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December 15, 2012: Being Horse, Being Human

As I write this, I’m on the verge of tears. But tears aren’t forthcoming. I sometimes get this way after a stressful day. Our having to deal with the snow and Mr. Tinni’s wound qualifies. But today, things are markedly better. Must be some kind of backlash.

Mr. Tinni spent the night in the middle enclosure, by himself, which is exactly what he wanted. He’s by nature a solitary fellow, so this suited him well. He was sequestered between Siggi and Hrimmi, who shared the foal stall, and Raudi and Signy, who shared the paddock space. Fortunately, Raudi’s food aggression issues seem to be a thing of the past. She and Signy are now eating companionably.

This morning Tinni was, when I greeted him, very chipper. His wound looked good. He dove into his hay when I put it in the trough, and drank water after Pete broke the ice on top of the bucket. The stitches held nicely and the laceration

looked clean. I put some Furazone on it, and took him for a walk. He had a nice bounce to his step, but stood still when a mother moose and calf crossed our path. And he later greeted the neighbor kids, who came over and gave him treats.

The temperature has dropped. It’s below zero, which increases the likelihood of frostbite. But I’m thinking the skin will hold and that there won’t be any slough.

Being a horse is a difficult preposition, as is being human. Horses like Tinni mature, and in the process figure out who it is (at any given moment) that’s acting in their best interest. And people like me mature, and figure out who it is (at any given moment) that’s acting in our best interest. This makes us horse and makes us human.

I was, yesterday, again struck by the fact that Pete has always acted in my best interest. Then I got to thinking – I’ve often told younger women that they would do best to end up with a rich man. But wait, I thought – this isn’t right. It’s far more accurate to tell them that they would do best to end up with a younger man.

Pete’s six years younger than I am. There are, of course, what I consider to be some major cultural gaps. I’m of the Nixon era, and he’s of the Reagan era. I’m of the Vietnam War era and he’s of the Operation Desert Storm era. I’m of the Howdy Doody era and he’s of the Hogan’s Heroes era. I’d say we should clear the decks, but one can’t disavow their supposedly inconsequential past.

Here’s what’s really of consequence. Women generally outlive men. So if Pete was older than me, there would exist the likelihood that he’d die first. I’d then be up shit creek big time, because I’d then have to be super-responsible, handy, pragmatic, and frugal. For example: Yesterday Pete was all these things when he rigged up the light for Dr. Dent. This was after spending a long day dealing with our snowfall situation. (The tractor, he finally decided, needs a snow blowing implement). An older man, that is one lacking in youthful energy, might not have had it in him to do all that younger Pete did yesterday.

I have no doubt that Tinni feels as I do – he too is grateful to have someone around who will go the extra mile when the daylight is waning. And neither he nor I take this for granted. Hence, for me, the tears that don’t seem to come.

Next: 369. 12/16/12: Raudi’s Facebook Page