The day started out like any other Sunday.
I watched, as Rustic Russ packed his horse, Raz, for the ride across town, crossing the highway, past a small lake, and into the hills and beyond.
Treats for himself. Treats for Raz. Raz has come to know the old cast-off light blue Bugler can that holds his tasty nuggets each week, snuggled in the leather saddle bag.
As usual, they get escorted out the drive by the two left behind.
Soon, it will be three left behind as Chero comes to stay with us for good, once his summer stint is done at the Troyer’s riding stable.
But wait!! What’s this?? A very scary, horse-eating plant! Who put that there?
If you know about horses, you know anything “new” like this may cause concern. It could be a mailbox, a balloon, a wild turkey, a new pile of wood. Spook training is essential when the horse is being trained. Rustic Russ trained Raz. Opening umbrellas, tarps in a heap, pop cans crinkling, flags fluttering, the list is endless. And you would think they would get the hang of it after a while.
But not today. Not this 1/2 Mustang. Don’t let his size fool you. He’s big. He’s tough. But dog-gone it, that plant is certainly out to kill him!
Rustic Russ held on for a fast, thundering gallop down the drive.
There’s a lot of horse power under that saddle when a horse bolts and gallops.
Powerful enough to suck your favorite hat right off your head!
Amazingly, once they leave the property, Raz sails along with loose dogs, children running out to greet them, mailboxes, and the limited traffic our sleepy town produces.
And why wouldn’t he.
He’s got Rustic Russ reassuring him all along the way.
Until tomorrow – re-thinking hanging plants – God willing,
Woodswoman
