I love this photo. I’m not even sure why really. Maybe it’s because I know how much alike these two horses are. Our wild mustang baby Firestorm on the left and our rescued American Saddlebred Mouse on the right. I posted the photo just because I liked it. And I like them. Birds of a feather. Two very bright and very curious horses. One morning Saffron – Stormy’s mom – and I were walking out of the barn breezeway to breakfast. I had called both of them but realized I wasn’t hearing eight hooves on the pea gravel. I glanced back and all I could see of Stormy was a bit of her butt. She had stepped up into the tack room. All four feet! I wish I had thought to grab the iPhone but I reacted first (react first and think later… see I’m actually becoming one of them). “Stormy get outta there!” I snapped. And by the time I thought about taking a picture she was dutifully backing out of the doorway. We were having some grading and pea gravel work done around the barn and the guys had left a few big scary tools on the floor of the tack room. Like a chain saw. And one of those big concrete cutters. Scary to most, but not to Stormy. Oh, wow! Something new. What the heck is that? The small size of the tack room alone would be enough to cause most horses to vanish. But not Stormy. Nor Mouse if she had been around.
In the original post I called them the “children” of the herd. But that’s only true in spirit. Stormy is the youngest, 16 months at the time, but Stormy’s mother Saffron is actually the next youngest, and then Mouse at seven. But Mouse still acts like she’s Stormy’s age. Anyway, without realizing it, a friend named Jennifer posted a comment that caused me to shove the next morning’s work aside and write this blog post. Jennifer said, “That’s funny, eating hay with all that luscious looking green grass!” She must’ve been wondering why in the world would they do that? Read More→