…you’re late to an appointment with your vet and the new assistant laughs when you show up (vet is already with horse). He said he knew a girl owned the horse because it was so incredibly spoiled. Well, um…slightly embarrassing! So my horse is a big goober - he just loves me. It’s not my fault he’s like a dog. Right? Doesn’t everybody spoil their horses? 
he tries to frisk everyone who walks by for treats! 
You know your horse is spoiled when…
- You buy/don’t buy items based on how “pretty” they’ll make him look.
- You find yourself speaking to him in tones usually reserved for human significant others: “Oh Honey, what’s wrong?” “Sweetie, come here.”
- You make excuses for naughty behavior. (Said to farrier after horse has nipped him and offered to kick): “He says he’s bored and wants to be done now.”
Smart Alec, mine does that too – as soon as she hears my voice, she’s nickering and walking in quick circles around her stall then standing at her door like she hasn’t been fed in days. She does the same thing if I arrive and she’s turned out. Comes trotting up to the gate, nickering waiting for a pat, a scratch between the ears and a treat!
He thinks anyone wearing a backpack is stuffed to the gills with peppermints and wheels around in the schooling area, on the way to a jump, to chase after a backpack.
He always somehow ends up in the stall next to the cooler at horse shows. That way, he gets treats not just from mom, but from anyone who gets a sudden urge to drink gatorade.
AHC and Smart Alec- mine do that too. They also act highly insulted when Mom is slow unwrapping peppermints.
One of my guys used to live across from the candy machine in our barn. The sound of quarters going into it made him wild- he’d nicker, shout, and pace until he got Tostidos.
Another lived acoss from the kitchen area and would actually nicker if someone cut something on the cutting board- he associated the sound with fruit being chopped for him.
Doesn’t everybody walk around with a backpack full of peppermints?? 
Hi Sallylou, I got two great pictures of you from Lexington. One from the table at the Grand Prix Party with F and the other talking to H at the ingate. When will you be showing next? Also I have a story about Socrates and the person “you should really take some tips from!!!”
Email me!
Your friends at the barn want “to come back” as one of your pets.
When he has that itch he can’t reach and he turns and stretches part way to it and then gives you the “look”…and you promptly reach under his belly and find just the right spot for him. Then he does the wiggly nose thing. And you go ahhhhh.
When his shelf in the feed room looks like a GNC store. And your cupboard has peanut butter and a spice or two.
When you are drowning in the downpour for lack of a good winter coat, while trying to get his all-weather blanket on before he gets wet and chills…
There is no other place on the earth that you would rather be, than standing next to him in that sometimes smelly stall, just you two together, snuffling noses.
He has a trunk just to carry his toys to the shows.
You spend hours cooking and baking spcial treats for him.
He can bite and kick and gets a treat.
Nothing he does is ever wrong!!!
You get on you hands an knees to test the footing at shows if questionable.
You guard the stall if a big storm comes by at the show.
You go back for night check and then go to the 24 hour walmart to get fresh apples and carrots and then go back to the hotel to warm them with spices return to the barn and stay until past 1 a.m to give treats.
You consult psychics, and chiroprators, acupunturists, and are paying for their summer homes!
Your horse has a simple cut and you faint.
You slash your trainers tires and call the police and a guidance couselor when your trainer says it was your horses fault!!!
When you have a geriatric horse and you buy a farm just so you have a place to bury him when the time comes.
msj
I would like to be Moesha’s hypothetical person’s horse!!! 
~Erin Lizzy
Visit my Website!
No matter how rough things are, it could always be worse! 
When he spots you 100 feet away coming to catch him in the pasture, and immediately begins performing his tricks in anticipation of being stuffed with carrots.
Ok Moesha I told you not to make fun of how I treat “Zena I’mgoingtokickyourbuttprincess”!
But I will admit that having my husband build her a new 12x16 stall was a bit much, but she really does love it!
If noone remembers, I sold her a Mandarin baby 4 yrs ago, and this past weekend I had the opportunity to show him, and help her in the older AA’s… He ended up Res. Champion in the low hunters out of appx. 35 (the list at the office said 38). Every time he went into the ring, he had orange Goo oozing out of his mouth! Then when she was on him, and about to go into the ring, I went up to her to give some words of wisdom, and HE MUGGED ME!!!. Like I had ever given him one! Hhhhhhmmmmmmmppppppphhhh!!!
I’m not a big treat-giver – skysmom has taught several of my kids how to eat carrots. My horses know that I’m their “Mommy”, and they get different types of affection that is not food related.
I’ll post the show results later, but Sky and his mom done me proud!!!
You live on Ramen noodles and drink generic Diet Coke so your horse can have those $200 shipping boots, padded halter, 3 different weight blankets, expensive (and you know it doesn’t really work anyway) fly spray, and a brass stall plate.
…he’s in his stall and doesn’t see you but hears your voice down the aisleway (about 10 stalls down) as you come in and goes crazy in his stall (ie. pointed ears, deep and LOUD nickering, trying to stick his head between the too small bars of the stall door, and pacing the door until you open it and say hello to him!)
Oh and the fact that I even KNOW which 24 stores carry FRESH apples and carrots probably says something too.
when… you have to ride in the back of the trailer, because he’ll cry if he can’t see you for the 45 minute ride.
I am Phat, not to be confused with Fat, which could save you hundreds of dollars in poop, so stop calling me! *Callin me mam’ is like puttin’ an elevator in an outhouse…it just don’t belong.
