I’m a show horse.
Early in the morning they pull me out of my stable, away from grains and hay. I have to stand still and let all the brushes run on my skin. My tuft and mane are pulling and itching, my nose is sticky and stinky with that stuff they smear on it.
They want me to stand square, not moving an ear and if I raise my head they pull it down. But if I fall asleep they wake me up.
Hungry and bored, I have to stand and wait.
I’m neither allowed to talk to other horses nor to sniff at the humans that slowly walk around me during the class. I’m a little scared of how they stare at me.
This morning, while I was waiting for my turn to be stared at, my trainer leaned on my back, and took a nap. I could hear the same noise the gray gelding does during the night. I stood still and square, watching the other horses without moving a hair.
It didn’t take too long. Then the trainer woke up.
He brushed me again and said “I have all the work to do, while you just relax…”
I’m only a show horse; he’s the trainer.