Thank You for the Eggs.

I came in from the barn yesterday with a Thanksgiving hangover. I confess I’m a glutton. I totally over-indulged in the hairy abundance of the day.

We have company here for the holiday. They are in our extended herd. We use that term pretty freely around here. If you have fur, or have ever liked anybody with fur, you are as good as kin to us.

        Meet our visitors: Lola, Lyra, and Misty came for a sleep over while their humans travel. Misty is a statuesque beauty, a Percheron mare that picked Becky at Ruby Ranch Horse Rescue a few years back. Misty is a big-boned girl with a very soft eye. All the geldings are just transfixed by her.

Lyra (middle) is a bay mare who is sensible, kind, and a chronic Good Girl, if you know what I mean. Then there’s Lola. Well, Lola is the one smiling in this photo. Do her ears give her away? Lola is a bit forward and very opinionated, and she has a bray like a high-pitched squeak toy. In other words, Lola is totally irresistible. We are all besotted with her, and she expects no less.

“I thought of that old joke, y’know, the, this… this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doc, uh, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.” And, uh, the doctor says, “Well, why don’t you turn him in?” The guy says, “I would, but I need the eggs.” Well, I guess that’s pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y’know, they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and… but, uh, I guess we keep goin’ through it because, uh, most of us… need the eggs.” (Woody Allen, Marshal Brickman, from Annie Hall.)

Did he just describe my kinship with animals? Do you need the eggs as much as I do? The weather was warm here this Thanksgiving and there was an embarrassment of riches in my barn. I had a great conversation/ride on Namaste, who is stronger every day and gave me pointers on the use of my feet. I loitered in the Pen for Wayward Ponies; both of the big pony-men are much quicker to catch me now. After that I lingered, sharing breath with the Grandfather Horse. Then, Edgar Rice Burro needed a bit of extra time so I could thank him slower. Not to mention my astoundingly good and breathtakingly beautiful mares, I have so much to be grateful for, and that’s just in the barn!

And finally, when it could not get any sweeter, true to the holiday, everyone ate a big lunch and then took a nap. Happy Thanksgiving indeed!

I am almost 3 years and 350 posts old here at the blog. It was an effort in the beginning, but I had no idea how much I would get back. There are so many touching comments, articulate and filled with humor and love, whether you relate to being an Old Gray Mare, or you are nursing a Creaky Old Horse. I am so proud to be part of this family of horse people, who are tough and strong, yet soft-in-the-heart for the furry ones. We come from a long line of horses and humans, from deep in history to the youngsters in pink helmets just starting now, we are the lucky ones. The first thing to understand about horse-people is that the name says it all: Horses come first.

“You can say anything you want about me. But I’m going to have to ask you not to talk about my horse that way.” (John Fusco, from Hidalgo.)

Thank you for having me in with your extended fur family. You are a far-flung and eccentric bunch to be sure, my readers and clients, and I am so very grateful.

Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.