Married with Horses: Ponies on Ice
Eastern North Carolina isn’t made for snow, sleet or freezing rain. But that didn’t stop all three from coming down during a single day this past week.
Schools and stores closed, tree branches and power lines sagged, and any traffic that hadn’t slid into a ditch slowed to a crawl.
And forget making snowmen. The only thing this icy mix did well was turn the walk to the mailbox into a slippery, treacherous, hamstring-pulling, glute-busting--and potentially deadly--outing.
Even if you avoid injury, the minus-800-degree wind chill (my personal estimate) will get you. Unless the mailbox is stuffed with hundred dollar bills, it’s best to skip the trip.
The walk to the barn wasn’t any safer than the walk to the mailbox, but it couldn’t be skipped. All the horses were inside. And despite what horses may tell you, they can’t take care of themselves.
Which reminds me of some other things horses say that no one should believe:
- “I’m low maintenance.”
- “I’m affordable.”
- “I don’t need special care like other horses.”
- “I’m, like, totally bombproof.”
- “I’m immune to worms, fire ants, horse flies, wasps and holes in the ground.”
- “I’ll take really great care of that expensive blanket.”
- “Just give me the whole bale--I’ll pace myself.”
- “I don’t even need a fence--I’m that well trained!”
Fortunately, our horses didn’t have much to say on this cold afternoon. I suppose it wouldn’t have mattered because we couldn’t have heard them over the bitter, howling wind. Also, I think my ear drums were frozen.
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I was bundled in several heavy shirts, a thick sweater, a down coat and a thick knit cap with a scarf wrapped around my face, but I couldn’t keep warm. Even during the short walk to the barn I could feel my body temperature drop a few more degrees. If not for an invigorating fall on a patch of ice near the barn, I might have perished.
In some respects, conditions in the barn were better than those inside our house. Unlike us, the horses actually had free-flowing hot and cold water.
Despite running our home’s wood-burning stove, two space heaters, central heat in the spare bedroom and bath, and leaving a trickle of water running through our most-likely-to-freeze pipes, the pipes still froze. We had no shower or bath, one working toilet and one cold-water-only sink.
Combining the fear of bursting pipes with my worries about the cost of the wood, gas and electricity we were using gave me a new, previously unattained level of anxiety. Luckily, Kimberly had a plan to help me relax: spend more time outside in the mind-numbing cold.
“OK,” Kimberly started, “I’ll drop these blankets in the pasture, and you grab Madison.”
Kimberly sauntered off with the horse blankets and the camera bag. The sun had broken though the late afternoon clouds, and Kimberly thought it would be a good chance to finish taking some pictures for a client. I was just hoping the wind wouldn’t carry us--or any of the horses--away.
“Brrrr!” exclaimed Madison as I led her from the barn. “What are we doing outside?”
“Blanket pictures.”
“Oh, geez,” Madison responded. “Only if I get to run around--it’s too cold to stand.”
Kimberly quickly changed Madison’s blanket and handed me the camera. I handed it back. I needed a job with more body-warming movement.
“I’d better dress and guide the horses, lest I die of hypothermia,” I said.
Unfortunately, Madison didn’t need my help. Madison executed a perfectly paced lap in front of Kimberly and the camera and returned immediately to me for her wardrobe change. She obviously had no intention of spending one extra second outside.
“I have no intention of spending one extra second outside,” said Madison.
“You want a treat?” I asked, reaching into my pocket.
“No time. Could you hurry it up with that tail strap?”
“Er... sure.”
Vander needed even less help. He barely stopped moving long enough for me to get each blanket on him. At least jogging while securing his belly surcingles kept me warm.
We had a few blankets left to photograph when Justin started going crazy in his stall. Because we’d turned Ellie’s old stall into a large feed room, Justin and Mandy were roommates during the bad weather. It was obvious Mandy had had her fill of Justin.
“Excuse me! I’ve had my fill of Justin,” I heard Mandy holler into the wind.
“Maybe we should turn Justin out while we finish these shots,” said Kimberly.
“I’ve had my fill of Justin,” Mandy repeated as I entered the stall and clipped the lead line to Justin’s halter.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I got it the first time.”
“Oh,” Mandy said. “I wasn’t sure if you heard me over the wind.”
“MOM’S HAD HER FILL OF ME!” Justin shouted in my ear. I nearly fell down, barely catching myself on the open stall door.
“See what I mean?” Mandy added with a smirk.
