Married with Horses: Spitting Image, Part 2
Continued from Part 1: All night Kimberly, Pepper and I tossed and turned on the air mattress in the tack room. We were awakened constantly by Macy and Sacha who came in to eat from their feeder, but were confused by the pile of sleeping animals. Macy walked on us, sniffing and purring while Sascha simply meowed, perching in a glassless opening among the wood-framed grid of small window panes in the tack room door. Sacha’s hourly perching and meowing made her a “small pain,” to say the least.
Though we checked on Mandy throughout the night, no foal arrived. Kimberly, Pepper and I were exhausted when the sun rose. When we opened the tack room door, Pepper simple threw herself down in the grass by the barn and went to sleep.
Kimberly and I brought the other horses in and put Mandy back out. It was recommended that we allow Mandy the opportunity to walk around as much as possible before the foaling, and we trusted the statistics that told us nearly all mares foal at night.
Kimberly took Pepper inside to put her in the new dog bed we bought for her, and I stepped into the riding ring with some flakes of hay for Mandy. Before I even had a chance to put them down, she walked over and grabbed a big mouthful.
“Hey!”
“Yes, thank you,” Mandy responded between chews. “I am totally starving. Is there more hay?”
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“Probably,” I answered. “Is there a baby?”
“Tonight,” she added before taking another huge mouthful of hay. “Oh, heavens! Mmmmm. Is this hay ever good!”
“Tonight? What happened last night?”
“I wanted a closer look at those new doors,” she said casually.
“You faked your labor to see the doors?” I asked, exasperated.
“Have you looked at those doors?” Mandy responded with wide-open eyes and raised brows. “They’re as pretty on the inside as out! If you’d seen some of the schlocky barn doors I’ve had to endure. Oh! Mmmm.” Her eyes closed as she chewed another mouthful of hay. “Can I get some more of this stuff?”
She snatched up another giant mouthful. With nearly half a flake in each bite, the hay I brought out was about gone.
“Sure,” I said, “but what did you think of the rest of the stall?”
“Hmmph,” Mandy shrugged. “It’ll do.”
“Glad you like it, your highness. I’ll be right back with that hay.”
“Thank you,” Mandy said with a full mouth. “And this time I’ll take it over there in the shade, if you don’t mind.”
Back in the house, Pepper had fallen asleep on the floor with only her head on her dog bed. Jack was curled up in the center of the dog bed, fast asleep. Knowing that we’d be on the tack room floor again that night, Kimberly and I followed Pepper and Jack’s lead and crawled into our own bed.
It must be a cat thing. Jack woke me up, though at least he allowed me a few hours of sleep. Kimberly was still asleep beside me.
“Time to get up!” Jack whispered. “There’s a lot to do.”
“Like what?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Like pet the cat.”
I rubbed Jack behind his ears and scratched between his shoulders. He maneuvered his head around so I could reach all the itchy spots. It was a wonder his purring didn’t wake Kimberly. I was still petting Jack when we both fell asleep.
I actually felt pretty rested when we awoke a few hours later. Jack stayed in bed while Kimberly, Pepper and I went out to check on Mandy, turn the other horses out and muck the stalls. Pepper pitched in with the cleaning, eating a few pieces of poop from the barn aisle. Note to self: Stop letting the dog lick my face.
The day was beginning to cool off a bit from the near-hundred-degree high temperature. A light breeze moved in from beyond the surrounding tobacco fields and the sinking sun gave the landscape a soft golden glow. I may never get used to the heat of eastern North Carolina, but I know without it there would be no lush green pine and oak groves, thriving gardens or flourishing pastures.
I don’t know if the human eye simply developed a love for the color green during our millennia on this earth, or if people and chlorophyll were a match from the beginning. I do know that I feel supremely content sitting in the shade of our woods, looking at our garden and pastures.
I’ve always thought of myself as a traveler with more exotic places in my future. Perhaps I’m just getting older. Perhaps I’m just happy. Perhaps I’m also a little worried that I may never want to leave this place.
