Grassy Munchies all!
Life in the field with my pals has settled down recently to a nice routine of food, food and more food.
We have a constant supply of hay and Kat, my human, visits every day with a bucket full of delicious mushed up grassy munchies. I can’t tell you how amazing it is; I can quite lose myself.
Our training sessions seem to be less, which Kat says is because there’s more dark. Whatever. It works for me.
There is just one thing that isn’t right and for the hairy feathers of me I cannot understand it.
As a horse we feel safest with our own kind. It’s a safety in numbers thing. Our highly tuned instinct to detect horse eating beasts is far stronger combined than individually. It also means we can snooze if someone else is on watch. Bonus.
So why in the blazing green grasses does Kat insist on taking me on a training session without any of my pals. Just her? How can I rely on her detecting a horse devouring threat from mere instinct when she’s not one of us?
I don’t mean to be rude, but do humans actually have any instinct?
Kat says the females often do, but the males are pretty devoid. And I mustn’t mention this to John, her male human.
Needless to say I have raised the question of ‘just the two of us’ over and over.
I’ve suggested we just don’t go at all. Nope. Or maybe ask one of my pals if they want to come too? Nope. I continually recommend the quicker route home. Nope. The fact I could literally be saving our lives here just doesn’t seem to be getting through.
Between you and me I did discover quite a nifty trick of taking the quicker route myself.
I just locked my neck, set my jaw and hey presto I was in control! Unfortunately, Kat responded by the aptly named ‘circle dance’. She just turned me round and round until I was so dizzy I didn’t realise I was back on her longer route until it was too late.
Then, one day I was quietly moving into the neck lock position when this long stick appeared from nowhere. I didn’t fancy moving towards that stick at all, I can tell you.
I’ve heard stories from my pals about these sticks, or whips as they are sometimes called. I know if a human hits you with them they will hurt. I can’t see Kat doing that, but the fact it was there was enough to ruffle even my extremely hairy feathers.
The stick has been there ever since so I guess that nifty trick has had it’s day.
So it seems these ‘just the two of us’ training sessions are here to stay.
Echo, who left us in the summer to make her journey to the ever green fields and horse friends over the bridge, told me not to worry. She said her and Kat used to go for miles, always just the two of them and that eventually she began to trust Kat’s instincts, almost as she would one of her pals.
I find that hard to believe, but Echo was one wise old lady who I respected and trusted, even if she did only have one eye. So I guess I need to trust her on this one.
And, I suppose I could at least try and trust Kat. After all, her instincts were bang on with the soggy delicious grassy munchies she brings me every day.
Still, if she’s asking me to trust her instincts and follow her as my leader, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to put this to the test now and then. You know, just in case I did find any more nifty tricks up my feathers. Perfectly reasonable if you ask me.
Until next time – GMFN