Luckily the disappointment of last weekend has faded away, and I’m feeling much better about this last weekend. I picked out my baby!
This is F#, which is pronounced “F Sharp,” not “F Hastag.” Hopefully, I won’t have to repeat this over and over, but I anticipate a lifetime of telling people that. He shall be called the very dignified name of “Sharpie,” just like the marker. He may look familiar, and that is because I looked at him before. I felt like we had a super connection then, as we gazed into each others eyes, and planned out our futures together. I didn’t decide on him outright at the time because… well… I wanted a bay. And he’s chestnut! I’ve never owned a chestnut! This is so weird!
Even though he’s older now, I would say he’s even more suspicious of me. He found it very weird that I wanted to touch him.
But he did start to realize how good scratches felt – although he showed his appreciation to his mother and not me.
While checking him out, I checked out my other option – another colt out of the same mare. He was cute as a button, but it seemed riskier to pick him – his sire just started training whereas Sharpie’s sire is approved and confirmed as being a super talented jumper. But the other colt came in a package with Sharpie’s genetic mother, and damn she is fabulous!
After checking them out, we went to visit D’Arcy’s pick and the rest of the older foals. And being surrounded by tons of friendly foals gave me hope. They may be shy when they are younger, but they get friendly fast!
There is hope! Sharpie will be friendlier next time I see him, and be super into me, that way our relationship isn’t one sided.
Seeing all these foals…. omg I love them all! I wish I lived on a breeding farm so I could be surrounded by foals all day, every day. Note, I would not be able to have my own breeding farm, as I would never be able to sell the foals. I’d be way too attached. Maybe I’ll work out a deal one day where I just show up to random breeding farms and run free with the foals. I could be the official Foalertertainer. Call me, I’ll come entertain your foals.