Well after much consideration I have come up with a BARN NAME for Ironman. This is only his barn name and will not replace his registered name (don’t even know if he is registered). I have come up with the name “Taggert” or “Tagg” for short. I currently use both, “Taggert” when I want his attention and “Tagg” for just calling out to him.
His name did not come from Beverly Hills Cop as so many people have mentioned but from my absolute favorite book of all time “Atlas Shrugged” by Ayn Rand. It is actually the heroine’s last name but she works in a man’s world and is more man then most men I know. It has been called the most influential book next the Bible. Anyway, Taggert’s name has much meaning behind it. I hope everyone approves.
I have recently found out “Taggert” and electricity have a real love/hate relationship. I am of course speaking of the electric fence I finally finished this weekend that leads off his newly cut stall exit with the well made (made them myself) Dutch doors. I of course was holding onto him (chain over nose) when the first zap took place. Had I not held onto him he would have probably bolted backwards into the opposite side of the fence, which may not have had a good end result.
He quickly calmed down and started grazing but flinched at every noise or movement made. Needless to say he was ready to go back to his stall. I tried to leave him out briefly while I cleaned his stall but he kindly “knocked” on his stall door insisting I let him back in. Once in, he proceeded to buck and move around quite fast I think to show me he was still a man. After his “testosterone kick” subsided he followed me everywhere I went needing to be comforted the entire time. Poor Guy. This was on Sunday.
Yesterday was pretty much the same. I could leave the back stall door open but he would not set foot outside. Today I rewrapped his leg (a little tighter) and led him out and let him off the lead. I also closed his stall door behind me and proceeded out the barn to the manure pile, which is parallel to his enclosure. He saw me wondered why I was here and he was there and panicked. He hauled butt up to his stall and slammed on brakes when he saw his stall door closed turned hauled butt toward the fence (which I just knew he was going to run through) and again slammed on brakes.
I was not taking any chances and ran back to his stall to let him in. I had a feeling this might happen so I made sure he had enough support on that area should he start acting crazy. I brought him back in and he would not let me out of his sight and followed me around the stall like a puppy as I cleaned constantly looking over my shoulder with his nose pressed to the side of my face. I think it was a very humbling experience for him.
Once it got darker and before I left I brought him out one more time and stayed with him giving him carrots. He started grazing so I meandered back to his stall and he did not follow. I tried to coax him with a carrot and he still would not follow. Finally, I had to pry him away from the grass (a good sign). Once inside his stall he looked longingly over his Dutch door at his little paddock. I hope he is this eager to go back out tomorrow.