My horses amuse me.
If I'm out with them, Sky has taken to runnng up to me every time he's being bothered by a horse fly. He is learning to stand still too, because, as I keep trying so patiently to explain to him, how can I get a fly off his back if he's doing the Charleston?
This morning I watched in some surprise as Paca, my very selfish older horse, took the trouble three or four times in a row to drive the goats away from Strawberry's hay, and then he would go back to his own meal. He is a 26 year old cranky gelding and yet he still seems to feel a moral obligation to protect his little girlfriend.
Speaking of horses, I should probably head out as I have a lesson coming this morning.
(I also just had what I thought was a grand, if probably unrealistic, idea I need to e-mail
eattheolivesabout. Remind me, Marie.)