Relative Something

It is hard to ignore the precision I employ in cleaning up beneath the horses when comparing the area around the barn overhang after a weekend of someone else taking care of things. My obsessiveness becomes much more obvious after I find how much manure is scattered in places I normally clean up but the “real” horse people disregard.

I’ve seen no clear evidence that the horses care either way, but I tend to believe they appreciate my fastidiousness. It’s kind of cute when they make a clear gesture of walking over to stand and poop where I am working. They can be so helpful that way. However, the fact that they so often step in the piles and kick them around every which way when I’m not there makes it seem like they might be sending me a different message.

It was really great to have a few days away from horse duty but the amount of pleasure I’m finding from being back with them again tells me I might be more attached to them than I was aware.

Oddly, I had a rather extreme dream where I was rubbing my face against Mix (like I do when wrestling with Asher) and found myself having a too-close encounter with her teeth.

No close encounters in real life yesterday while I was moving amongst the herd before bringing out their rations. They seemed especially content. Like they were happy to have us home.

The un-winter-like weather may have had something to do with that, too, I suppose.

Not much seems to fail when nature serves up its finest versions of non-threatening conditions.

I’m feeling especially content to be able to enjoy the horses while they are all getting along and radiating the ultimate in equine peacefulness. It’s a pretty special thing to return to after a weekend away.

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