The Manure Monster

Ransom minded his own business as we trekked down from the North barn, until we got to where the manure truck was usually parked. Right now it was either fertilizing the back pasture or in the repair shop.

Never-mind that we walked past this every day; clearly a new monster had moved into the small left-over manure pile. Ransom pushed his shoulder into my space to skirt away from it, eyes wide and radar ears on high alert.

I sighed. With children I’d call this a teachable moment. I wasn’t about to waste this one. I sent him onto a small circle to traverse a course through the smelly stuff and up over the small ledge of the hill. Ransom snorted and stepped gingerly into the decomposing footing.

How many circles does it take to conquer the manure monster? In this case, about twenty. Around and around he went. Stop, spook, leap. Stop, spook, leap. Hit the end of the leadrope. Balk. Whip swish. Scramble. Stop, look, think. Sniff. Oh. Step up nonchalantly. Repeat on other side.

I patted him on the neck and walked the few remaining steps into the main barn. Such a baby.

Ransom's RV

 

First came the horse, then the truck. Now for the trailer. I was two for three and ready to finish the set. Problem was, for the last month, Craigslist and other sites had been dry of what I was looking for - missing features or located  hours away. Until Sunday evening. That’s when I found the simple, older, two-horse straight load I sought.

I drove forty minutes to see it Monday afternoon, nervous and excited at the same time. It needed a few small repairs – projects with Grandpa – but was in decent shape for its age, even showing a bit of shine under the grime. Momma chatted up the nice lady selling it while I kicked tires. When I made an offer, the woman accepted. In fact, when we sat down to do paperwork, she said, “Why don’t we do $---- instead?” knocking off a hundred dollars. Who does that? I felt favored.

I trotted over to the store to pick up the right size hitch, and was soon on the road with a trailer in tow. The handling on my truck felt unfamiliar with this new heavy caboose. The increased possibility for risk to myself, my vehicles, and eventually my beloved horse, weighed on me. The opinions of others during the last few months had poked holes in my confidence. I didn’t want to be the ignorant girl who got into trouble because of poor decisions or uneducated choices. As much as I had read and researched and practiced, I felt like I was leaping out of my comfort zone.

But we made it home safely, and the trailer has been resting peacefully in the barnyard while I recover and prepare for the next bout. Ransom hasn’t yet travelled on his new wheels – safety repairs first – but come spring the horizon broadens. And the adventures begin…

Appaloosas in Miniature Part 2: The Breyer Years

In my teen years, my Grand Champion herd was joined by their more expensive counterparts, Breyers. Whatever hard earned money didn't go into my horse savings account I saved up for a new model. Although I had an affinity for paint horses, the appaloosas still had a strong showing.


Spangler the “Stablemate” was small but significant – a leopard appaloosa so named for his resemblance to the imaginary horse of my childhood.



One of my other spotted treasures was the gray fighting appaloosa stallion, a relic from the 1960's. I plucked him from obscurity at a street corner yard sale, just a few weeks before Christmas. Though he wasn't in perfect shape, he was worth a lot more than the $20 I paid for him.

 At $30+ for a traditional sized model, there were plenty of Breyers that went on my dream list but never make it to my shelf. One of them was Apropos, second in the exclusive Connoisseur raffle available only to subscribers of Breyer’s magazine, “Just About Horses.” I thought he was the most beautiful model horse I had ever seen, but he was way out of my meager budget.

Apropos never did join my collection, but I got a life size version instead. His name is Ransom. And that was apropos!

Rushing vs. Ransom

I was supposed to be at work. Instead, I sat on the mounting block, eating lunch and watching Ransom wander around the round pen.

Until 8 AM this morning, the plan was to take the mini horses on their monthly trip to visit the elementary school. Instead, the threat of rain led to a flurry of phone calls to volunteers to notify them that we were cancelling the trip. My heart sank every time a call went through to voicemail. What if they didn’t get the message in time? I felt pressured by the time crunch.

Today was the end of a whole week of feeling rushed -- perhaps more than the circumstances warranted -- but rushed all the same. Places to be, details to do, all eating up time so quickly I couldn’t catch up.

Ransom angled his head to slide it between the panels of the fence and stretch his nose towards me. Towards my lunch actually. My mind stopped rushing to all the things I needed to get done at work before the end of the day. Instead I thought, how do animals manage to be so cute when begging for food? I had no apple core to give him, so I offered up a frito corn chip. He lipped up the salty morsel and came back for more, ears pricked in anticipation.

Deep breath. I needed to be back at work in half an hour. But in this moment, with Ransom, I could just be.