My Barn Experiment Day
Okay, so today’s little adventure kicked off because I was cleaning stalls down at the old Johnson place. I help out there sometimes, gets me away from the computer screen. Anyway, Mr. Johnson’s got this big bay stallion, Thunder, pure muscle and always looks like he’s ready to either fight or win a prize. Then there’s Dusty, this little grey gelding I actually board there – total couch potato most days. Got me thinking hard: which one of these guys is genuinely calmer overall? Like, day in, day out? Decided I gotta see this for myself, not just guess.
First thing I did was simple. Just basic feed time. I grabbed two buckets of grain, same size, same sweet feed they both love. Walked down the aisle towards Thunder’s stall first. Dude spotted me instantly, head snapped up, ears pricked hard forward like little radar dishes. He started pacing that stall like a caged tiger – back and forth, back and forth. Snorting, tossing his head, rattling the bars with his nose before I even got close. When I finally slid his door open to put the bucket in? Huge explosive spin away from the door, then a quick snatch at the grain. Heart rate felt high just watching him.
Contrast time. Dusty’s stall is next door. Carried the other bucket down. Looked in – Dusty was standing halfway asleep, one hind leg resting. Saw me, flicked an ear lazily, maybe took half a step towards the front. No pacing, no noise. I slid his door open wide, walked right in. He just stretched his neck out soft as anything, started lipping the grain without any fuss. No spinning, no tension. Breathing was slow and deep. Just… eating.
Phase two was the scary tarp test. Dug out this old, crinkly blue tarp from the tack shed. Figured it’s loud and flappy, should spook them both a bit. Started with Thunder again. Shook the tarp out on the ground outside his stall window. Instant reaction. Head shot up, eyes went wide white. He blew air hard out his nose, backed up fast in the stall almost into the back wall. Spun around, watched that tarp like it was a rattlesnake. Even a slight breeze making it flutter had him jumping sideways. No way I was taking him out near it.
Next, Dusty’s turn. Dragged the noisy tarp down. Shook it out same spot, made it flap even more aggressively. Dusty looked over. Okay, first glance, he perked up. Head raised higher, stared for a good solid few seconds. Maybe blew air once, softly. Didn’t back up though. Stood there watching. After about a minute or so, he just lowered his head back down towards his hay net. Like, “Huh. Weird blue noisy thing. Anyway, hay.” He wasn’t bothered enough to stop eating for long.
Final little kicker was just walking past the paddocks later. Some kids rode their bikes down the lane outside the fence, laughing and shouting. Thunder went ballistic. Galloped along his fence line, screaming that high-pitched stallion scream, arched neck, tail straight up in the air. Pure drama. Dusty? Lifted his head, saw the bikes, maybe took a couple steps towards his gate out of mild curiosity, then went back to grazing. No big deal.
Alright, wrapping this up. Hands down, from start to finish, Dusty the gelding was the chillest dude in the barn today. Thunder? Yeah, he’s impressive. Beautiful animal, full of power. But calm? Nope. Not even close. He’s wired tight most of the time, reacting hard to stuff Dusty barely blinks at. If you want relaxed, easygoing, predictable? That little grey gelding wins every single time in my book. Proof is in the actual doing. End of story.
