November 13, 2018 by phicks2012
I have two horses, both grandson’s of my all-time favorite mare (Music), who years ago galloped across the Rainbow Bridge to strut her stuff in Valhalla and is still very much missed.
I now wish I hadn’t gelded Thor, who turned out to be a really nice-looking fellow, but that’s water long under the bridge. No undoing THAT, right?
In any case though, I couldn’t geld his less impressive brother because K.C. only ever dropped one testicle, and the vet kept waiting for the other one to drop. It never did, so he’s what’s known as Mon-orchid. He isn’t fertile, but he’s still technically a stud. Decidedly un-studly looking, but a stallion nevertheless.
He’s a very low-key, laid-back sort of stallion, and always has been, but from time to time he can still choose to remind me that the hormones are still flowing. A while back a tree fell across our fence line following some heavy rains and winds, and he got out of the pasture and went “visiting”, winding up in a small, bare paddock with a desperately skinny mare on a neighbor’s property. I guess the mare was a “neigh-bor” too, but I digress. Suffice it to say that we spent quite a while searching for him before the neighbors finally called animal control to tell them he was there, and they called me, and at that point (with considerable relief but with more than a little irritation) we went to get his wandering ass.
It wasn’t that simple, of course, the gate to the neighbor’s paddock (which at the time had not a trace of anything green growing in it) was tiny and blocked with yard equipment, and K.C. didn’t really want to leave his new (and in heat) sweetheart either. Furthermore, the wife was apparently terrified of horses, so she was no help at all, and when asked to hold the lead rope acted as though I’d tried to hand her a live rattlesnake.
We finally got him out, but then we had to lead him home for over a mile along a narrow twisty road and then a highway with cars and trucks speeding by (and even sometimes honking their horns). People are incredible, and some are just incredibly thoughtless or stupid, but what ELSE is new? They certainly didn’t help matters any when he was already prancing and pulling, and wanting to head back to his new “friend”, and by the time Jason got him home he (Jason, not K.C. who has no real vocabulary) was exhausted and cursing a blue streak.
We repaired the fence where he’d gotten out, and he thereafter stayed put until late September when Jason went down to feed both of the boys and (once again) found only one in residence.
I was personally getting over a pulled muscle, so I had no business at all being jerked around by an animal out-weighing me by at least 800 pounds, and Jason wasn’t much happier, but we drove over to the same place to see if K.C. had possibly returned to the first “scene of the crime” — and yep, there he was in the same paddock with the same mare. At first I didn’t see them because the weeds were so high, but then they poked their heads over the gate under the shed, and I had an AHA moment.
The mare wasn’t as skinny as before, but she was in heat again — HUGE surprise — and I knew K.C. was going to be a handful again as a result. However, the neighbors were not at home, and animal control advised me not to go into their paddock without their permission — because people could be strange and I could potentially be charged with trespassing.
They advised me to call the Probate Court, who transferred me to the Magistrate’s Court, where some total idiot started talking about police escorts and providing proof that I actually owned the horse. Needless to say, I hung up in exasperation, and then (having left my contact information with the wife the first time around) went home just KNOWING that I was going to get a call from them at the worst possible moment insisting I go over there (in the dead of night in the rain or something) to get my straying equine.
They never called either me or animal control, so they may or may not have realized he was there at all, and we still haven’t figured out how he got into that paddock, or out of it either for that matter. However, the next day he was home again.
We’d confined Thor to the upper, newly bush-hogged pasture until we could cut up the fallen trees and repair the fence in the lower pasture, but there was K.C. on the other side of the dividing gate complaining at not being able to get through, just as though he’d done nothing wrong and he separation from his brother was all our fault. The little bastard!
I didn’t care! I was just relieved that he was back without our having to BRING him back, and the new plan now is to cut a trail through the woods to that neighbor’s property line so that if it happens again we can bring him straight home without having to go by road.
Sounds like a plan to me!!
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Neighbor’s paddock. Check it out!