Lila is a very pretty name, which suits a lovely, sweet, darling little filly. That filly is most emphatically NOT Loula’s kick-butt little hooligan baby. We’ve all agreed that Lila just does not suit her. That is the boldest, bravest, and most bad-ass little foal I have ever seen. That shouldn’t impress anyone much, since I only have a few years experience with foals. But when I mentioned that to the boss, he looked rueful and agreed. Apparently he’s never seen anything quite like her either. And he has many, many years of foals to remember. I think he’s already getting worried about having to start this one under saddle.
Leading her to her paddock in the morning is a bit death-defying. She rears and walks on hind legs, striking madly “Let me GO!!! I have STUFF to do!!!” Then she bolts forward, kicking sideways trying to kneecap the human (me) in passing. Then she gallops sideways dragging me, zigzagging ahead of her mother. It’s not spookiness or fear. She is just P.O.’d that we are interfering with her self-expression. She loves people in fact. We are excellent at scratching miscellaneous itches, and she’s very demanding about that.
Linda commented today that poor Loula (who was standing out in the field watching her kid wheel around her in huge swooping loops at rocket speed, leaning into the corners like a motorcycle, whinnying with glee, and periodically diving in and trying out her kung fu moves on her mom) looked like she was getting a migraine… “Oh good lord… really? Someone get me an ice pack and let me lie down in a dark stall until this kid is weaned”.
I got a very short video clip of her cantering around this morning. For her this is quite sedate. As usual, I missed the really good stuff. I will have to make a concerted effort over the next little while to actually use the camera instead of standing gape-mouthed in amazement.
So. Since everyone seems to be making the exact same comment about her being “Hell On Wheels”, she is now Helen. Sometimes they just name themselves…