Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Battle of Wills

I'm watching a battle of wills, and I think there's a clear victor.  Ainsley has decided to clean her horse's feet.  Her horse, Sweet Baby Jane - whom I think was named by someone with a perverse sense of humor - has decided that she likes her feet just the way they are.  So 49 pounds versus 849 pounds.  It's been amusing to watch. 

Ainsley runs her hand gently down Jane's leg, just like I've taught her.  I can see her mouth the word "foot" from where I sit in the dining room, and I'm pretty sure I can see Jane snicker as she shifts her weight to said foot, refusing to budge.  Ainsley tugs, then pulls, harder and harder still, until Sweet Baby Jane turns her head and bites her in the butt.  Ainsley stands up and slaps her on the neck, mouths a word I'm fairly sure she's not supposed to say, and shoves the horse to the side.  Or tries to, rather.  It has the effect of a gnat running into a brick wall. 

So she tries another tactic.  She goes to the Janie's head and sweet talks her.  Murmurs some sweet nothings in her ears, strokes her blaze, and I'm sure compliments her only eye as bright and lovely.  Walks back around to try the foot again.  Nothing.  No response. 

She jumps up and down a few times, screaming in rage as I howl with laughter from the table.  Jane stands stoic at the trailer, swishing her tail in victory.

Ainsley rallies, narrows her eyes into Slitty Eyes of Death, and walks to Jane.  Her fists are balled by her sides and shoulders are hunched.  I don't know what she says, but Jane picks her feet up before Ainsley even touches her.  Maybe she wants to keep her only eye?  What I do know is this:  Ainsley can be scary when she wants to be.

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