This morning as I turned off State Street in Lindon and headed down the long driveway to the stables, I noticed piles of horse manure all along the drive. This is unusual. I thought perhaps a horse had gotten out. I parked in front of the barn next to Tasha. As Niamh and I got our boots on, we noticed Tasha was stressed out while she spoke on her cell phone.
It turns out my guess about a horse getting out was partially right: all eight of the back paddock horses had escaped. Thank goodness the gate leading out to the street was locked or there might have been horses cruising up and down State Street.
To get them back to the paddock, Tasha told me she loaded up a bucket with grain and the party girls followed her back to the paddock.
I'm really glad she got to the stables first this morning (she usually does)--I'm not sure what Niamh and I would have done besides sit there, puzzled, and making vain attempts to get the horses back to the paddock.
Poor Cash, the resident stallion, was sweaty from pacing back and forth in his stall. Of course, all the escapees were mares--poor Cash--how he must have been filled with longing! I would NOT go into his stall to change his water until he'd been served up his morning hay to distract him. Don't get me wrong--Cash is a sweetheart of a stallion and Shauna has him well trained; however, this morning, the siren call of potential love and sex really had the poor boy longing to get out of his stall.
Niamh and I burst out laughing as we came around the corner of the barn to see the horses in the paddock. I've never see this before. They were all standing in a circle, facing each other. They looked absolutely guilty. Two of them--including Bitsy, the mare I ride--were lying down, just fat and stuffed. They'd gotten into the grain, nibbled on the hay, and we think they got into a bag of apples.
I don't know about you, but all those carbs would make me giddy!
The ground on the side of the barn was covered with hoof prints as was the gravel area we park in. Those girls really did have a party, tearing up the ground, nibbling the sides of the haystacks.
I'm surprised they didn't T.P. the barn or something.
I was just about done watering when the gate to Bella's stall broke and fell off its hinges. It was a long time in coming, but still, it was inconvienant. Tasha put a new chain on the gate and positioned it so Bella couldn't get out. She thought about it, and decided we'd have to take out that section of fencing (it includes the gate) and replace it with a newer section. Tasha tied up Bella and Dream in the back of their stalls.
Tasha got a mallet and started wacking away, getting the pegs loose out of the brackets that held them. I helped her by pulling and pushing as needed. "If you're ever in a bad mood, just come down here, get this mallet and start pounding the dents out of the fences," she said.
We moved the old section of fencing against the barn wall. Then we went around to the other side of the barn and through a series of manuevers--we had to open the gate of one stall, then another--to get the fence section manuevered around the corner. I think what helped Tasha out was not my strength but pushing my sheer weight into the fence as we struggled to get it into place. Yes, for once being "morbidly obsese" was helpful!
It's times like this it's obvious I am 27 years older than Tasha! She sure is patient with me!
Once we got the fence into place and Tasha untied the horses, it seemed as though we should have had a bottle of wine or a cake to celebrate! Niamh came out from the arena--she'd been riding Souix. Tasha told Niamh, "Hey, your mom is tougher than she looks."
Niamh gave her a skeptical smile! I have to admit, I felt a bit self-satisfied while knowing full well I'd be sore later. I really think the yoga I've been doing is giving me more flexibility and strength.
Before we left, Niamh and I walked over to the paddock again. Bitsy and Heartbreaker were lying down still. Bitsy slowly stood up--being middle-aged like me, she was a bit stiff.
Yeah, that's what you get for partying like a young filly, Bitsy.
What a day. Niamh and I chuckled all the way home about the party girls in the back paddock.
If I didn't sweat off some weight today, I'll be miffed.
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