Why Steve no longer feeds the horses within their space.

Sofia........Leave to me to end up with a horse who hasn't been fed properly prior to me getting them. And manners, well, what are those? Sofia was one of those horses. And when it came to grain, well, forget it. I don't think I've ever witnessed a more aggressive eater. The feeder would be smacked around with her face in it. Feet stompin' and diggin'! Ears pinned back. Beautiful little Morgan cross, though, especially out trotting in the pasture. At the time I had three. Sofia was the unweaned 10 month old that came free with the mare I had purchased. Alot of work to be done in the next couple of years. Never had been wormed, led, any of those basics, but not too bad, really. Sweet in her right, until it was time to eat that is. My husband, Steve, completely inexperienced in anything to with horses would frequently feed for me as my work hours are long and at night and often I'm exhausted when I get home. He used to think of them, the horses that is, as big giant puppy dogs, harmless, until one evening while I was getting ready for work, he went out to feed for me. I thought at the time it was taking him entirely too long to do the task and began to wonder where he was, but I continued to put on my make-up anyway. Next thing I know Steve is standing in the doorway with a "deer caught in the headlights" look on his face. Apparently as he was bending down putting the rubber grain filled feeders on the ground for three horses and not minding the feet, Sofia belted him in the head with a rear hoof and knocked him out briefly. When he awoke, he managed to roll himself out of the paddock and find his way into the house. He told me what had happened. Well, I'm a critical care nurse in pediatrics who can remain very calm in the work place but when it happens to a family member, it's kind of a different story. I grabbed him immediately and got him in the car. Had to stop to pick up our daughter at the high school on the way to the ER. A high school kid always takes their time strolling to the car. All poor Steve wanted was a drink of water. I screeched at him,"No you can't have water! What if you need surgery!" He must have asked for the water a dozen times. And I had to decide whether to go to the local ER where for sure they would kill him or take the 30 minute drive to the hospital where I know he'd receive good care. A negative CT scan and the digging out of poop in his ear later, all was well. He still holds a grudge against Sofia. I laugh about it now and just shake my head. He does giggle when he thinks of how Zoe, my daughter, and I kept asking him silly questions to keep him awake on our way to ER.