Relative Something

When making my way through the swampiest areas of the paddocks, the trick I employ is to choose my steps between the potholes of hoof divots. Where the horse hooves have pushed up gashes of earth, I push the mess back down. When I allow myself to be distracted by the scoopful of manure I’m carrying, a misstep into a water-filled divot delivers an immediate signal from the wetness in my sock up to my brain, reminding me that these boots leak.

We weren’t expecting to wake up to another fresh blanket of snow yesterday morning. It was mostly harmless because there wasn’t that much and it didn’t require any shoveling. By the end of the day, it had all melted, leaving behind just enough moisture to keep things messy for another day or two.

Sunshine is coming. That should brighten everyone’s moods. Maybe kick the grass blades into gear. That would make the horses happy, I suspect. They do an impressive job of finding every spot within the confines of the board-fenced paddocks where new grass is sprouting.

It’s too bad they can’t figure out a way to walk around that doesn’t obliterate the turf that they would love to eat.

In my meanderings around the paddock, I marveled over the difference between places where it appears they must step gently and the surface packs down versus the damage they churn up when stepping with urgency.

At feeding times lately, Mix has been getting worked up in anticipation and for some reason takes it out by harassing Light and Mia. Yesterday she kept chasing them into muddy areas I’m sure they would otherwise choose to avoid. That kicks up an unnecessary mess.

Swings came over and gave Mix a piece of her mind, as if to get her to leave the other two alone. That works as long as Swings stays around. When she moves back to her feeding spot on the other side, Mix ramps her antagonism back up again.

Light and Mia seem to take it in stride, albeit with muddier hooves. As soon as buckets of feed get distributed, everybody calms down and tends to their meal.

That’s when I make my rounds, doing my best to step between all their many divots.

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