This is the phrase we use around here when we have things to do and must summon from the depths the energy needed to get the job done. The tank is never empty; however, sometimes there are just a few drops left. This usually happens in the winter at about 11 p.m., when it’s dark, windy, and below zero out, and I have to go outside and feed, water, pick up poop, and blanket one horse. There are so many times when I would just have rather called it a day and said to myself that the animals will survive. But always, I get out there and get it done. This maybe is the one and only similarity to parenting. I am not the mother of these animals, just their caretaker. But I am a responsible one.

It’s now spring. It’s a mite chilly at night, and the sun’s setting around 10 p.m. The pen is now part way dry – it’s still muddy in places. The water is flowing into the pit, through the underground pipe, out onto the driveway, and onto the road. The smell of horses and horse poop is in the air. I don’t have to put on the suit or winter boots, and though I am wearing gloves, my hands don’t get cold if I don’t have them on.

So yes, the late evening chores are a lot easier than they were previously. Still, tonight I had to dig down deep. Pete and I had our Saturday wilderness responder class. In the morning my classmates and I worked on putting traction on femur fractures and loading me onto the stretcher. And in the afternoon they worked on doing the same and then loading me onto a Life Med helicopter. It was unnerving because I was totally immobile. I also had to be lifted way up so that I could be slid onto the helicopter stretcher. If I had been dropped, it would have been curtains for me.

We got home and Pete took a nap before making dinner. I first spent considerable time pen cleaning – we are down to the near last of the snow, so the debris has surfaced. Then I took Tyra for a ride to the Murphy Road turnoff. She was begging me to go out and in fact had gotten out of the pen and was eating the banana peels the compost. So an outing was in order. She enjoyed being out and so did I. The bit seems to be bothering her, so on the return trip I attached her reins to her halter and rode her that way. She then said ahh and got down to business. She’s going to have her teeth floated shortly.

I put her away and then ate dinner. After, Pete took Tinni and Ryder and I took Hrimmi for a walk around the loop. Here’s the dig down deep part. There was one horse left. It was 9:30 p.m. I looked at Raudi and then asked myself, is my getting her out absolutely necessary? The answer was no, but . . .

I stood momentarily, deep in thought. There’s always tomorrow. This is credo that many horse people have, but sad to say, tomorrow never comes. I reminded myself of this, then haltered her and off we went. It was a good jog.

I was of course really glad during and after that I dug down deep. Taking action is its own reward. These all are such wonderful animals – a joy to interact with. So digging down deep is the least of what I can do for them.

Next: 95. April 7, 2019: Father’s Birthday