Who is That Masked Horse? Lukas Reveals His Secret Identity

“How on earth do you get Lukas to wear all those costumes, Karen?” Up until now, only Lukas’ closest friends know how this is done. Foot-long reindeer antlers, bobbing clovers that read “Kiss me, I’m Irish,” a full-size sombrero with a matching chili necklace, a hot water bottle (a big favorite the day after New Year’s Eve), floppy Easter ears with a matching flower boa, a wide-brimmed straw hat and hula skirt, a cowboy hat and bandana tied loosely around his nose with the caption “Hand over the carrots and nobody gets hurt,” and many more. Even more remarkable because I was told by the lady I bought him from that I’d never be able to get close to his ears. An odd objection, you might think – why would he care about his ears? Unfortunately, a common cruel practice by racehorse handlers and incompetent trainers is twisting a horse’s ears to obtain compliance – a very short-term and ineffective measure, to say the least. A horse’s ears are incredibly sensitive and delicate. Soft and fuzzy to keep out bugs and debris, they’re independently mobile to focus on a sound and screen out background noise to detect danger. From the first day, I talked to Lukas in a conversational manner – low murmurs and comforting drawn out reassurances – the way horse friends chat.

Figuring that fun and children go together and that laughter is a great healer, I chose costumes to represent the happy and playful side of animals. Since Lukas always wanted to do what I did, I tried on the outfits first and modeled them while doing chores so he’d get used to them. “Look, Lukas, isn’t this a cool hat? I bet you’d look soooo handsome wearing it. Let’s have a look, buddy.” Within minutes, he’d insist on parading around and showing off his handsomeness. With this, I always kiss him on the velvety spot between his nostril and upturned mouth – warm and fragrant like a furry flower. I’ve always preferred stalls on the outskirts of boarding properties for obvious reasons – the back row suits us just fine. One day I happened to be cleaning out Lukas’ stall and I heard, “Hello, anybody home?!” Forgetting I was wearing a Halloween hat, I emerged from around Lukas. “Oh! Um! Never mind!” was her startled reaction. “I can ex –“ Too late, she had already ducked around the corner. I felt the headband with the tall felt witch hat and yellow pigtails sticking straight out from the side of my head and couldn’t stop chuckling. I heard later that she was a prospective boarder who had inquired about a stall “anywhere but the back row.”

The back row fence of our stall bordered a rarely used public equestrian path. One day Lukas was on his pedestal close to the trail – I’d had in mind to teach him to smile and salute at the same time. As I cued with both hands, the breeze picked up and I looked up just in time to see the panicked eyes of two trail horses and their stunned riders. I was wearing a jingling court jester’s hat with bobbing curlies and bells on each tip. To complete the ensemble I had on a purple, gold, and lime green feather boa (for Mardi Gras). The breeze made the boa whip about and the little jingles chime. The last I saw of them were their back-sides skittering away from us as fast as possible.

A very dignified place, we kept our antics under cover …for the most part. Except for Lukas’ birthday, he struts around noiselessly in his costumes and peers at me under the hat brims with a voluntary grin. “I’m the most handsome of all; you can kiss me now.” Once a year, he’s allowed a noisemaker on his birthday. As I pull it out of the bag, he chomps eagerly, “This is mine, all mine – bring it here!” Looking around to make sure no one is nearby, I hand it over. Ahhh, squeak, squeak, mmmm, sqEEEaak! He grinds it in rhythm as I sing “Happy Birthday” to him, and his eyes glaze over in deep contentment.