Raudi’s birthday is actually tomorrow. We celebrated it today because I will still be in Anchorage. I am here now. I would rather have celebrated her birthday on her birthday, but this was not to be.

I tried to make it a day to remember for her. It turned out to be just the same old birthday routine. I took yet another yellow Millenium Gold bucket lid and with a Sharpie, wrote “22” on it. I momentarily thought that it 2024 and she was 21. Pete corrected me. Yes, we now have 22 lids floating around. Millenium Gold is no longer on the market but we are still using the buckets to haul water and the lids to mark this wonderful occasion.

I next brushed Raudi – she’s now on the flip side of her spring shed. No more sheets of hair coming off when I use the scraper. I also brushed her mane and tail using Cowboy Magic. As I worked, she ate her hay, stopping mid chew when I went to put her bridle on. She can eat with it on or with it off, it does not matter to her.

I next saddled her. Then Pete appeared with his camera, and he, Shadow, and I made our way down to the road where we always take photos.

In past years there were snow berms. This year, there are brown patches interspersed with white patches.

But it was much the same. Raudi would not stand still. And all the while, she had her ears back. It was also Shadow’s birthday – she’s now five years old. Unreal. I’d say she’s four but obviously I am a year behind myself.

I dismounted and looked at the photos. I am grimacing in all but one, so this is going to be the photo that accompanies this dispatch.

The more years you have an animal, the more memories you have. Raudi was, and always will be, a willful mare. Her motto should be, “It’s my way or the highway.” I do not know if she loves or cares about me because she’s not a demonstrative horse. She will come to me out on the road if I let her loose. And she will stop if I yell whoa. She senses that if she obeys, she will get a treat. What I will never know is if her responses to my requests (and this is what they are) are food driven, emotion driven, or both. I’m going to say both.

We communicate just fine. I’d like to think that she is aware that I feel joy in her presence. It could be chemical. It could be my body language. Or it could be my voice. Conversely, she knows when I’m pissed and if she, say, has barged past me, smells, feels, senses my ire. I have to wait until I cool down before she will let me catch her.

The balance, the balance, the balance – I must find it and soon so that I have more to say about our relationship next year at this time.

Next: 103. 4/14/25: Coming Down with Something