Murphy Monday: Murphy Has a Run In With The Stylist

Murphy (17 days old)

You know, I don’t get this. I really don’t. My mother is losing it. I am not a burrowing animal.  Nuh-uh.

I’m outta here!

Houston, I think we have Scope...

I have a short Murphy story:

Last week, I was in their stall, grooming Barbie.  Barbie is patient but firm with her baby. She’ll “share” her grain (he’s gumming everything), her alfalfa, her grass hay, even her body.

But, apparently, God help him if he comes between her and her stylist. (Me.)

Poor guy was delegated to a corner while she got her back scratched, her mane straightened, her hooves done, and a complete rub down. He did not understand. She didn’t care.  After 45 minutes, she calmed down, and allowed him near us.  He pretended to nurse (sooooo smart) and then casually began to wedge himself between our bodies, testing.  She glanced back at him mildly. He ducked back out, and went into the corner.

Good.  I didn’t have to do that. Thanks, Barbie!

She didn’t need to be brushed anymore: she was clean.  But who can resist a horse looking at you, begging: Ooooooo that feels SO good! (Not Jane.) I kept going.

Murphy was testing boundaries and began walking around us.  Mom was cool with it, she was done being possessive of her stylist. I’d just finished rubbing her butt, and was working on her mane with the bristle brush…

…when Murphy mounted Barbie from behind.

I stepped out-of-the-way, to let Barbie handle it. (It’s always better if it comes from mom.) Problem.  She didn’t.  I’m not sure she even felt the weight. I’d just rubbed there. Quite possibly she assumed I grew two new arms.  I shooed him off, and gave him ‘mare’ body language, equal to lifting a hind foot in warning.

Murphy hot-foots it back into the corner.

Jane continues to brush Barbie’s mane.  Barbie luuuuvs the bristles scratching her crest. A half a minute goes by.

I feel movement behind me.

At the wrong  height.

I turn around, and there’s Murphy on his hind legs, getting ready to put his front hooves on my shoulders.  Luckily, I turned around with the hairbrush in hand, bristles face out.

He was still small enough I could have accidentally hurt him if I over-reacted.

I stand there. He hangs there.  I can see the “Whoops, got caught” bubble over his head, as his mind races through how to get out of this scenarios.  It’s a little like catching a kid rifling through your purse. My hand?  Uh.  It’s in your purse?  Wow. Didn’t notice…I think it fell in there?

He came down, raking his muzzle against the out-facing bristles of the hair brush.  His face flicks in surprise: OWWWWW.

Certain something tried to kill him, he ducks behind mom and cowers next to her.

Barbie, feeling his fear, looks over her shoulder at me inquiringly: ???

I give her the same look back (???), and shrug. Kids.

Tell me about it, Barbie says.  She goes back to eating, and positions her mane closer to me.

12 thoughts on “Murphy Monday: Murphy Has a Run In With The Stylist

  1. Naughty boys! I love that Barbie is so into her styling sessions! I guess you really pegged it when you said she was a diva. Tiny could give a crap about styling. She’s all about working it out, sweating it up, then rolling in dirt. Lol!

  2. I don’t think you could possibly drive us off in droves! I am enjoying the Murphy posts even though I never want to have a baby to do anything with! Always better when it is someone else’s story!

  3. I have had similar experiences…only in my case, I would go in and arrogantly think I was going to do some foal imprinting. But they mare would be at work… and I stand back and take a lesson from the master. No one knows better than the Mom. They teach us so much. I say thank you and leave…
    (Murphy is a very handsome boy. More photos won’t kill us.)

  4. I’m so glad I am not the only person that this happened to! I think I already commented a few weeks ago about the evening when Julie stood up and put her “paws” on my shoulders like a big German Shepherd.

    Also, Tucker believed his mother was his own personal jungle gym. He routinely mounted her from the side. She would sidestep, he would slide back down, and the process would repeat until she’d hit the fenceline and couldn’t go sideways anymore, and which point he’d be perched with his front feet on her withers, looking out over top of her at the view, and she’d pitifully look back at one of us for help. “Isn’t it old enough to wean yet? Please? It’s really big… couldn’t we just pretend it’s been five months already? No? Then could someone please GET IT OFF ME!”

    Poor Barbie. I hope that Murphy doesn’t develop similar habits. And glad that no humans or Murphies were hurt in the making of this post. No more jumping on Auntie Jane, Murphy!

    1. I realized that I had to say he “was” (instead of “is”) still so small I could have hurt him accidentally. Being with him today, I seriously doubt any startle-reflex would have the potential to hurt him. He’s changed that much in a week.

      If you could get away from him long enough to study his height…you would be able to watch him grow. Big if. He is definitely Mr. Personality. 🙂

      There’s been no repeat of his Walk Like A Human behavior. (so far!)

    1. Yup. I did wonder! Thanks for letting me know. It’s difficult not to post a picture of Murphy every day, and say fascinating things like: “Look! Doesn’t he breathe in the most adorable manner?”
      We figured limited it to once a week would not drive you off in droves.
      (Okay, we might sneak a picture in between mondays when no one is looking….)

      1. Noooo! More Murphy! There can never be enough baby foal pictures in the world.
        On the other hand, he is absolutely old enough to have his own blog. Absolutely. Then all of us can say “we read about him when…”

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