Awaken

Tuesday September 15 2015

Of course it’s 1:40 AM.

Whinny, whinny, in my dream. Whinny, whinny, WHINNY, this is not a dream.

I sit bolt upright in the dark, my ear straining to hear through the window over my pounding heart. It’s cool and windy, spattering raindrops - and a horse is whinnying. That’s not right. And it’s Mufasa whinnying - Mufasa hardly ever whinnies, unless his herd mates across the fence, and/or Dudley, next door, are gone.

I jump out of bed, and as I grab a headlamp I glance at the clock. Of course it’s 1:40 AM, middle of the moonless, cloudy night, when it will be hard to find any horses if they are missing. I think to put on some warm clothes, because this might take a while. please god please god, my heart pounds, let nothing have happened.

Whinny, whinny, I hear Mufasa’s whinny moving around his pen. I step outside in the wind and raindrops, and indeed, Mufasa is galloping around upset. As I get closer with my headlamp, sure enough, I only see his glowing eyeballs. He’s running his north fence back and forth. His herd, the other 8 eyeballs, are nowhere to be seen. Dudley’s eyeballs are nowhere to be seen either, but hopefully he’s across the creek in the trees, by his herd across the back fence.

I duck under the hot fence, which is still standing, and head for where Mufasa’s herd should be. I see nothing but raindrops flying sideways in my headlamp beam. Mufasa keeps insisting the horses are missing in that direction. As I keep walking toward the far end of the pasture - there they are, 8 eyeballs. Have they escaped their pen? Mufasa thinks so; he’s still hollering behind me.

The 8 eyeballs are moving around. Have they escaped, are they outside? I’m talking to them as I’m walking, so they know it’s me. They nicker at me, and start coming my way. Mufasa suddenly stops whinnying, because he can see his herd again.

No, they hadn’t gotten out. They’d just gone to the other end of the pasture to get out of the wind. Just over a slight hill and in the darkness, Mufasa couldn’t see them. Sure, they heard their pal’s rather panicked whinnies, but horses never care about the one left behind, unless it’s them!

I walked back to check on Dudley and the rest of our horses, since I was out there anyway. Yes, Dudley was hanging out in the trees across the creek (also ignoring Mufasa), next to his own herd in the corrals.

As I headed back inside, back to bed. Mufasa’s herd had left him and ignored him again; he was back to whinnying; but now I know nobody’s escaped.

It’s always good when these night escapades end well, though they can disturb a nice sleep.

Of course it’s 2:02 AM.

Winter Walkabout

Sunday December 9 2012

Through my open window, the soft sound of swishing snowflakes woke me in the night - our first real Owyhee snowfall of the winter! Half asleep, half giddy, I could not wait for daylight to come, to step out into a white winter blanket. The snort of a horse drifted on the still night. Ahh - what better sounds than snow falling at night and the comforting snort of the neighbor's horses?

A louder snort - WAIT - WHAT THE !?!? That's RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!!! Not right!!! 

And where there was one, there would be more - horses escaped from their paddock!

Amazing how quickly one can wake when there's Horse Trouble in the dark. I sprang out of bed, threw on clothes and coat, grabbed hat and gloves, and carefully stepped outside so as not to startle anyone. A black horse snorted again at me, and walked by me. I thought it was Smoky. There were indeed other forms out there, dark ones and and gray ones floating ghost-like above the white ground blanket - they were not supposed to be out here - how/where/when did they escape?? I could see a lot of dark prints in the snow - they'd been out here a while.

I hoofed it quickly to the barn and grabbed a bucket of oats. I made a quick loop by the green gate (closed, no sign of hoof prints) and around back to the white (non) electric fence over the road - no sign of hoof prints. I could not possibly see how the horses got out. 

I came back around to where the loose horses were scattered - Finneas made a beeline toward me and the feed tub in my hands - and I lured them all into Judy's (empty) pasture. Seven horses - half the herd! - and not the usual suspects (Jose and Mac). In fact, in this half-herd, I was looking at baby Luna and no mama Perry! No sign or sound of the other half of the herd. 

With opening and closing other gates and calling the strays, I led them into the small back pen, and reunited them with the rest of the herd, who was waiting along a fence in the big back pen. Then the whinnying started, the 'Hey there you are!' 'Where did you guys go?' and 'Mama! Oh now I realize I missed you! I'm so hungry!' calls.

Later in the morning, the neighbor emailed to say that the escaped horses had been over there - helped themselves to the hay there. Another neighbor later said she'd driven in before dawn and saw hoof prints on the road, and thought somebody was out riding awful early.

I spent half the day checking the fences (none down) and gates (none left open), looking for tracks, (couldn't tell where the snow tracks came from - they must have escaped before the snow started?) trying to figure out how/why only half the herd escaped, each scenario less likely than the next. A horse opened a gate with his teeth and closed it behind him and 6 other horses? 7 horses jumped a fence? 7 horses stepped under or stepped over a (not hot) electric fence, without leaving hoof prints, without a one getting tangled, including Rhett who wouldn't get near a white tape fence if there was a mountain of grain on the other side of it? One of us humans sleep-walked and let half the herd out? Magic?

The horses spent the rest of the day passed out in a sand pile and sleeping on their feet. 

Their Big Night Out  was exhausting.