Relative Something

For horses that have suffered neglect under the watch of humans, witnessing them now demonstrating trust in us is beyond precious. I know I have said it before, but it is such an honor and a privilege to stand among them while they eat the grain I have just distributed. When they allow me to encroach on their space to hang hay bags or clean the ground beneath them, it feels like they’re granting me a mystical connection.

I’ve seen them get ornery with each other, and it can look downright wicked before a quick return to calm. Some mornings, it’s not strange to find one or more of them all worked up about something until I finally get their grain served. Then, everyone settles down and focuses on the business at hand.

Yesterday morning, they were all chill as could be when Asher and I rounded the corner of the path around the back pasture into sight of the barn. They stood patiently while I cleaned everything up beneath the overhang, sometimes watching me but usually appearing to ignore me as they kept their eyes on the distant landscape.

It felt more damp than cold as the temperature hovered around the freezing point. That temperature range creates a situation where it is hard to tell if things are going to be wet or frozen. The driveway offered a little bit of both.

The circular spots were slippery, while the rest of the pavement wasn’t. It made it tricky for me to walk on. I chose to stay off to the side as Asher entertained himself by trying to maintain forward momentum when every third step would suddenly lose purchase.

In the time it took us to finish our last portion of the morning dog walking routine, the horses were done with their feed buckets, allowing me to reclaim them in avoidance of unwanted shenanigans from the mares. Given a chance, they have a knack for bending the handles all out of shape.

At that point, the horses’ attention switches to the hay bags they had just seen me fill.

As I unclip each bucket, I like to imagine the horses are thanking me for the fresh hay.

“It’s an honor,” I tell them.

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