Dressed in my Arctic insulated Carhartt jacket, lined jeans, hunter's black and red warm cap with ear flaps, and thinsulate-insulated work gloves, I started toward the horses. Lucky, the beautiful solid black gelding who used to be their stallion, is a special horse. When the feed bins get knocked over, Lucky is the one who straightens back up. If there are more than one flipped over, though, you don't give him the hay until they're all flipped back. Unfortunately, after righting the first one, I carried the hay to the second one to get him to flip that one. He was having none of that! He just refused. So I had to put the hay back into the wheelbarrow and walk toward the house to get my muck boots on. It had rained for days and it still wasn't dry in the horses area. Deep mud, past my ankles, would ruin my regular cowboy boots.
After the muck boots—warm to 80 degrees below zero, supposedly—I returned to the horses. I threw hay into the feed bins that were turned the right way, and then entered the gate to flip the others. Once the horses start eating, they won't knock you down to get food when you step in. I flipped them all over, pulled them closer to the fence, and then stepped out, locked the gate, and threw in the rest of the hay. Then I took the other wheel barrow to feed the other three horses. Toss a flake in here, walk down the road apiece, throw another flake there, and then Taffy gets the final flake. Her enclosure is at the end.
Leaving the wheelbarrow outside, I grabbed the shovel left by Taffy's water bin, stepped inside and whacked the hard crust of ice that had formed on the top of the water. Yes, this is Arizona, but these are the mountains of Arizona and it gets down to freezing at night. After finishing Taffy's water, I locked her gate and proceeded to the other horses water bins. When I finished, my hands, even in the thinsulate-insulated gloves, were cold and the tips of my fingers were numb!
All this time, Moki has been roughly following me, and eating along the way. I have to keep an eye on him in the early mornings like this, because about two blocks over, coyotes had stolen someone's dog from out of their yard. Plus there are some mountain lions around, also. Sunrise and sunset are the key times, but the coyotes had done it in broad daylight. This is still a wild area, and for that, I am grateful. But careful is the best policy.
The afternoon feeding . . . about four . . . is safer, but I can't take Moki out with me then. The mud isn't frozen anymore, and he comes back in after walking into the horse enclosures with soaked and muddy feet. Even in the mornings, his feet aren't clean when he gets home, but I hate to deprive him of his great pleasure.
I have a quote to share with you: "Go where you most feel like yourself." THIS, This here . . . what I am doing and living now . . . this is the true me. I was meant to be around horses, and I don't know how that got away from me for so very long. Horses are my people. I am happy here.
