Two peas in a pod

Prize arrived on Saturday. It’s hard to describe what it is like to having a horse come back after so many years. I couldn’t stop smiling all day at work on Friday. Saturday I was bouncing off of the walls and wanting to make everything perfect. I had Prize’s halter, photos of her as a yearling/weanling, and her old tack box with her name on it with a backwards Z (from when I was in high school).

Prize arrives

Prize backed off of the trailer like a champ and looked around. Gena walked Prize over to Isis so they could meet. Isis arched her neck. Prize didn’t look impressed. They both squealed and struck with their front legs.

Isis and Prize

Isis and Prize meet for the first time

What I wasn’t expecting was how much they looked alike: same build, same rumps, and two back white stockings. It says volumes considering their ages: Isis is 17 and Prize will be 25 in May.

Prize’s first night was spent in a paddock with Isis in an adjoining area. They went nose to nose again, turned and kicked at the same time — and both hit a board in the fence in the same location (at a knot of course) and split it. No damage to either horse (just impressive noises). I spent most of the remaining daylight helping fix the fence. Silly girls.

Before I left on Saturday, I helped Chris, the barn manager, throw hay. We were walking through Isis’ paddock to give the horses hay in the field next door. Chris gave me some flakes to toss to Prize. I called to Prize and Isis immediately walked over with her “you are my Mommy why are you near HER?” look. She squealed at Prize (20 feet away on the other side of the fence) and Prize squealed at Isis (20 feet away on the other side of the fence).

By Sunday afternoon, the two of them were walking the fence with each other and acting like a little herd.

On Sunday, Prize walked along the fence when I free lunged Isis. Not trotting or
upset, just staying with us while we worked. When I took Prize to the round pen
to play with her, she hollered and carried on for Isis. Isis hollered back. Prize ripped around the round pen like a mare half of her age. I caught her and we did some walk and whoa and basic ground work. She remembered so many things that we used to do (including standing up in halter). I couldn’t stop grinning.

You can always tell if a horse is happy: their eyes, their demeanor, and their body language tell you volumes. Prize looked fabulous and happy. It is so obvious how much she has been loved and cared for. Prize gives Gena kisses. 🙂

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