Every evening about 5ish I walk up the hill and feed my two horses.
I should share with you that technically that are not MY horses. They were left to graze on 12 acres several years ago. Their owners are MIA; apparently they were left in this field like 7 years ago. For many many months I have been grooming them, feeding them, and loving them. When I whistle or call they come from the brush.
This pasture and time of the day is quite simple my “happy place”. I spend an hour or two every night caring for them. It is just the four of us (me, Coco, Moki and Blaze) hanging out. It is like a meditation for me. And…truth be told I really don’t want to share it with anyone. Guests at the Bed and Breakfast have asked if they can come feed the horses with me and I begrudgingly say yes hoping that they will forget they asked. Is that bad? Any way, I get so much more from the hour of quiet time with my horses than I do anything else. We (the horses and I) have grown so close I can now lay my head on Blaze’s head or back and hug her for long periods of time before she needs to sift her weight. Moki, the male, falls asleep when I rub his ears. I could talk about this for hours but I will spare you.
Recently I learned that apples are a bit hard on the Old Mare’s (Blaze) system. She gets really gassy. Therefor these two get a very healthy dose of carrots.
With all the work going on here; prepping for our April 21 Farm to Fork dinner, Guests, one-acre project, and currently the most important the shade house. I haven’t made it to Costco for a big bag of carrots. Yes, I know I will defiantly be growing carrots on the one-acre soon. So I had to give them apples last night. This is when the real party got started!
So I walk up to the pasture with Coco. The horses are already waiting for me. I have a bag of apples. I always start by feeding Blaze first because she is the alpha. So I hand her an apple or two. Then I turn to feed Moki. The bag of apples in my left hand a single slice of apple in my right hand. As Moki eats the apples out of my right hand and I am making eye contact with Moki saying things like “How is my Moki, How is mommas boy today!?”. Blaze grabs the ENTIRE sack of apples from my left hand and takes off running. Dropping apples everywhere!
This is when I totally panic. Images of her suffocating on the bag or her chocking on the bag or the bag getting caught in her GI track and her dying a slow painful death are running rampant in my head. Moki had is butt leaning up against the gate while he is cleaned the ground of all the apples that fell from the bag. Opening the gate was totally out of the question. No matter how hard I tried to push Moki he wasn’t moving from the gate or the pile of apples. So I did what any good horse mom would do. I did a MacGyver dive onto the other side of the fence.
Ok…lets just stop for one quick minute. Please tell me you guys remember MacGyver. The 80’s TV show with the guys who could make a bomb from like duck tape, chewing gum, and a pencil. If you don’t remember then I may hyperventilate. OK that’s all. Back to the story.
So I had like a 6-inch gap in the barbed wire to squeeze myself through.
Some how I did it. But…not with out scratching myself up and ripping my precious black yoga pants (which is ok I have as many yoga pants as there are surf boards in the state of Hawaii). Once I made it through the fence and unhooked myself from all that barbed wire. I grabbed the darn bag of apples and told Blaze that I was mad. Real mad. But it was kind of funny so I giggled nervously while the adrenaline finished pumping through my veins. I shoed Moki from the gate and made my way back to my normal spot where I continued to giggle nervously for a few minutes. Because I love Blaze so very much I did grab the remaining four slobbery half chewed apples from the bag and fed them to her.
Look at her.
Poor girl all she wanted was a bag of apples. Thank god I had my camera with me so I could share this lovely experience with you. And thank god my lovely Blaze is ok. I think that her feelings were a little hurt. I think that she was equally traumatized. She is sensitive that way.