Relative Something

When out on a walk around the property yesterday, Cyndie came upon a love message from the burrowing gophers that wreak havoc on our turf.

I guess they’re trying to get on my good side. We definitely don’t have any problems with soil aeration. I assume all the mole and gopher activity is an indication that the world below the surface has plenty of living organisms on which they are feeding.

It would follow that the large population of moles, voles, and gophers around here is why we also have so many snakes, owls, hawks, and coyotes, too –the circle of predators and prey.

The horses were quietly chilling in their post-feeding morning lethargy when the backup-warning beep of the forklift vehicle down at the road put them on alert.

Light ran down to the gate of the paddock, which didn’t provide her much of an advantage because the truck was out of sight over the hill. She stood there for a second with her head held high and ears perked, then returned to the higher ground under the overhang.

I don’t know if the horses have come to recognize the pallet of white bags as their sustenance yet, but as soon as the funky vehicle appeared over the rise, they all relaxed their attention and returned to their previous stupor.

Later, when I rolled the trash bin down to the road with Asher just after sunset, I spotted the horses all grazing in the back pasture. Yes, there are horses visible in that photo, hiding in the darkness below that orange glow in the sky.

When Asher and I got to the road, there was a grain trailer parked in the field yonder that I felt might tempt him to leave our property to investigate. As I tried to park the bin precisely, I was also fumbling to get my hand on the controller for his e-collar in case he didn’t obey my command.

I saw the white flash of a cat dart away from the trailer about the same time that Asher did. My commands didn’t stand a chance. He disappeared after it into the tight rows of dried cornstalks before I could find any of the buttons.

Beeper. As if.

Vibration. Whatever.

Shock. Nope.

Is this thing working? I started pushing all the buttons, trying to hit the control to increase the shock’s intensity. The moderate breeze rattled the dried stalks enough that I couldn’t tell if it was wind or Asher, and I couldn’t see any sign of him in there.

Before anything truly problematic occurred, Asher reappeared around the corner at the near end of the cornstalks as if nothing had happened.

I use the controller so rarely that I need to remember to pay better attention to what I am doing, but I also think we should tighten the collar so it won’t be easy for him to ignore the signals at his choosing.

The day provided a powerful feeling that we are but a small fraction of the much larger amount of animal activity going on around us all the time.

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