This picture was taken after a hard day of work in Autumn lasy year. He's my ex-horse, Maza. I had to let him go unfortunately because of a bunch of silly excuses, that's what the 'ex' stands for. Anyway, I adore this picture because it perfectly and fully describes him. We spent a lot of time together, so we really got to know each other, almost as we could read each other's minds. (Sometimes it did feel like that, and I tell you it creeped me out..)
He's a silly little horse, although as calm as a rock. He couldn't care less wether it was raining on him or not, or if the temperature was below zero. He has rather simple needs, just like water. I intentionally don't mention food here, because he manages perfectly only with grazing. To prove that he's a tough little fellow, I must say that he managed to grow up by my side, and became a happy, content, healthy and gentle horse. It didn't last me as long as I had him, so five years to figure out that he has a bottomless stomach. He takes a bite of basically everything besides meat products. At times, even potentially dangerous or unedible objects are on his menu. Because horses can't throw up, the intake of any unappropriate objects, substances, plants, whatever, can be and in some cases are lethal, so I kept on worrying about him every day, just like a normal person would do with his or her child. Feeding him is like a never ending story although as I said before, he doesn't need any further feeding other than a meadow. So this means, every time I fed him, I gave him an extra burst of energy. Well, energy would be the case with normal horses, but being the lazyest horse alive, in his case, only an extra layer of fat.
Lazyness only lasts until he sees a plastic bag in somebody's hands, because the sight of a bag like that triggers an automatic response; stickyness. He sticks onto anyone who's brave enough to wander around with a bag of clothes, riding accessories or anything basically, because he just cannot be convinced that under those clothes, under all your stuff there's no food at all. No carrots, no chocolate, no dried bread, not even a single scrap left of that peach flavoured biscuite from yesterday. Once we even had him running after us, when we started trying to escape from him. Although being a herbivore, he enjoyed the chase, the hunt for a small bite. Fortunately not a bite of our flesh... These were the times when I began to feel graceful for him being a grass eater.
Not even a lock can stand in his way when he gets a smell of something probably edible from inside a small building. Throughout the years he became an expert of opening doors and windows, stealing, and begging. Of course he never stole or begged for survival, only for fun I guess. This is the reason why I chose this picture, it makes me think of all those things he would go through for the smallest amount of food, without caring a bit even about his neck.
