A few days ago I was writing about dealing with the horse blankets, and now it's 66 degrees! Whenever this happens, it's like a little gift; you take it, whisper "thanks," and go about your day not letting yourself think about what weather might be coming down the pike.
I got to the barn late yesterday because I had a much-needed haircut scheduled. It was about 7:15, so Dude and Bestie had basically finished all their dinner hay and were snuffling around in the shavings looking for stray pieces. Both were muddy as anything; it had obviously been a good day outside with a lot of happy rolling in the areas still wet from last week's rain. I chatted with a couple boarders who were still in the barn, then mucked the stalls and curried each of them to get the mud off. Dude had it packed into his hooves like concrete blocks.
I went in and out of their stalls and the tack room numerous times, getting brushes and treats and other stuff, and every time Bestie would see me reappear she would nicker pointedly at me. I got the message ("Take me out for grass NOW slave lady!") but ignored her since it was pretty dark and I really wanted to get home and see what was happening with the election.
I love being in the barn late at night or early in the morning. It's just so peaceful with the sound of horses muching on their hay, and they're generally pretty quiet since they know their routine. They watch what you're doing with idle curiosity but don't get worked up about anything, particularly in the evening, when they know they're in for the night.
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