This week has been heavy on the work and light on the horse, but I went out in my pajamas this morning and threw an apple over the fence into the bucket Rocky had just licked clean of beet pulp and probiotics and hoof supplement.
I threw it hard so it would make a loud noise and his skin startled but his nose followed the apple down and he took a huge bite without hesitation. Cute! I stayed outside the fence while he ate, just admiring him, and then when he was done, he walked to the gate (about 17 of my steps, so, 43 feet ish?) and then looked back at me.
Rocky grazing and muddy:
Wesley and Paco were both out of the Back 40 having their morning supplements, so there were no distractions for Rocky. I couldn’t help myself, I slipped in and he came and noodged me, but not my pockets or fingers — good boy — and so I scratched him a little bit. And then I left, because I’ve got to finish updating a user manual so I can ship it to the online help person today.
Rocky hiding his socks:
He watched me go, again, somewhat astonished that I wasn’t asking him to do anything. Hopefully this is part of undemanding time/friendly game/relationship building, and not part of “my person is so boring I don’t even want to bother going up to her anymore.”
Last night I did wander up to the top of the Back 40, discovering in the process that it’s only mucky muddy down by the fence and gate. Judging by the manure, the horses do go up to the top sometimes, although I’ve never seen them there — must be on their nightly rounds. I sat at the base of a tree and gazed up and Contemplated Life for 20 minutes. The horses were eating and I knew Rocky wasn’t going to come to me, I was far away and up a hill and screened by trees, but the cool thing is that for the first time ever, I truly didn’t care whether horses noticed me or not. I was not there for them, I was there for me, just … resting my heart, for a brief time.
Here’s the view: