Did we keep plugging away at Milton’s issues from strength of character? Not really. We got stuck. Actually, I got stuck. My steadfast support staff maintained that it would work out. Partly in self-defense. He didn’t want to be living with me if it did not.
As a hypothetical exercise, I imagined a stranger rolling up my driveway with a trailer to say, “I want to buy Milton. Here is X dollars in cash to cover the cost of the horse and the shipping. It will be be as if it never happened.”
Hypothetical response 1: Take him he’s yours.
Hypothetical response 2: No. No. I want keep him after all.
My hypothetical response: ???
I had no idea what I wanted. Even hypothetically.
Where would I find another horse? I was not swimming in options. In several years of horse shopping, the closest candidate we’d found was an unbroke 9 year old. Not a good idea at all, but my rescue impulses were running strong. At least Milton saved me from that blunder.
I was done. So very, very done. If this didn’t work out, I could not imagine starting again. Overreaction? Undoubtedly. Didn’t make it any less real.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, I retained my trust in Fairy Godmother’s judgment [Mail-Order Horse]. If she said Milton was a good one, then there was a nice horse in there. Somewhere.
All of the preceding assumes that things will be different with Milton. Perhaps nothing has changed. Perhaps this week’s posts have been an exercise in misguided optimism.