Horse Pictures |Equine Action

For those of you who know Donna Lee Cole, I trust you will enjoy this article as much as I. For those of you who do not know Donna Lee, it is your loss as she has such a sense of humour and as President of Horse Trials New Brunswick is very giving of her time to the horse community. Thank you Donna Lee for sharing a moment of laughter with us all.

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So yesterday, I decided I hadn't hitched Archer (my 3 1/2 yr old Clyde/Paint) in awhile. So off I toddle down to the barn, wipe the worst of the dust and mold off the harness (don't ya just love this damp weather) and get him all harnessed and hitched, and it's off on the roads we go.....

Now, I don't know what it's like in your neck of the woods, but in this neck of the woods the local non-farming community gets a might bit offended when us horse people leave offerings of fresh Road Apples on the road. So, being the dutiful and responsible horse owner that I am, I ask for a halt when the tail gets lifted to that particular angle and Archer feels the need to make his mark on the world. I then jump out to "disperse" the offerings with a swift sideways glance of a winter booted foot. Quite a graceful dance to observe actually.

So after the third offering in 30 minutes, I halt the cart, jump out and wonder if there is some way that I can plug that frigging hole until we get home. Or at least away from the cranky non-horse neighbors. So, here I am doing the graceful "Kick Poop" dance when I notice that some Road Apples have wandered off on their own and are just out of Poop Kicking reach. Hummm.... well, I could back him up and then kick the offending Apples off into the ditch, or, I could instill the fear of God with a good firm "WHOA" and the ever trusting beast of burden will dutifully comply with his masters wishes! Being the incredibly intelligent person that I am, I opt for option number two.

"WHOA!" I command the simple beast, gently releasing the reins as I step away the get those errant little orphan Apples. As I turn my back I hear the clip clop of unshod hooves. "WHOA!!!" I command again, hoping to instill the fear of The Mommy (which everyone knows is much worser than the common garden variety Fear of God). Hummm, guess Archer must of missed that class, cause he cocks an ear back at me and picks up a lovely trot. Holy Frig! By this time I have started to jog the 5 steps back to the cart. Well, Archer hears my fine feminine figure pounding the pavement and he proceeds to pick up a ground covering road trot. Now, for those of you who knew me before I became Too Fat to Fly, I played football and ran on a regular basis. Out comes the sprinter in me! Caught up to the cart, stretched out the arm, almost there, reins are just a few more inches... Well, it is at this time that The Fear of The Mommy clicks into the Draft side of Archers little brain. He's a Cutie but a little... ummmm.... slow on the draw, you might say. You can see his ears twitching back and forth trying to figure out of he should slow down or run for his life. He chose life! Off he canters like a bat outta h-e-double eck, and I slowly come to a grinding gasping halt as I watch him canter away and around the corner.

As I stand there sucking air like a race horse, this little kid comes running up in a T shirt (it was freezing outside) and says "I saw what happened. I'll get my Grampy and we'll go find your horse." Well, I stood there like an idiot. Witnesses!!!! Now I'm gonna have to tell The Jeffy about this bonehead move. The news will be all over the Flats by the time I get back home! God! Why did we move to this little forsaken community??? "No.", "That's ok," I heave in between gasps. "He won't go far." Please, please, please God let this be the truth! Off I stagger on wobbly legs, hurrying around the corner, picking up tossed items that had once been in the storage bin under the cart seat. See some cart tracks heading up over a non-horsey neighbors lawn. And I hear this little snort coming from some groomed pine trees. Please, please, please be in the trees and not wedged between the parked car and the trees!

"Oh thank God, there you are!" I heaved when he came into sight. There, he stood, just as calm as could be, eating grass. Not a care in the world! "Whatcha doing over there Mom? How come you're not in the drivers seat???" I wobble over on shaky legs and check him over. Everything's in one piece, no blood, no guts, nothing broken on the cart. Climb in and weave our way back out of the pine trees, stopping every once in a while to pick up some more storage items that got tossed out in the mayhem.

Headed back home, trying to regain some semblance of my dignity and look like I know what I was doing sitting up in the Drivers Seat, just in case any other neighbors happened to have seen the production... all the while proceeding to ignore the two more deposits of Road Apples that Archer offered to the neighbors on the way home.

Morale: Leave Road Apple offerings where they lie.... The aroma therapy is much healthier for the neighbors than the subsequent exercise program is for the driver.....