horses and what they know

When I went out to the barn this morning I told the herd, "I'm okay, but I'm going to be slow."

The demeanor in the barn was absolutely quiet and respectful. Cody stood in the back door of his stall, as if to say "I'm giving you plenty of space, don't worry!"

There was no Hanoverian chorus, no pony hoof, no squeaky hinges. They were prepared to wait, even when I had to make 3 trips, a cautionary measure, as it is raining AGAIN and I normally have quite an armful when I walk out to make breakfast tubs.

Funny, though, when my daughter arrived to help, the volume went on and up. It was as if they knew: she has back-up now, so we can get back to our normal breakfast routine!

By the end of it, as tubs were being served, Keil Bay had held in so much anticipatory energy he was about to burst. He was bobbing his head wildly over the stall door, and drool was flinging everywhere. But when I got to his door and said "go to your manger" he did it, knowing that today I really couldn't tolerate any sudden moves.

It's the same as when someone who isn't used to horses comes to the barn, and they are that much more careful around that person, knowing somehow that they need to be a bit more mindful than usual.

It doesn't surprise me when the horses respond this way, because it's what they are wired to do - but it always gives me pause and a sense of awe.

I'm a little bit sore today from being bowled over, but I think a hot bath will help with that. Moving through the morning chores (slowly, carefully) already worked out some of the kinks.

Now if we can just get through this rain without floating away.