Farm Fresh Blog

We took the boys to the north ranch this weekend - in the rain.

Palo Pinto Painted Pony in the rain

 One of us was a happy camper.

One of us was not . . .

 "Can we go home now?"

Poor Musket was on his first camping trip and he was not happy. I woke up the first morning to find him standing beside the gate, begging me to come get him. 

He was covered in biting black flies, soaking wet, and had cactus thorns in his nose.  He was pitiful. I woke up Other Half, and we pulled the cactus out of his nose, put on some fly spray, and put oats in his belly.

 His day was looking up.

 They discovered the pecan trees gave nice shelter, and on Day 3 the sun came out.

On that day, I woke up early and saddled Joe. Other Half was still asleep, so I took a walkie talkie and tossed another one in bed with him. Then I climbed on Joe and off we went down the trail.

He was pretty scared at first. The forest has eyes out there and Joe knew it. He stalled out a few times, certain he would be cougar bait if he kept going. I kept humming a little tune and eventually he would sigh and head a little further through the woods. On the way back I noted that in the places were he stalled out there were hog and deer tracks in the road that had not been there before. Joe was being watched.

Our return trip was much faster but uneventful. I was elated. We DID it!

Other Half was less than enthusiastic about our trip.  Apparently I had forgotten to turn on my walkie talkie.  (Ma bad!) I had ridden off to parts unknown on an unfamiliar horse without a gun and without turning on my radio.  (not my finest hour)

Nevertheless, I was still elated. I had trusted Joe, and he had trusted me. (or got tired of my singing and just gave up)  So for a little while, I had forgotten all the ugliness and violence in this world. I was just a little girl on a pony.  And it felt good.

 Painted Pony & Prickly Pears