Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Cookie Crumbles

It has been a very dull week. Last weekend the farrier came out, and that was nice because he always gives me a cookie when he's done. I feel kind of bad because he had to work harder than usual... my hooves and frogs are hard as concrete, just like the ground.

Sunday, Mother lunged me for a little while, and she hopped aboard me bareback for a minute or two. It was like old times. Then... "the work week". I didn't see Mother for an eternity. My dinners didn't have crumbled up Withers and Withers cookies in them. There were no goodnight kisses or goodbye cookies.

Mother was up today. I perked up... cookies, lady! But she went and got my favorite mare, Jeanie, and put her in crossties and started brushing her. I stared through the window, agog. I wait all week for her, and she is grooming someone else! And she measured Jeanie with the measuring tape... why?

When I realized Mother wasn't going to give me a cookie, and was grooming another when she clearly should be spending time with me... well, I left the window, and walked to the far wall of the run in. I couldn't help but watch, though. Whenever she turned to look my way, I quickly moved my head and shifted my gaze, but before long I had to come back and stare through the window again.

I saw her... she kissed her on the nose and gave her cookies. UNFAIR!

Then, she came out and stretched the measuring tape on Bert, and pet me and said she'd be back up after she visited Mr. Smothers. Oh, come on!! He's just a cat! What about me?! What about my needs?

When she did come up, she was talking talking talking in the little black flippy phone. She talked while she brushed me, with lots of static-y electric-y shocks, I might add. Thanks. She talked while she picked my feet. She hung up... then started talking again, and was even talking while she lunged me. Hello? Why did you even come up here?

Finally, she put the phone on a fence post and actually focused on me when I went the second direction. I tried really hard to look awesome, so she would realize I was the most important thing, and she should pay attention to me.

She made my dinner just the perfect temperature and sloppiness, and there were some Withers and Withers cookies crumbled in it, and Mrs. Pastures cookies on top, too. It was perfect and delicious. And I got goodbye kisses and cookies. So I guess it was a good day after all.

Cookies... yum!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Pathetic Little Update

Mother came up to see me tonight. This is the first week day she has been here in an eternity. She gave me my dinner, and kissed my nose and brought me cookies.

She did not brush me. She scratched my forehead and left brown dust contrails on my face. She sighed. Hey, I am the one covered in dirt because you, Mother are too "busy" to come see me. There will be no sighing about my condition, at least not from you.

I am hopeful that we will do fun things this weekend... like more cookies and a good, good grooming. Oh, and maybe I can show you how well my hair is growing out. I am going to look very punk for awhile, according to Mother... whatever that means.

Monday, October 18, 2010

No Good Deed

Mother decided that we would do stuff together this weekend. I really just want her to stop by every day, brush me, give me my dinner and my good night cookies. Is that so much to ask? She ends up loading all of our together time into two days, and some of it is a lot like work.

Saturday she took Belle and me down to the sheep pastures. She thought we would like to have a little more grass than what we have at home. And we did graze for about fifteen minutes, but then we decided a little canter was in order. After that, Belle started feeling homesick, and was calling up to the herd left behind. I started pacing the fence line, at trot and gallop, of course, trying to find the way out so my mare could be happy again. Occasionally, we did another fast lap or two or three of the field.

I have to admit, sometimes it was hard making all those fast moves; there is a bit of a slope. By the time I decided this was silly, I was huffing and puffing and sweating and even a little foamy in places... like my face. It is rough having a Nokota coat in Ohio when it's in the 70s. Mother sighed, questioned our intelligence, and took us home.

She put us in the multipurpose, as she was worried we would head straight to the water trough, and we started scrubbing around looking for grass. Mother looked a bit put out, and called us ungrateful in addition to the intelligence-questioning comments.

She did make my dinner, however, and I was dry by the time she came out with it. Poor Belle was still a little sweaty, although she hadn't gotten nearly as warm as I had down in the field. My coat, while thick and furry, dries super fast. Mother says the Nokotas who didn't develop these quick drying coats probably didn't do so well if they got hot in the winter in North Dakota.

Oh, oh, and the devil dogs next door brought the evil grazing muzzle out from under the porch, the one they took off with months ago, so now Mother has two of them to torture me with. I'm doomed... well, whenever the grass comes back, that is.

Sunday, October 10, 2010


My mane and forelock are growing out. Mother says I may keep them from now on, unless I get into some really bad burrs. She switched me into my winter halter, because she says she'll let me go really furry and not cut in a halter path. I'm a little hairy with my winter coat coming in, and all that extra bulk makes the already snug summer/driving halter too tight.

I am not a fat head, that was just mean of her to say.

Sadly, the winter halter is the "raspberry purple" one that anyone with eyes in their head knows is pink. But the comfort it allows makes it tolerable. Of course, she could buck up and go get me a winter sized one in black. Would that occur to her? No.

We continue to go without rain. There is no grass in the pastures. We scrub about, and enjoy our multiple hay feedings. I wish she would take me down to the sheep pastures... there was grass down there. Sure, it's burnt out and brown, but it's grass. I will have to use my powers of persuasion...

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


I am invisible. Mother never sees me anymore. I suppose she could be the invisible one, since I don't see her...

Perhaps I should wander away, and find a new cookie and care human. Mother will cry and cry, but she should have been taking care of me now, not just when it is convenient for her. And my wi-fi hardly ever works at all anymore... not fair! I'm up here at the mountain hideaway with no communication to the outside world.

Her excuses about 12 hour "work" days and 3 hour night classes and whatever other drivel she keeps spouting will no longer placate me. Something radical must be done.

Any suggestions?

Although we did go for a walk this weekend... and I got to handgraze where there was actual green grass (I was almost forgetting grass can be green, our pasture is so dry) and I got a couple of small apples from the apple tree. So that was nice. But it is almost worse when we do fun things for two days, and then no contact at all for what seems like forever...

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