Our brains are programmed as such that we take for granted that which is revelatory or out of the ordinary. I am as guilty of this as anyone else. I will use the horses as an example. Yesterday I did agility in the morning, and they did just fine. In the afternoon they were introduced to a two-year-old and vice versa. They were very gentle with her, and they did not move when being brushed. Then in the evening, I took them all for separate trail rides.

In Iceland, for centuries, the expectation has been that the horses be good tempered, intelligent, and willing to endure the duress of sometimes long treks. Those that are ill tempered, stupid, and unwilling to endure the duress of sometimes long treks are (literally) put on the menu. It is a brutal practice, and in hearing about it, I am filled with remorse.

However, I have benefited from this obsessive gene pool maintenance. I have four horses who are reliable in all respects. And, yes, I take it for granted; that is, until I’m around horses that are reactive.

We had a visitor here not so long ago. She tied her horses to the hitching post and they both broke free of their baling twine tethers. They were big horses, and immediately ran over to fraternize with our little horses. The owner captured them, and again tied them to the hitching post.

Ryder and Shadow

Now, if I sold my horses and purchased, say, Arabs, or Arab crosses, I would be less inclined to take what I have for granted. That’s the way the mind works. Present it with a less desirable option, and the truth then makes itself apparent.

I also take it for granted that I’m fit enough to ride all four horses in a given day.

I also take it for granted that we have an excellent farrier, veterinarian, and hay dealer.

I also take it for granted that I have a partner who, while he isn’t horse obsessed, will go for a ride every so often.

I also take it for granted that I live on the border of state land, and thus I have a limited trail system next door, which means I don’t have to trailer the horses to go for a ride.

Like my friend Heather once said, I am horse rich.

There is a downside to all this, and today it raised its ugly head. A neighbor came over, rode up the driveway on her bicycle. I stepped outside and we engaged in a lengthy chat. She is in her 60s and incredibly fit. She proceeded to tell me about her most recent bicycle trek, one in which she bicycled the Denali Highway. All went according to plan and she had a wonderful time.

She needed to tell someone, I guess. She didn’t ask me about what I’d been up to. If she had, I would have told her my thoughts on taking things for granted, using the horses as an example. But I refrained because some are bored by horse talk. Maybe some other time. Then again, maybe not.

Next: 210. 7/31/21: Goodbye July