Prime's First Treat

The muscles of a well conditioned race horse rippled under a translucent red/brown coat as he came down the ramp of the shipper's trailer. Everything about this horse was picture perfect; his conformation, his condition, the way he moved. They shipped him with no leg protection and a ratty halter, typical for a trainer not wanting to give up his position training a decent horse. The shipper handed him off and I gladly led him down the isle way to the waiting stall.

That day and the days following his arrival, this horse had no personality. It was as if we had a beautiful robot standing in a stall. He ate, he pooped, he stood emotionless, uninterested. He wasn't friendly, his eyes were dull, and he had no idea what a treat was.

It was a night that my father was racing and I had fed the horses. I stood on a bucket in Mister's stall braiding his mane and talking to him incessantly about nothing. We had a show the next morning and he had been clipped, bathed, and was now in the process of being braided. I was on my second braid, still babbling away when I had this feeling I was being watched. I looked up and across the isle way. There stood Prime at his stall door watching me with interest. As I talked, his ears moved. His soft brown eyes looked sad, but curious and he moved his lower lip as if he was eating.

I climbed down from my bucket and out of the stall. Approaching him with my hand flat, I offered Prime a treat. He ducked back into his stall and hid in the corner. Disappointed, I went back to braiding and talking to Mister. Prime came back to his stall door to watch and listen to me interact with Mister. He seemed fascinated. His ears flipped back and forth and he watched my every move. His lower lip flapped and his eyes brightened. This was my first glimpse at Prime being a real horse. I finished up the braiding, gave Mister a kiss on the nose, and offered Prime another treat before closing up the barn for the night. He refused the treat and went back to hiding in his stall.

The next morning, dressed in my show clothes with sweats on over them, I entered the barn and began loading my things in the horse trailer. I was on my second armload of stuff, when my father stopped me and gesturing towards Prime's stall said, "You forgot to feed that horse last night. Not only did you not give him his grain, you forgot to toss in his hay."

I felt horrible. Forgetting that Prime didn't eat treats, I grabbed a handful of peppermints by habit and entered his stall to apologize. There he stood in his corner dully munching on hay. I stroked his muscled up neck and scratched up by his mane. Prime turned and looked at me with his big brown eyes full of curiosity and I swear they brightened just then. I offered the treats in my hand and fidgeting with them with his lower lip for a moment, he took them from me. Prime had just eaten his very first treats.