My Horse, The Felon


So Ollie has made some bad life choices and made himself into a felon. OK, maybe not QUITE a felon by Texas statute, but he had enough of a crime spree to at least be guilty of a Class A misdemeanor. For the uninitiated, that’s $500+. Yeah.

So how did he enter the horse judicial system? Let’s have story time.

Earlier this week, Angela got up and started her day. She walked into the gray barn (There’s two. Ollie lives in the red one). As she walked down the aisle, something caught her eye, and she backtracked. What to her wondering eyes did appear? It wasn’t Santa’s sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. Instead, it was one fat-ass horse.

Adorable little asshole.
Adorable little asshole says what?

Before you get all “Awwww, isn’t he all cute laying down all sleepy and shiz,” a few things to note: 1.) All the horses were still out from night turnout (sans one), and 2.) That is not Ollie’s stall.

As Angela stared at him intently, Ollie made no effort to move, get up or appear contrite for his actions. So a few questions now came to her mind. First, WTF? Second, HOW? And third, OMG ARE OTHER HORSES LOOSE?

She went out to Ollie’s paddock, and didn’t immediately see damage at the front. Did he jump out? No…. no way. He’s not that motivated. And as she scanned the paddock, there it was. A giant section of electrified fence obliterated. And Ollie’s pasturemate Ernie shivering in the corner as if to say, “IT WASN’T ME. I DIDN’T DO IT. IT WAS ALL HIM. PLEASE DON’T BE MAD AT ME. I’M ADORABLE AND INNOCENT.”

Like, seriously how?
Like, seriously how?

SO of course Angela said we needed to talk about this. Until we did – during my lesson the next day – I spent that whole 24 hours certain we were being kicked to the streets, as this isn’t our first rodeo with the fence. I started working my PR-trained brain on how to spin Ollie’s destructive habits into a positive for the next barn. “He’s REALLY sturdy. Nothing bothers him. Not even fences. HAHAHA. Heh. Heh. Ugh. ::tap tap:: This thing on?”

But sweet Angela said although Ollie is a giant ass (yes), she still loves me. So Olls is in jail now until we figure out a solution to his assholery in turnout. This means that he can only have supervised turnout while I’m there, and I’m trying to ride him every day to get him out and about.

Ollie enjoying prison yard hour.
Ollie enjoying prison yard hour.

So yeah, my horse is incarcerated. He asks that you please send money to his bail fund or to his commissary account, but I’m not sure he deserves it. Do we think they make orange jumpsuits big enough for his butt?

I’d also like to know how in the fresh hell he did this without getting a single scratch on his body? God forbid we not puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the bit rubs again…. but he can run through fire and brimstone and nada? Shenanigans.

So pray for Ollie’s behavior, pray for my wallet and pray for Angela for her saintly acceptance of me and my douchenozzle of a horse.