Animal Speak

It's a Saturday morning in May and when I went to bed last night, very late, I told myself I would sleep in a bit. This past week, I have been going to bed much too late as just about every evening I've been binging on astrology charts and reminding myself of all the glyphs involved. When a Sagittarius dives into the next topic of interest, it is all consuming.

As it goes in life with animals, your plans are mere pipe dreams.

So it was at some time shortly before 7:00 a.m. that something woke me up and got me out of bed to look out my window. And there he was, Alibi, standing still but whipping and winding his neck around the way he does when he's got something to say.

A couple of weeks ago, just as I was heading to bed a little earlier than usual and feeling proud of that, I feel him trotting back and forth across the paddock. Then I hear his high pitched and forceful nostril snort. Something is not right out there and Alibi wants everyone to know.

I went out onto the deck, the goodles were standing back and watching Alibi for any signal telling them what to do next. I turned on all the outside lights while I hurried back in to put on jeans, grab my mag light, headlamp, gloves because you never know, sturdy shoes ready for whatever. Out with me go the dogs. In the event it's a cougar or coyote, or wandering human, I hope their barking will disrupt the intruder's thinking.

Alibi comes up to me but not taking his eyes off behind him. He's making sure I'm fully aware that he is not comfortable. With his energetic tether, he leads me to the corner of the paddock and directs me to look across the road to the treed landscape. Like any momma protecting her herd, I put a gentle hand on him recognizing his skin is tense and twitching, but just enough so he can feel that I have things under control now and he can let down a bit. He knows this.

With fresh batteries in my headlamp, I head out through the gate onto the road shining my mag light through the bushes and up into the trees, back and forth, looking for any reflective eyes looking back at me. I check back with Alibi to see where his gaze is focused and explore further.

In the end, I find nothing and I head back through the gate not knowing what caused his alarm. He came back over to me and over came the goats. The four of us stood together in the quiet night, letting go of any fear. When I could feel their tension slip away and I could hear Alibi's breath soften, I knew I could start contemplating bedtime again.

Getting back to this morning, unlike the other night, Alibi was not snorting. There was no audible sound from him but he most certainly called me. As I noted his neck wringing, with really really tired eyes I started to take in the scene. He had managed to get his hind leg caught in the electric net fencing around the pear trees.

For my convenience only, I do not have the fence energized. For the most part, they all assume it's always hot...until they don't.

Here we go again, dress up, head out. The goodles are once again standing back and side by side, not in fear this time but in concern. They understand that getting closer to him may stress him out.

Alibi knows me so well he knows I'm there to solve his every problem. He recognizes his hind leg is caught. If you know anything about an animal, you know that anything around their legs generally sets them to panic, particularly animals considered prey. Their legs are their escape. But rather than panic and try to pull out of the fence, which really would be typical of many other horses, he was standing still trusting I would hear his call.

As I approach, not speaking a word, he poops. Ha! Finally he can relax. He cooperates and lifts his hind leg for me so I can untangle the fence and kiss him with reassurance that he is safe to move. Once again, the goodles come over now that everything is clear, and the morning carries on like any other day.

The thinking goes that I might as well scoop poop, let the girls out, and put out some hay while I'm out there.

Tomorrow. Maybe I'll sleep in tomorrow.

If you want to hear what a horse snort sounds like to alert others to danger, this is a good example:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtxecUYUH8A

Alibi freezing mid-bite to key in on a deer friend across the road

New Rules #107

If you're going to take a horse off the property for a walk, you must be sure to lock the goodles in the dry lot before setting out.

It was Faramir's turn for a good walk around the neighborhood.  The goats were out tearing through my nicely stacked hay bales, the dogs have learned to sit by the corner of the fence until they see us coming back up the rise, the hens were scratching in the softening earth.

As we head out on my road, the dogs run along the fence to the furthest corner they can and then sit and wait for our return.

Faramir and I got about 1/4 mile out on our walk when it dawned on me that when the dogs run, the goats run.  And what's in that furthest corner where the poodles wait?  The hen house.

"Argh! Come on Faramir!" I blurted as we did an about face and attempted a respectful jog back home.  As we came up the rise in sight of the hen house, I called out and I could see Pippin outside the hen house, which only meant Shadow was inside.  Goats are definitely not supposed to eat grain and once they get a taste it's good luck momma trying to get a 180lb horned goat to give it up.

We made it back, heart in my throat, Faramir wondering what that fuss was about, got the gate unchained, convinced Pinkie not to nip at the horse, chained the gate again and breathlessly stumbled our way to the hen house.  As predictable goat behavior would have it, I made a really scary sound and Shadow came bolting out eyes wide open looking for that big monster.  I lunged forward and quickly closed and latched the door. "Whew." I let my breath catch up and turned for Faramir who had walked off to take in his own moment of exploration.

All was well.  All secured.  Faramir was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to meet the neighbors I had told him about but Alibi sure was glad we were back early enough for him to get out for a walk.

I followed my new rule and delighted in an easy pace until the sun set with my horse.

Why Not Baseball Blog?

There have been quite a few curve balls being pitched my way these past few months.  Some have been easier to swing at than others.  Some have been just too darned wild to gain focus to begin to grip.

Then there are the moments when the pitch comes right to me.  An easy, "here you go" kind of pitch.

I still cannot identify that constellation in the south sky.  Tonight one of the stars was really flickering red.  And then just above it, the Milky Way was streaming.  As I sat on the stoop at the barn letting the goodles out for a late night stadium-fare, Rayito, one of my feral cats, comes walking out from behind the barn.  I haven't seen him lately.  He comes in just close enough to catch his vibe, he looked over at me to let me know he was doing alright, and pitter-pattered over to crouch down and watch the goodles browse.

I nodded my head in appreciation of the moment.

As I was walking back to the house, admiring the sparkling red star in my unknown constellation, a shooting star pitched itself in my direction.  I laughed.  I put out my catcher's mitt and caught that star in flight.