As most of you know, I have 4 dogs and a spare. They are all borderline crazy. I can dress them up, but I can’t take them out. They have a large yard to play in, and keeping them contained so they can’t take their brand of crazy out into the neighbourhood is a full time job. Behind the yard is a large field…5 acres, 20 acres, I don’t know, but it’s large. This year, the guy who lives on the other side of the hill strung up an electric fence and put 3 horses in to graze for the summer.
I don’t know a lot about horses, but they are herd animals because they are prey. Safety in numbers and all that. I also know they tend to avoid noise, strange things and crazy assed dogs. Two of the horses stay out in the field, but every freaking time I let the dogs out, one of the horses runs across the field and stands right beside my fence while my dogs act as if the creature from the black lagoon just materialized.
Seriously. It’s a horse. You saw him yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Get over it.
The horse must be completely retarded, and I hope he’s been gelded because he doesn’t need to add anything to the gene pool. He calmly stands at the fence while my pack of hell hounds bark, slobber, snap, growl and attempt to jump over the fence so they can turn him into un-canned dog food. It’s ridiculous. Between the freaky neighbours on the hill who yell at each other day and night and this idiotic horse who insists on standing 3 feet away from a spectacularly horrible death, I can’t even hang a load of laundry outside in peace. Most days I feel like jabbing an ice pick in each of my ears just so I won’t have to hear the racket.
On another note, I bought a stationary bike and I plan to ride it cross country to meet up with The Idiot on his way back from Canada. Maybe we can have lunch. Currently, he’s on vacation, so I might be able to get across the dry, dusty sage brush flats (otherwise known as Wyoming) while he’s resting up from his amazing journey to raise money for the flood victims in Minot, ND.