someone had left the gate open. In fact, that gate is almost ALWAYS closed. Not that day though. Snippy was too far ahead of me by the time I realized that he was on his way out. I knew that it was too late to stop him. I ran just as fast as I could to keep the other horses from escaping. I got to the gate, latched it, then turned around to see Snippy heading towards the paved road the borders J's property at a fast trot....way faster then I've ever seen any QH trot, in fact. I would have laughed had it not been so terrifying.

"SNIPPY!" I screamed, but to no avail. Snippy trotted down to the road, alongside the road, cars passing and all, around a roadside small pasture that J has up front, then back down the other side of J's horse shoe shaped drive. He never slowed and continued to trot - me following way behind, until he entered the far side of J's humongous barn and right on back to the end of the aisle where he had no where else to go. There he waited, that same devilish gleam in his eye, for me to catch up.

Most horses would have stopped at some point to graze on J's lush, overgrown grass, but not Snippy. I am not kidding when I say that that horse has motive in every thing he does. Maybe that's what keeps him alive? The old coot! I suppose that's why I love the horse. He just has more personality in one hoof then most horses do in their entire bodies.

Another funny Snippy story is that he can escape his stall. His stall literally has to be chained shut or he'll make a break during the night and ransack the grain bins. He has no teeth, so he's unable to eat anything but watered down hay cubes, equine senior and pellets, but he sure tries anyway! Gotta' love him!