A Wild Moment

The rangy mare stared at me from the safety of her shelter as I poked the handful of hay between the solid rails of the metal panels forming her corral.

The wild horse arrived at our farm a few days ago, chased from the stock trailer to be unloaded into sandy the security of her own space.

This was the fifth day I was trying to get the mustang to come to me. I could envision how her brown coat could glisten in the sunshine, along with her silky mane at some point in the, hopefully, near future. Right now, it was hard to look past the ribs under the dusty coat and the wind-whipped dreadlocks of mane. She had gone from roaming free in the Badlands with the wild herd, to spending months in an overcrowded corral. Now it was my job to tame the traumatized animal, making her into a suitable trail mount for humans. It was always a slow and tense start, trying to find a point from which to grow a foundation of trust.

Yesterday, she had taken a couple of steps toward me on the opposite side of the pen from her shelter. Would today be the day she made the complete journey to snatch the hay from my hand? I offered it quietly, while watching the mare contemplate me again with wild eyes and scent me with a blow of air through her widened nostrils.

I watched as she made her choice today.

The mare started walking. This time, she stopped in the center of the pen, put her head toward the ground and snorted as she made the decision. She pawed up some dust impatiently, then looked at me. She tossed her tangled mane and started towards me again, her strides bold.

My heartbeat picked up pace with each of her forward steps. I knew she could sense it and it might make her anxious, but I couldn’t help it. I never could. This moment was always a turning point. It could show our progress, or a need for more patience.

She stopped a few feet from me and the rails. She stretched her neck to sniff the hay I held out in my hand. After a moment, she reached for it, snatching a few strands gently with her lips. She chewed those while she stood and watched me with her pensive glare, but I knew she wanted more. She reached forward and grabbed the remaining mouthful from my hand, then turned and hurried back to the safety of her shelter.

I smiled widely to myself as I watched her chewing the tasty morsel at a safe distance from my potentially grasping fingers, which yearned for the moment I could touch her warm coat and remove the identification collar hanging from her neck.

But that's not my job today. Right now, it’s just about her. I turned around and walked lightly back to the barn.

***************************************************************

This was an original attempt at writing a piece for the “Minute” challenge. Although it shows a moment-in-time where there comes a big shift, the event takes place over many minutes, therefore, it doesn’t meet the criteria for entry. But I kinda like how it goes anyway! So, here it is.