Can I take him home and love him forever?

It took close to a month, but I've finally found a favorite. Joel is, I believe, the most comical horse on the ranch. He is a vividly red saddlebred that gets special treatment because no matter what we do we can't get the damn fellow to put on weight. Most horses get hay once daily, and the old or skinny ones will get two scoops of senior once or twice a day depending on the need. Joel gets three scoops of senior three times a day plus a dollop of corn oil with each serving. Were he a person I think we'd be one step away from intravenous feeding.

Joel's unusual appearance is accentuated by his other amusing features: an extraordinarily long neck that makes him tower above the other shorter and fatter horses, and an abnormally wide white strip down his muzzle that makes it appear as though he has a very large nose. Joel also has what I call "Disney eyes," large, dewy, doe-eyes that make your teeth ache from sweetness just by looking at him. When analyzing Joel from the side he still looks adorable, but it is when he's staring at me head on from across the ranch that his super-thin, gangly, big-nosed, Disney-eyed self just makes me grin.

Beyond the quirkiness of his physical appearance, the challenge of his personality draws me. Joel is what many would label "skittish." Some here might call that a bit of an understatement. Basically, he's afraid of everything and everyone. He also seems to fear being caged, exhibited by the "twinkle toes" dance he does at the front of the pen when he's done eating and wants to be released to dart across the ranch to the safety of his rather rotund horse girlfriend, Bonita. I asked Barbara if she knew Joel's story. She told me he was a show horse and that with saddlebreds it isn't uncommon for trainers to use cruel methods to get them to develop a high-stepping trot, including tying weights to their legs and utilizing pain-inducing mechanisms to get desired results. Joel was a victim of this kind of torture and as a result trusts no one and jumps at the slightests noise or movement - fearing it all might be the revivial of one of the nightmares of his past.

I think it is the difficulty of winning his affection and trust that makes finally befriending him all the more rewarding. He and I have reached the point where if I call to him he will walk over. He follows me with less and less hesitation into a pen, trusting that I will not be serving up devices of torture, but bowlfuls of food. If I walk slowly up to him I can pet his face and even hug his neck. He has let me groom him - both inside and outside of the pen. Having been here a month and being able to see the drastic progress I've made in befriending a damaged and difficult horse is absolutely wonderful, and I'm reminded of that each time I catch his goofy profile peering at me, as he wonders when his next helping of fattening-up food will be.