Big, big trouble.
Apparently, today, Her Highness didn't feel like the hay I had in my hands; she wanted the beautiful spring grass and dandelions,thankyouverymuch. She executed one of her beautiful spins away from me and was out the gate, prancing along like she owned the world.
I couldn't believe she pulled a stunt like that. She usually hooks on as soon as I step into her pen and I don't think twice about the gate. (Even if I'd wanted to shut the gate behind me, I couldn't have, I needed both hands for the hay and another two to pull the gate up out of the mud and close it.)
I dropped her hay, marched to her little house, picked up her halter and headed out to get her.
I had visions of tromping all over the county road in my skirt with her halter and lead rope, but when I came out of the house, she had planted herself right in the middle of a dandelion patch. Then I heard a truck tearing down the county road and all I could think of was, "please don't spook, please don't spook". But, oh, no, Her Highness couldn't be bothered by something as mundane as a big ole pickup truck barreling down on her at 40+ mph. She didn't even flick an ear when the truck blew by just a few feet from where she was eating.
As I was walking through the gate, a car came down the farm road (at a much slower pace) and passed right behind her. Again, she didn't care.
Nor did she care when I walked right up to her and slipped her halter over her head.
But she *did* care when she got popped in the nose with the lead rope for trying to dive back into the grass on our way back into her pen. Twice she cared, then she remembered her manners.
She also cared a great deal when she got tied up while I finished moving her hay from where I dropped it to where it was supposed to go.
She might be the Queen, but I'm the one with opposable thumbs and she'd do well to remember that.