Saturday, March 7, 2009

What's in a name?

I went to the barns yesterday in a foul mood from work. I saw May at the gate and I grabbed her to have a long grooming session prior to seeing about Sinari.

About an hour into my pony parlour work, I realised that the bouncing ball of fluff is due in about a month and a half. You can't really miss it, May is beyond huge and when you occasionally push, the baby moves or pushes back.

To keep the mood light hearted, I have a small contest at the barns going where if you guess the date and sex correctly I'll dole out a couple of bottles of wine.

But the other part of the fun with having any baby is naming.

It's the creative part of the paring (aside from the initial coupling), and I've had plenty of thought for it. The problem is every horse I've had so far has already come named (for better or worse). Going to shows is slightly painful at the moment because Sinari's full registered name is in Welsh, and is inevitably butchered. Repetitively. The problem is further compounded from my perspective as a writer. I love words, learning new ones, in different languages and the problem is that there's so many great words out there that roll off the tongue and feel just right.

I'm also slightly superstitious on the subject, believing that it's bad luck to change a horse's name and won't change the official name after initial paperwork. Even if its Skippamypantsoffhotstuff or Miss Muffet.

BoldFibonacci, Sante, Prosecco, Tabula Rasa, Verdict, Sui Generis, Oded, Ashima, Zulu, A Fortiori, Saccheri, the list becomes endless and even infinite when you start dealing with barn names.

So, I'm in a quandry, I orginally had three names picked out. But now the list has grown and I have choices and only one opportunity to put it to paper.

Between thoughts, I played a little with May. When I first got her, I was under the impression she never had anything done to her aside from producing babies and having a halter thrown on her.

I was very wrong.

First I broke out the clippers. I thought she would act up, but no, she let me do her feet her bridle path and her jaws. I pushed her further, throwing a sursingle and girth on her, expecting, again a blow up. No. She didn't balk, even walked around a bit with it.

Then I decided to re-introduce the trailer.

She's been slightly fearful of trailers ever since I got her, apparently they had to shove her in the trailer from North Carolina and it took an hour and a half to get her to her current spot. That's with the drugs.

So I walked up to the little blue trailer, swung it open and let her stand there. I sat down in it and just fed her a little bit of hay off of it. She was fine with this, coming closer to the trailer. There was a little bit of grain left over from when the guys were training the babies grabbed the little can and shook it at her.

And lo. She loaded. It was the shock of my life.

She stood there for a few minutes, and I unloaded her, praising her all the way back and on the ground. She got the rest of the grain and went back to the herd.

It infiniately cheered my day up.

Sinari is back to work. It's coming along.

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