The bird song outside my window was a lovely way to greet the morning. I lay there, eyes still closed, listening to the ambitious melody of birds in the great, white birch tree along that side of my house. Trying to follow their conversation, I was startled by a non-bird sound. Clip-clop, at a rapid tempo, of not one but at least 3 horses, on the pavement in front of my house. My clock confirmed the time: 4:40am.
I sat bolt up in bed, and listened harder trying to place the direction of the hoofbeats. 'were they coming toward or going away from the farm? If I hear 3, where are the other six horses? With the trees in full leaf, I couldn't see anything, yet. Outta bed, trying not to fall on shaky legs, trying to focus my blurred morning vision... I made my way to the bedroom door and down the central stairs. Now I could see them. Three geldings, my brown horses, trotting gracefully north on route 109. 'they'll turn for the barn and I'll have them...' Nope, they ignored my thoughts and continued briskly up the easterly neighbor's drive way. 'good enough, they'll put their heads down in his ample grass to eat; I'll have time to gather halters and ropes and walk them back...' But meantime, 'where is the rest of the herd?' I grabbed Honda car keys and fired out to check the summer pasture behind my house. Half way up the old farm road, along side the 8 acre field, I could see them, all six swatting flies and un-concerned about their eloped herdmates. I counted heads and named them in my mind. 'good, the alpha mares are here still; that's why these ponies didn't go venturing with their boys...' I need these horses to stay put, 'don't follow the naughty ponies...'
Driving back to the barn, I threw in two bales of hay and a bag of grain returning to the good ponies at near frantic speed. As I scurried to put out their grain, I remembered I'm wearing pink pajamas, satin no less, a curious sight if my neighbors are awake this Sunday morning. Dashing to my back door, with hay in the car, I skidded up the hilly lawn and I put out the hay by the water tank. Food is the best reason for a horse to stay put; I needed this to work while I figure it out.
I puzzled the options for the escapees. I didn't hear hoofbeats on pavement and so believed they were grazing next dooryard. I'd collect them and apologize for damages as I back filled the dipples in that turf. I had time to change and take some water for my panic-parched throat. When I began pulling my car out the drive, a neighbor rolled in. My car clock blinked 5: 10am. I have to get going, traffic will pick up soon and endless blind curves and hollows on this road.
"Are you missing any horses? There are 3 on our lawn! we're a mile away...the little log cabin...can I help?" she queried from her window. I paused long enough to register those precious words. "yes, you can block north bound traffic, I'll drive after them and try to nudge them home...they are lost and confused without their boss mares... but they won't know to avoid cars..." I grabbed a ball cap to keep the stray hair out of my face.
Winding north, a trolley speed, I spotted them sauntering back toward home, but still a thin mile out. Horrible piece of road for sightlines; hitting one of these thousand pound horses would be fatal for horse and car alike. This thought set me to shaking. I'm insured, but not enough if there is a strike. I eased north of them and herded them with the nimble Element. Until they spotted a lawn, then cut off the road for the lush grass; this was my chance to halter them. I borrowed the driveway to park and quietly stepped out. The horses were curious but hyper alert as this was not their pasture. They were content until they heard the halter rings jingle. Heads held up, they started trotting off the lawn. A shake of the plastic grain scoop and they stopped quick and rolled back cutting the rain softened turf. I'll apologize and repair this one as I approached and haltered the wayward lads, hooking a lead onto the alpha gelding. I finally took my first deep breath, and walked the lead horse off the lawn. Just in time for the first vehicle of morning, a large container truck in full chrome, to race past us blowing off my cap. 'f*%#er I thought, he'd kill a horse just to be on time for his donut'. It was my first, and only cuss of the morning. Haste and hassle have no place with horses; especially not with at-risk horses.
Facing my horse in hand, I puzzled still more, ' I've a thin mile to gettem home, the others will follow him, I know; but I can't leave my car, can't walk that far on my wobbly legs... 10 years ago I could have easily... but not these days. Lord, make me strong and smart here...' I looked at my car, the large driver's window, the empty road... I will lead him from the car; I have to. These horses are used to following a car for race starts. This horse is smart, obedient and fearless. If we all stay calm and just breathe, with no impatient drivers, if neighbor stops all northbound traffic, we will get back without mishap. That's the plan. Now to think it there...
My tall, elegant gelding wasn't too sure of his first step aside my vividly orange Honda. Thankfully, the all-wheel drive rig sat high off the ground; that put the horse's head at a natural height for our walk back. The first half mile went easy and I wondered what my horse training mentors would say if they could see this sight. GoGo walked casually with his mates behind him in perfect hiarchey to his lead, until we rounded the corner that put our homestretch in sight. With a tenth of a mile to go, the younger geldings burst out in front like the race horses they were bred to be. I had to drop the lead shank and hope their common sense would guide them to the barn. As they broke away from my mindful grasp, I watched their beauty and held my breath.
Down into the barnyard and into the parlor they trotted gratefully. Safe at last, I could hook onto their halters, feed them each their grain and scold them while they chewed. "what were you thinking? you've never gone so far in your jaunts, you went past all the hayfields, what made you do that?" With the horses secure, I went up the road to thank my neighbor and send her along. "Amazing they came back like that... safe a sound...just lucky...", she offered. My sincere response, "... thank you for helping with traffic, only the early morning saved them... I'm surprised they left the herd at all... the storm last night must have broken fence and they found it...alls well that ends well...", my voice was shaking as I spoke. All the adrenalin and crisis had caught up to me. I went back home to check the grazing horses who stayed with their feed. 'I'll have to sit a bit, eat a little and move them to the barn later...' I reflected on how lucky I was, my young boyz slept through it all, no real harm was done, just another year off my life and more gray hair, and the hard reality that I must dissolve this dream of mine... I must acknowledge my limits in health and finance and farm. I must let go of my model horse centered experiment, once and for all....before I loose it in tragedy. Everything happens for a reason; this was my wake up call. At 5:55 am, I finally had a cup of coffee and resolved to re-home the last rescued horses of a 20 year odyssey in equine welfare. It's time to let it go. Some dreams die hard; I'm grateful that this one is quietly slipping away.
peace ~ ell
this one is for the awesome brown horses who teach me in every way
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