Horse Sense

I had the occasion to go over to our barn the other day. It is now used as storage for some of Gerry's junk. It was a cold day and as I walked in my thoughts went back to years ago when we had horses in there. As I looked straight ahead, there was the stall that Whirley had. He was the quarter horse colt that cornered me one day since he did not like anyone around him when he was eating his grain. Next was Molly's stall. She was a beautiful, kind Appaloosa that I had to give penicillin shots to, to prevent infection from a bite she received the day we got her. Gerry held her head and I injected her, not willingly! And there was Queenie's stall. She was a big old Belgian that we tired to breed but whose biological clock had run out. As my mind drifted back, I saw the vapor from the horse's breath on those cold winter days, the cobwebs hanging from the windows, the flecks of hay and straw dust as they danced in the sunbeams and I heard the snorts and whinnies from the herd as they awaited their grain and hay. And the cats, they were in my mind's eye too. Their tails were held high as they meowed to be fed. And there was Gerry with his coveralls on, forking the manure into the wheelbarrow and wheeling it outside the open barn doors to the pile over and over....the sweet smell of manure filling my nostrils. We sold the horses a few years ago and their places were taken by old doors, windows, antique hand pumps and almost anything else you could mention...but they are "boring" things. Not like the horses and the sights, sounds and smells of that day.