awww... horseys!
I haz a horse ballz.
Hey -- that's just a dang Hippity-Hop.
Ha ha Horse Balls and all, but I'll be god-damned if those aren't the happiest-looking horses I've ever seen. I've got the biggest, dumbest grin on my face now because of it.
@3
Beat me to it... That's exactly what I thought!
@3 and 5, and weren't hippity hops designed after their counterparts the "hoppity horse"? Ironic...
I stand corrected. The hoppity ball came out before the hoppity horse.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxYjOtXjeAw
My grandmother owns a tack store, and they used to sell these...and when I was a kid, we jumped on them like hippity hops. Good times.
where's mr hands?
I can't stop watching...
The interesting question to me is, what is it that makes this such a seemingly enjoyable diversion for the horse? I mean, I don't see any real-world behavior or activity for which this is an analogue. Any horse-folk (or centaurs) have any thoughts?
If there are two things that you're no stranger to Kelly O, it's whiskey and horseballs. They almost go hand in hand, no pun intended.
Anything to stop horses from wind sucking, I say. Suck on horse balls instead!
OMGPONIES!
When I see the horses merrily flipping their horseballs to and fro, all I can think of is the calamity of one of those balls, a horse, and a stray six-year-old child.
Yes, but can he hula-hoop?
Yes...horseballs *DO* cut down on boredom...but you know what would really cut down on boredom?...Horse soccer...way better than elephant polo...and, no, those Budweiser commercials don't count...that's football, CGI, and retarded...
There is no way that I would ever let one of my horses play with that thing. Do you realize how easy horse legs snap? Step on one of those things after it drops out of the horse's mouth and there goes Mr. Horsey. That would care the hell out of me watching that in real life (without an edited video cutting out the tragedies).
HA! My horse used to do this with the neighbor's labs and cats. Every single time they entered her pasture, she'd some screaming (a harsh, horrifying sound) across the pasture, grab them by the back of their necks, and heave them over the fence. Only one cat continued to enter and was eventually removed sans life one afternoon. Edna had finally had enough of said cat in her space, large though that might have been.
Edna is long gone from my farm but the memory lingers. The mother lab taught her pups to stay out of that nutty horse's pasture and all those dogs taught the rescue dogs the neighbor's adopted. To this day no dogs enter that pasture.
Edna also had one of these balls but ignored it, preferring living beings as play things.
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