This is Fred:
Fred is in his mid-20s, and is a TB. He's a sweet boy, but can be very silly, and is also, as we say, not the brightest bulb. In his younger days, he could be quite a handful when leading to turnout and when playing in the pasture - he was know for his ability to leap and rear on the lead line when excited. Now that he's older, he's somewhat better behaved, although he still likes to play a bit of mouth tag with Fritz - they have the same owner and have been together for many years - and also with Pie, and will try a little rear from time to time. He's at the bottom of the gelding pecking order. Fred is still mobile, but he no longer can move or run well - when he canters, he does a bunny hop with his hind legs. He's got degenerative suspensory ligament desmitis in all four legs and his pasterns are heading for horizontal, particularly in his hind legs, which puts a lot of strain on his legs and also his hooves.
But Fred still manages to get around and enjoy life. Yesterday, two round bales were delivered - I wasn't there but my husband was to help with the unloading. To deliver, the truck with the round bales first made its way into the mares' dry lot, and then the gate between the mares' and geldings' dry lot has to be opened to let the truck through. (Don't get me started about the poor design decisions made by the people - not horse people - who designed our barn and pasture layout 15 years ago: gates in the wrong places and too small, no proper equipment access to a number of the pastures, etc., etc.).
When this gate is open, things can get tricky. Yesterday, the person at the gate (not my husband) wasn't paying attention and Fred snuck through into the mares' dry lot. My husband said he looked more interested in the hay than the mares, but Dawn was backing towards him - whether with amatory or aggressive intention we don't know. Then, since the gate tender apparently still wasn't paying attention, Fritz slipped through - my husband said he looked like he was wanting to guard Fred. Before things got dicey, my husband threw snowballs at Fritz and Fred and got them to go back in their proper pasture.
Pie, being a sensible horse, had stayed well clear of all this stuff. When my husband went into the geldings' dry lot to help unload the bale there, Pie came up to him and stuck his nose into my husband's shoulder and stood there for several minutes while my husband rubbed his neck and shoulders. Pie seems to really like my husband - perhaps he reminds him of the old man. My husband isn't much of a horse person, but says he really likes Pie. Good Pie!