The Gift of a Horse (or five)

Pets for a day

Just when you think your body cannot wrestle a toddler one more day, or the sun has warmed a little too quickly in the eastern sky, or you haven't yet had the energy to take a shower and the day feels like it's dragging on, something happens to awaken your senses, an experience that invigorates you and gives you inspiration for the day and for days to come.  For me?  It doesn't take much.

My kitchen window is above the sink, so quite a few times in a day I walk past it and take a quick glance or stand in front of it doing dishes.  I did a double-take yesterday when I passed by, for there were five (not one, but five) beautiful horses grazing in the cul-de-sac plot of grass in front of my house.  I went back and looked again.  And again.  Were my senses failing me or was I delirious from keeping a small bundle of energy I call my sweet Preston for four days?  I finally convinced myself that they were indeed real, live horses, not the fairy-tale kind recently viewed while sharing some toddler TV with the little one.  As I watched these gentle giants, they moved gracefully from the plot of cul-de-sac grass towards the woods and disappeared for a few minutes returning I thought to the farm east of our subdivision, only to resurface a few minutes later to reclaim their spot in the circle.  But then, much to my surprise, they began moving towards my house.  I went and scooped up Preston to show her the "horsies."  She was less than impressed. (Perhaps because one time when I was visiting her in Honduras, a man rode his horse to work on their property while I was there).  No, biggie, Nana, seeing a horse in your yard, it happens.  

But as they moved closer, even she began to enjoy their presence.  There appeared to be two who were the "leaders," and I use that term loosely because I know nothing about horses.  But I surmised it was a family of five 
-- you know, a mama and a daddy and three young ones, one of which was very young.  Even Preston could see that this was a baby (because she said so).  He was noticeably smaller than the rest and wore a fuzzy chestnut coat that looked something like one of those nubby throws for sale at Christmas time.  They moved about the offerings of the yards in the neighborhood.  There aren't many houses because our neighborhood is unfinished, but they checked out the few before returning to our yard, where they decided to camp out.  I called my hubby out of my excitement and he produced a mild hissy-fit, knowing that his beautiful yard was gonna be chewed up.  But Preston and I were enjoying every minute.  We watched in silence except for the occasional outburst of toddler chatter.  Several things were obvious as we examined our new friends.  For one, the black one had a bridle on, so they obviously belonged to someone.  Besides, the only "wild" horses even remotely near these parts are on Cumberland Island in South Georgia.  Number two, they were obviously malnourished.  We could see their ribs, so more reason not to deny them a decent meal.  And, thirdly, it was obvious they were used to people.  Preston's screeches from the screened porch didn't faze them.  They were at peace chewing contentedly on the grass in my front yard -- the grass my husband has carefully tried to cultivate this spring.  Yikes.

The hubs arrived home with a police officer in tow who got out of his patrol car as he was dialing animal control. After all, police officers keep law AND order, right?  And something was definitely out of order around here.  A neighbor with some horse experience also showed up shooing the horses away, but it was short-lived as they returned to our front lawn within the hour.  He had also called the neighboring farms and no one had claimed them.  I hated bothering these sweet creatures and would've taken them in for pets, but, alas, they are horses and my yard is postage-stamp size!  Besides, in reality I am not in the market for any kind of pet right now.  As a matter of fact, I recently gave my cat away to a good home.  Don't judge me!  As we dashed out the back door within the same hour to run an errand, the beauties had found their way to our back yard, where they looked up as if to say Excuse me, but is there a problem, sir?  My husband took the water hose to them and, once again, they trotted to the empty lot.  Later in the evening, they were gone.  Either animal control came or their owners showed up to rescue them.

For a short time today, I fantasized I owned five horses.  They grazed and made horse noises and we observed and enjoyed.  And they were perfect pets for a day because they were kind enough to not leave any organic matter behind in my yard.  I thought that so considerate of them.  The photographer in me couldn't resist capturing their image for sharing purposes later.  But as I have said before when I've been known to romanticize horse ownership, I remind myself there is a ton of work that goes into owning and caring for these gorgeous creatures.  Every experience has lessons to be learned, and each time I get around horses, I am reminded of this lesson of hard work that is required in taking care of them -- food, water, grazing pastures, time for grooming, vet bills, the list goes on and on, and it is not a monthly responsibility, it is a daily duty.  I know this because I have friends who own horses.  Right now I am better suited to care for creatures of the human kind.  Caring for my Preston this week has been a gift, but also hard work.  I may have to take a week-long nap to recoup but it is a wonderful tired, if you know what I mean.  Right now in my life I have three amazing grandchildren that I don't see that often but, when I do, I throw everything I have into making sure they know their nana loves them. One day I might have a pet again, when the grandkids are all grown and don't need my care any longer.  If I live long enough, I might even see a great-grandchild or two, but by then I may be too feeble to dance around the living room to Let it Go.  I might just have to watch them as they play on the floor close by with a little kitty in my lap or, who knows, maybe even a horse outside my front porch window. 

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Every experience is to be used, to be learned from,
and to be written down in your life storybook
to be read over and over again
through the years.