Irony and Asymmetry

What did you say??
Blaze has been learning to count. She's up to four, and then she really starts giggling. Blaze loves to run huge ovals around me, my nucleus to her electron. "Get the Geese!" is the latest bugle call for her inspiration. She reaches Mach 7, her ears whistling and whirling, I point down, and she drops into a shoulder roll, from about her chest height. She's a tackler of ground. Gotcha!
If she's looking directly AT the geese, and starting to slink/stalk them, a "get the geese" from me elicits her instant attention and hilarious offers of more silly behaviours, the geese completely forgotten. So, I have no idea what "Get the Geese" means. But it's exciting!

Derby Weekend for AC, you know, the horse in the neighbour's garage.
Well, Rebel 4, whomever you were, thanks for getting old AC mucked out last weekend. Thanks for giving him the extra hay net. Where are you now? AC's garage door is now wide open, very good for air purposes. Doesn't change the air flow down low, but hey, allowing more air is good. It's free, too.


A lone, lonely horse is just the wrong picture. Horses are sad. So is old Chief. Horses are HERD animals. Companionship is crucial is just about all warm-bloods of any species. Heck, cold-bloods too. Nothing wants to be alone for long stretches of time. (Well, except me. This is due in part of the growing up with an incessant talker, my older, shorter sister. I blame her for EverYthing.)

So, that's what I see as I drive in my driveway, what I drive past, to get home. Kinda hard to ignore/invisiblize. The wrong picture.

I'm managing, though. I couldn't help noticing that it was 8:30pm, as I typed this, and neighbour hadn't been here since I got home. His net was empty at 2pm. Meh, he's a chicken. His weight isn't any worse, thank heavens. All the phone calls, maybe. But give her time. Oh, Good! There she is.
Still no hoof sign, and I keep hoping to find some.

His expression breaks my heart, lets leave it at that. Despair. Quiet, withdrawn, cribbingcribbingcribbing. Staring at the wall, he was, when husband came home tonight. Dreaming of paddocks with grass.

Rebel 4? Come back, take him home? He needs room to move. He's a horse. You know? All they know is in their feet. Their feet are what keeps them alive. Stop their feet, you stop their life. Sooner, or later.

Just my opinion. According to horse industry normals, they can stand for the rest of their lives, and it's to be expected, if they shrink a bit.

Thanks for this link, Paddy.
Perils of Stall Confinement You would think it was just common sense, wouldn't you?
So frustrating when common sense is an oxymoron.

With people like that in the animal owner world, something must be terribly wrong in the universe.

Considering the terrible stories of the day, a horse in a garage is really NBD. It's just more of the same "there's something wrong" reminder.

Good luck to the Gulf of Mexico. Greece. The Planet.

Does anybody else think our mother earth is sloshing just a bit? Maybe if we all stomp our feet at the same time... We could tamp this sucker back down.

Let's try a synchronized stomp, tomorrow, May 7, 7pm eastern time.
What the heck, it couldn't hurt:)