We have an intercom between the house and Cliff's shop. A while ago, Cliff buzzed me, and when I responded, he said, "Hey Donna, come out and catch Jessica's horse for her."
Tude always ran from his owners when they first brought him here, but I had worked with him a little and gotten him where he'd stand still while they walked up to him. I guess he's had a relapse.
There was Jessica, a rope in one hand and a bucket of feed in the other (she had hoped to bribe him with grain), looking ready to cry.
"Here," I told her, "Give me the rope, and you take the bucket of feed."
I had several plans in mind, if Tude walked or ran away. But what he did was take a couple of steps toward me, and when I got to him, I put the rope around his neck. It was rather disappointing, really, because I wanted to show off my horse-whisperer abilities.
However, Jessica was duly impressed, and very thankful. I had to laugh when she told him he wasn't getting any feed because he's been a bad boy. As if he would connect not getting any feed to his naughty behavior, five minutes before.