Tails from the Tack Room
LC here. VERA’s off pretending the hay loft is her personal meditation space, but don’t worry—I’ve got this one covered. There’s been a lot of talk lately about “quarantine” and “trial horses,” and while it all sounds very official and a little mysterious… we’ve been watching everything.
First things first—quarantine isn’t as scary as it sounds. When a new horse arrives at High Hopes, they don’t get tossed straight into the herd like carrots into a feed bucket. They get a little vacation first: a paddock all to themselves, a few days to breathe and take in the sights (including yours truly perched nearby on the fence post), and time to adjust to their new surroundings without any nose-to-nose introductions.
The humans take it very seriously. There are signs on the gates, special spray bottles, and even tubs that clean your shoes before you walk in and after you leave the paddock. Honestly, we’re impressed. If we had this kind of protocol, maybe we wouldn’t have had that whole incident with the mystery mouse last winter…
Only a few staff members are allowed to handle the trial horses at first. They take them for walks, introduce them to new sights and sounds, and gently test their reactions. Are they curious or cautious? Do they pause and sniff something weird, or do they gallop off like a squirrel that had too much coffee? Around here, calm and thoughtful wins the day.
Not every horse is cut out for therapeutic work—and that’s okay! Just like not every cat wants to supervise arena activities (looking at you, VERA). Some horses find their stride here, while others head off to shine somewhere else.
Right now, we’ve been closely observing Ritzie, Poppy, and Tulip. And let me tell you—they’re stars in the making. Hula hoops? No problem. Shiny plastic balls? Barely a flick of the tail. Rattling toys and flying foam noodles? They just blink and keep on. They even seem to enjoy the attention, especially ours. We’ve provided our usual service: circling their legs, inspecting their paddocks, and yes, sprinting dramatically through the arena to test their reaction time. (Don’t worry—they passed. The humans? Slightly less amused.)
Once a horse officially joins the High Hopes herd, things move slowly and thoughtfully. Just like starting a new job, they ease into the schedule, learn the ropes, and meet their new coworkers one nuzzle at a time.
We’re proud to be part of the onboarding team—even if we don’t technically get listed on the HR forms.
Until next time,
LC (and VERA, spiritually supervising from the rafters) 🐾