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February 24, 2021: Horses Being Horses

I’m Alys, and I have a problem. I anthropomorphize excessively. All the time, I speculate as to what the goats, chickens, dogs, and horses are thinking. And furthermore, I believe that what I am thinking is what they are thinking. This is what happens when you spend days on end with those of fur, fin, and feather.

Every so often I am reminded that to the degree that I do this is detrimental in that I’m impinging on their inner space. Sometimes, I suspect that the animals that reside here would just like to be left alone. They do a good job of clueing clueless me in.

Two instances: As I write of these two instances, I feel like I’m baring my soul. Here I supposedly am, the kind, caring, astute horse owner, admitting that twice in the past two days, I erred.

Raudi's first time in hobbles - Summer 2011

Incident #1. Yesterday I took Tyra for a walk on our trails. Pete didn’t have the time to mess with the fancy rigging on her saddle. So off we went. She happily bounded through the woods. Then three quarters of the way home, on the snowmobile raceway, she made a beeline for home. I could have kept her from running off, by putting her on the lead line a bit sooner. But no, I let her gallop off, and in this way, I put her life at risk.

Incident # 2. Today I set off for a ride on Raudi, on our trails. I sensed that she was anxious when a car came up behind us on the road (I was walking her) and she spooked and spun around. Once on the trail, we both became aware of the fact that it was heavily trafficked. We could hear the whrr whrr whrr of the dirt bike snowmachiners, and, as well, the helicopter overhead. The smell of two-cycle exhaust was also heavy in the air. We got to Peaches Trail where Raudi alerted on two skiers with a dog. We took off in the direction of Tin Can. She bolted. We came to the first downhill. I knew that she was going to bolt again, so I hopped off.

I assumed, being my loyal companion of many years, that she would stay put. Oh no. She dove off trail, into the chest high snow, and she kept going. I attempted to follow but soon realized I could not.

I didn’t see where she went, so I headed back in the direction of home. Yes, there was a feeling of betrayal. Also, I was concerned about her well-being since I’d been riding with short reins. Wrap a rope around a leg and it’s curtains.

I got home, concerned neighbors alerted Pete to the fact that I was out on the trail. And they made sure that Raudi got home safely.

I was embarrassed. The odds are, of course, the more you are out on the trail, the greater the likelihood of such things happening. The reason is this, plain and simple. Horses are horses, prey animals. They are pretty much focused on two things: The first is, will I be eaten? And the second is, what is there to eat? There. I’m now on the eighth step of the twelve-step program.

Next: 56. 2/25/21: The Mares Weigh In, Again

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