I volunteer regularly at a Therapeutic Equestrian Center (link). During the program's winter break, I came over once a week, early in the morning, to feed the horses and let them outside. Since the winter session has started, I was asked if I could still come in early to feed and exercise them before lessons start. I said sure.
We have six horses, most in their 20s (the youngest is 14), one of which is a Belgian draft horse named Missy.
Here she is:
Missy is 15.2 hands (that's ~61") at the withers (shoulder blades) and 1400 lbs. In short, she's a big horse.
This morning, I arrived at the barn, was greeted by a cacophony of whinnies, flipped on the lights, and walked down the line, peeking into stalls to wish everyone a good morning. Missy's stall is the fourth one in. As I was peeking into the third stall, I noticed that Missy's stall looked strangely empty. I reiterate - she's a BIG horse - she's not easy to overlook. As I took a step closer, I caught a glimpse of chestnut colored hips just below the stall door. Missy's chestnut colored hips usually come up to my forehead, so I nearly had a heart attack when I saw poor, shrunken Missy, whose head didn't even reach up to my shoulder peeking up at me.
(generic picture, not the actual pony)
"HOLY - oh wait," I said. I suddenly remembered we were going to be testing a new horse. I looked across the arena to a bigger stall and sure enough, there was Missy staring woefully out at me, exiled from her herd. The new resident of her old stall is a Shetland Pony with the same coloring.
Okay, no biggie. There was a sign on the stall door with his name (Cooper) and instructions of how much to feed him. I got their grain and went back down the line, feeding all of them, then grabbed a wheelbarrow, filled it with hay and slipped into the stalls to give them their hay.
Here's the thing. I can give most of them their grain without opening their stall door, which was the case with little Cooper. However, I have to open the stalls to give them their hay. Now, my experience with these horses has perhaps made me a little lazy about the doors. The entire time I've been doing chores, I've never had to worry about a horse getting out while I was giving them hay. They like their food. Usually, I have to bat them away from trying to eat the hay right out of my arms. So when I opened Cooper's stall just wide enough for me to get in, I was NOT expecting what happened next.
I slipped in, took a couple steps and tossed down the hay. Cooper circled around out of my way, which did not surprise me since he doesn't know me yet. Then, like a little imp, he somehow managed to slip through that crack and bolted into the arena. I swore and ran out of his stall, opening the door wide behind me. There's a gate we keep closed while the horses are out of their stalls, but it's the gate I go through for the grain and hay, so I had it open. He darted through it. I swore even more. The gate to the pastures was closed, but if he went far enough through the barn, he'd find a huge door wide open that some people who work with other horses boarding here were using.
I was afraid if I ran after him, he'd keep running that way to get away from me. But I also couldn't NOT go. I circled to his far side as best I could and luckily he turned and bolted back into the lit arena rather than in the other, darker, direction. I closed the stupid gate while he cantered around the arena and tried to get to him. Eventually, he stopped in front of the horse closest to the troublesome gate and curiously touched noses. I grabbed my chance, calmly (but quickly) walking over to him, and grabbed him by the base of his mane, steering him back toward his stall while keeping him between myself and the other stalls. A few minutes later, a second person showed up, who would have been MUCH appreciated if she had arrived just a teensy bit sooner. *sigh*
***
Later, during the second of three lessons, I had some free time, so I put hay out in the pastures. The instructor asked me to fill the water troughs and to check the fence in Pasture 2, since that's where our little escape artist would be staying. I tromped out, hooked the hose up to the pump and stuck it into the first of two troughs to top it off.
I walked around the pasture, checking the fence. When I was directly opposite the water pump, evidently the trough had filled because I glanced over in time to see the water hose fly out of the trough. "Dang it," I said as I jogged over while it gushed water onto snow and ice. while I was wrestling the hose into another trough, I caught a glimpse into Pasture 3 and noticed something funny about the fence. As soon as I finished checking Pasture 2, marking a wobbly post with a rock, I climbed into Pasture 3 and ambled over to the weird spot of the fence. It was right by the water trough, which is why I saw it when I did.
The pastures are enclosed by wooden fences and strung with electric fencing that looks like white ribbons.
One of the ribbons had broken and I could clearly see one end trapped under ice. I heard the electric current rhythmically running through it, "zzt...zzt...zzt." Since that end was inside Pasture 3, near the water trough, I figured I'd move it out of the way so our Arabian and Warmblood horses can get to the water without worrying. "Okay," I said to myself, "I'm a musician. I know timing. I can do this."
Side Note: Pasture 3 shares a fence with the neighbor barn's pasture. The ribbon that was broken was on their side, so I didn't have access to the switch to turn off the electricity. Also, I'd been shocked by that fence before, so I knew what I was in for.
I tightened my leather gloves over my fingers and waited for the gap between electric currents. As soon as I had it, I grabbed the ribbon and yanked, freeing it from the ice. I dropped it before it sent another jolt through, then grabbed it again and tossed it on the other side of the fence. Meanwhile, a horse on that side of the fence came over to see what I was doing. I noticed she wouldn't come quite as close as she had in the past. Sure enough, there was the other end of the broken ribbon, a nearly invisible white snake in the snow, trailing all over the ground. "Well, that sucks, doesn't it?" I said to her.
I did the same maneuver, waiting a beat to grab the ribbon and yank it out of the snow. The plan was to string it under the fence, or at least closer to it. It was a lot longer than the end I had already moved, so I wasn't surprised to get shocked a couple times. I just said, "Ow," and kept yanking. I never saw it, but apparently the ribbon touched my knee...RIGHT where I had cut myself shaving the night before. It shocked the hell out of me. I let go of the ribbon and hollered in tongues.
I marched over to the troughs, turned off the water pump, and stomped to the barn next door, which I had never been in before. I found an open door and a couple guys mucking stalls. "Hey guys!" I said, causally leaning on their tractor. "I work next door. Just came from checking pastures. One of your electric fences is broken and y'all need to FIX it." It took a bit of back-and-forth to nail down which pasture since I don't know how they number theirs, but once I said there was a horse wearing a red blanket, they knew which one I was talking about. "That's the one we keep the mares in," one said to the other.
Oh-ho! Their electric fence was broken there, and some of the clips holding ours were broken. No wonder. The Arabian and Warmblood are energetic geldings. Just because they've been neutered doesn't mean they don't get worked up over the ladies! The fence has been taking a beating.
***
After chasing Cooper and getting shocked by the fence, I was glad to get home. Unfortunately, when I pulled into my driveway that evening, I landed in another mess. In order to maneuver four cars on one driveway, Three of us park on the grass. My spot has some deep ruts that I tried to avoid, but didn't pull far enough between them. When I braked, my car slid sideways into the ruts. I'd managed to get out before, so I just muttered irritably and went inside. The next morning, as I was hurrying to get to hand bell practice at the church, I found myself hopelessly stuck in those ruts. I stopped trying to rock the car out when I noticed I had engulfed my neighbor's car in a tidal wave of mud. Oops. I ended up having my roommate drop me off and calling the tow truck after church...to tow me three measly feet in my own driveway. I felt like a dolt.
Luckily, my neighbor thought it was hilarious and used the opportunity to wash both of their cars before it got too cold again, and let me use his hose to wash mine.
Monday morning, I was actually thankful to be unemployed because I needed a weekend for my weekend.