Frustration

Cooper was a known casanova. His reputation preceeded him- libertine, rake, playboy. He had earned every one of these titles and even more. He was the teaser stallion for an active breeding farm. His profession was one of privilege, seduction, and frustration.

Each morning during breeding season- from January to June- he was marched out with great pomp and circumstance to each mare on the farm. His appointed duties included flirting, coaxing, seducing, and otherwise engaging each mare in conversation to determine her resistance/cooperation for breedng purposes.

He was a magnificent brown and white stallion- and he was 26 inches tall. His mane and tail were full and luxurious, his Indian-pony coat glistened in the sunlight. His feet were tiny perfect replicas of the larger horses whom he visited each day. He, however, did not seem aware of his size. He carried himself with the demeanor of a stallion- proud and keen. He would enter the barn aisle, with mares stalled on each side, and commence to swagger and strut before them.

His was a confidence born of experience. Of course, they found him magnificent- the ones who were willing would flutter their eyelashes and nicker to him playfully. He waggered. He swayed before them. He did not know he was of short stature- his life experience had never taught him this lesson. He felt equal to any other stallion and behaved in such a manner.

When a mare would express interest in his display of manliness, the handlers would proceed to pull a step to the front of her stall. Cooper would climb atop the stool and could just reach the openings between the aluminum bars to touch her velvety nose. He would stretch his front feet higher and lift his body so that he was standing on his hind legs. With front legs supported by the front of the stall, he would stand perched atop the stool and woo, coo, and nuzzle the mare until the handler decided to move to another lady horse.

Each morning, his routine was the same. He would nuzzle and embrace each likely candidate. If his passion heightened, the handler knew that the mare may be receptive to her intended stallion's advances (or seed). Cooper was rarely mistaken when it came to deciphering feminine moods. If he indicated that she was receptive, she probably was. If he indicated that she had already blossomed and was past the peak of her cycle, she probably was.

Occasionally, a mare would repeatedly shun his advances. For weeks at a time, his morning visits would produce no passion from her. When this happened, Cooper would find himself in a private turnout paddock for several hours with only a sturdy fence separating them. He would run the perimeter exhaustively- looking for a way to be closer to his lady love. He would call to her- screaming his love at the top of his voice. Sometimes, after several hours or even days of this closeness, she would begin to feel a spark and soon, she too would find her body ready to take the journey to motherhood.

Thus were the days of the teaser stallion. A heady blend of lust, love, and longing. He was allowed- no encouraged- to follow his animal instincts. Yet, sadly, he was never to achieve fullness. He lived a life of privilege- afforded the same luxuries as the great stallions who lived at the farm. But, alas, his privileges stopped sort of satisfaction. His was an existence doomed to loneliness...And that was the life of Cooper.