Another Horse Tail
SPRING ROUTINES
Now that the weather is teasing with promises of warmth and green grass, we figured it’s time to get out there and check fence lines. It always amazes me, how a pasture can be in fine shape in the fall, no horses are within the confines for months, yet there’s fence to fix come spring. Not a little bit of fence either, lots of fence to repair. The possibility of culprits is endless. Usually, deer are the culprits. Once in a while, joyriders going off the road or the berm of the big ditch behind our property, are to blame, or a tree falls on it. Often, there’s no logical explanation whatsoever. No matter who or what the culprit, it all must be checked over, before the horses go out.
I can’t wear any sort of rubber boots or duck boots, and wear a good pair of runners all winter. I know, I know, it gets really cold up here in the great white North, and snow is often deep, but I manage quite well. It’s amazing what layers of socks can do. Anyway, the girl child and I head out to check fences. She in her new, Princess Auto rubber boots. Me in my usual runners. I head off down the aisle that divides the front pastures in half, while the girl child begins to repair, at the beginning of said aisle.
As I walked along, planning my route as I went, I noticed that there was far more water here and there on the aisle than it had appeared to be, from far away. Just another case of good from far, but far from good. Still, I was committed, or possibly needed to be committed, sometimes the line is fine and just a titch wobbly on that point. Still, I wanted to get as much done as possible. I was half the way towards the end of the aisle, when I came upon a stretch of rather deep water. The problem was, the water on both sides of the aisle fence were also deep. Certainly way deeper than my runners, which, by the way, are not waterproof or water resistant. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Still, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Besides, I didn’t feel like going back. It was clearly a simple case of six of one, half a dozen of the other, at least to my way of thinking. The sliver of aisle below the electric fence wire seemed doable. The fence was off, no problem. I would simply balance along its length.
The best laid plans, often aren’t as brilliant, as they seem to be at first contemplation. In retrospect, I probably should’ve contemplated a tad longer.
Things started out well enough. I carefully edged along, choosing and placing each foot tentatively on the high spots. Everything was going ever so well, until it suddenly wasn’t. What I thought was high ground, suddenly gave way. Eesh, booter number one. In my haste to pull my foot out of icy, cold water, the other slipped in. Yeesh, booter number two. Runners or not, they’re still called booters. I swear it’s true.
At this point, I have feet soaked with very cold water, so I may as well carry on. For a little bit, I continued to pick my way along the high spots. Then I gave my head a shake, and laughed at myself. My feet were already soaked. It wasn’t as if they could become more so. Wet is wet, and balancing along a wire is tricky, too. I gave up on high ground, and simply walked. The squishing sound water makes in runners is rather amusing, and just walking far easier anyway.
Of course I had an audience. Horses to either side of the aisle, were doing their best impressions of Camargue ponies, splashing through water, and I’m pretty sure, I heard them laughing at me. I did get some fence fixed though, and found a halter as well, so it was all worth it.
Here are some photos of the Camargue pony impersonators.
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