more about horses

Hi guys, I really haven't forgotten about posting. Just been doing other things.

I spent a lovely weekend with Drewy and Mel, mostly feeding off of Drewy's excitement and joy. Like Lisa said in a comment on Drewy's blog: "We don't chase carrots, We eat them!" Hearing all about Drewy's teaching job, the culmination of years of desire and study, gave me a new shot of hope. God just fulfilled a dream for one of my closest friends, and he has good things planned for every single one of us. Isn't that a nice thought?

I still am semi-jobless. But that is putting the situation negatively! I am semi-jobed? semi-employed? :-)

Anyway, I am enjoying my horses every morning. Their names are Llewie (short for Llewellyn), a fat, happy, greedy pony, Comet, a retired jumper, Big Boy, a retired racehorse (he raced thrice, and finished dead last every time), and Tiger, a working show horse.

Really all I do for them is feed and water them, muck the stable, and sweep the barn corridor. Doesn't sound that hard, does it? Well, it isn't. Except when Tiger tries to bite my chin.

The horses stay out to pasture except when I come to feed them. I open the gate for them and they each walk directly to their own stall to eat their grain. They are all great going into their stalls- after all, food awaits them! Its going back out that presents problems. Tiger is a bit skiddish, and though she has come out safely so far, I am worried she's going to make a break for freedom one of these days (or kick me for the fun of it). Big Boy comes out of his stall and tries to wander in to each of his neighbors' stall in turn. With no halter on him, I am reduced to tugging at his mane in a futile manner. He isn't impressed.

Then there is Llewie. Llewie's stall door doesn't close because he kicked it in sometime or other. He always gets done eating first, then spends the rest of the time wandering about the barn and getting in the way of whatever I am doing.

My morning conversations with him run something like this: "Hi Llewie, want some water? Wait until I set the bucket down!... Hey, Llewie, get your face out of Tiger's stall, you aren't being very nice to her!... Llewie, NO! I said get your face out of there! SMACK! (that's me whacking him)... Llewie, no, you can't come into the tackroom with me. BONK! (that's me closing the door against his head)... Llewie, move over, I need to get the hay..."

Thankfully Llewie is what is called a 'bomb-proof' horse. That means that you could probably light a bomb between his hind legs and he wouldn't kick. For that reason I really don't mind having him around- I can shove him around to my heart's content and never worry about him sneaking up behind me and biting me out of pure spite. Nice horse.

Okay, that's enough for now. I don't want to bore you all to death or anything.