“Um, is that normal behavior for him?”
“Harry? No. Other horses, yes. They like to be cheeky.” Sam shoves his hat back on his head. “The horses seem to think human heads taste like a salt lick.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but it tickles.”
I laugh nervously, eyeing Harry’s four ginormous fluffy feet. They’re the size of dinner plates. If I get too close, a foot like that coming down on mine could easily break it.
I take a half step backward, directly into Sam. “You’re doing well,” he whispers into my ear. His body is warm. He takes my right hand in his. “Horses are sensitive to emotions. Relax. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Ignoring every instinct in my body urging me to run away, I force my muscles to go slack. “That’s better.”
He guides me forward. Lifting my hand, he places it on Harry’s muzzle, letting the horse sniff my scent, like a dog. He guides it up his nose and down his neckand shoulder. “Easy does it. When you touch Harry like this, you’re letting him know where you are at all times.”
Harry’s mane is soft, and up close, I can see that it’s been braided. His coat, however, is coarse. “He’s so muscular.”
“He has to be. The drum horses carry two forty-five-kilo steel drums.”
“That’s a big load.” My eyes widen.
“It is, but he’s conditioned for it. Otherwise, we would never let Harry go out on parade.”
Harry turns his head and moves it up and down, as if he’s agreeing with us. Sam and I share a laugh.
“He really is a gentle giant,” I muse.
We stand to the horse’s side, stroking him. At some point, Sam steps back and leaves Harry and I alone to gather some grooming tools. I don’t notice until he returns.
“Would you like to have a go at brushing him? His coat is looking shaggy. Shires need more attention than the chargers.”
“I understood about half of what you said. What’s a charger?”
“Our regular horses.”
“Oh.” My cheeks warm. I should’ve guessed that. What other horses are in the stables? “Can I watch you do it before I commit to anything?”
Sam nods. Placing a toolbox-looking case onto a shelf built into the wall, he retrieves a round brush. “This is a curry comb.” He slides it onto his hand. “All I’m going to do is start behind Harry’s ears and work my way down his body using circular motions.”
The muscles in Sam’s arms ripple with effort, and it’s hard to focus on Harry.
“The fur, hay, dirt, and whatever else is on Harry’s bodywill come off in clumps like this.” As if to prove his point, the air is filled with flying pieces of short brown hair. “Notice that I’m avoiding his stomach area. Just like humans, horses can be ticklish.”
Sam works the right side and stops just short of the tail area.
“It still looks like he still has some loose fur... and what about his legs?”
“Oh, don’t worry, the curry comb is only used on the first pass. I’ll go back over the same areas I just combed with a fiber dandy brush like this one.” Sam reaches for a brush with thick bristles similar to one used to polish shoes. “This is also the one I’ll use on his legs. There isn’t much fat down there and curry combs aren’t comfortable for him.”
“That’s a lot of brushing.”
Sam flips the brush into the air and catches it. “I hate to tell you, but we’re not even halfway done with his grooming.”
“We’re not?”
“Nope. We still need to do the mane, tail, and face, then have a go with the shedding brush. And that’s all before we get to picking out his hooves. On days the horses are receiving baths, we do a shortened grooming first.”
“And how long does all that take?”
“If the horse is behaving, on average, maybe twenty minutes.”
