this morning, soon after I had arrived at the farm I work at I went out into one of the pastures to spread hay out. This pasture is full of broodmares, and a couple horses that don't fit into any other pasture arrangement. One of those is a little Shetland pony named Dillon.
Dillon is on a bit of a diet because he has chunked out over the summer. He gets tied up to a fence post and eats his special diet feed there, so he can't steal the mares special mommy food. Lately I've been the one tying Dillon up in the morning, and I'm guessing he was starting to resent me foiling his master plan.
Today they had all finished their grain and were milling around when we went out to spread the hay into a few different piles. I saw Dillon come trotting over and shooed him away with my hand. That is when things turned ugly! This sweet adorable looking pony lunged at me with his mouth open. I tried to jump back, but was too slow. The next thing I knew Dillon was 10 feet away with a piece of my new orange shirt hanging from his evil little mouth. My shoulder was throbbing, and we were all standing there saying, "holy cow! Did that just happen?"
Being that I was now indecently dressed, and my boss has 3 sons between the ages of 8 and 15 roaming the farm she quickly got me Tylenol, a first aid kit, and a new shirt. Here is the evidence that everything that looks cute and cuddly might not be, although the picture doesn't show anywhere close to the range of blues and purples I'm sporting right now.
I swear we didn't feed him after midnight!