01.04.2016 Live Like the Gate Was Left Open

01.04.2016   “Live Like the Gate Was Left Open”

"Live like the gate was left open," sounds like not having a care in the world, enjoying boundless energy and limitless freedom.  Getting out of the gate can surely be exciting.  However, watching liberated critters is another story, when there is risk of a stampede, like during this afternoon’s snow.

Is that a rose bush or a horse's butt?

Glancing out toward the pasture through flurries to see how many new inches had fallen, I saw our two white horses in the distance standing at the fence.  Then on the outside of the fence, it looked like only a couple of the bushes lining the driveway were completely covered with snow.  Something looked different about those bushes to me, and I was getting a funny feeling.

It was as cold as it looks out there

Were the bushes really that high or that round?  From a distance, looking through the flakes, what I thought were snow-covered rose bushes, seemed to resemble a white horse’s back and butt.  

Denial is a funny thing.  The mind says, “that sure looks like it could be a horse outside of the fence,” but then my mind answers itself, ...“no, there’s no way for them to get out.  The gates are kept latched.  Or if I do find a gate left unlatched, everyone in earshot is reminded to not only latch, but also check, to keep horses safe.” That would be my hope and my wish, anyway.

Call it reality sinking in, a moment of clarity, or wanting to be safer than sorry, I jumped into action, into my snow boots, hat, jacket, and gloves as I grabbed my favorite turquoise rope halter running out into the storm. 

Grandma getting some exercise and fresh air

Getting closer, I saw what I had tried to talk myself out of, which was the two youngest, horse and pony, on the wrong side of the fence. They were living like someone left the gate open, alright.  And home alone, having come to my senses, I was praying they would both go willingly back inside the gate, before dusk or nightfall.

The first one was easy enough to convince, as our quiet paint, Petey Brown, gave his cooperation.  He made no objection when I approached, slipped on the halter, and together, we walked back to the barn.  Emily, the younger tiny pony, on the other hand, said “no way.” And she took flight.

Emily in full flight

Emily knows a good opportunity when she sees one.  She took off running as soon as Petey Brown was safely back inside the gate, as I returned to capture her next.  Instead of willingly coming with me, this little pony enjoyed frolicking, darting, dashing, and bucking around like crazy.  She veered in and out around the orchard, as she ran up and down the long driveway (fortunately with nothing around that could get her into trouble).  She made wide rowdy circles, buzzing right past me, just barely out of my reach.  The fun didn’t last quite until dark, because I took advantage of Emily's weakness for grain. She also doesn’t like separation from the three big horse friends who are her stable mates.  Finally, with no need for halter or rope either one, Emily, once good and ready, followed me friskily back to the barn, right behind her bucket of oats.

The thrill of sudden freedom is sweet. When you get the chance, kick up your heels, let yourself go.  Live like the gate really was left open, but please, don’t let the horses get out behind you.