Just a little bit, mostly on my back and rump, but it is a harbinger of spring, and Mother says she's willing to take any little sign.
For these Southerners, it's been a snowier winter than they've grown accustomed to. Myself being from North Dakota... yeah, still hot down here in Ohio.
Mother trimmed my hoovies this evening. She did my back feet first, then was scratching on me a bit before starting the fronts. She took a step back, and said, "Boyfriend, you seem taller than I remembered."
Then she realized how overdue my front feet were.
Personally, I thought I had done a perfect job with them. Mother agreed, but felt some wall needed to come off.
So, Mother at last deigned to gift us with her presence evening last. It had been approximately forever since she'd made an appearance, so I peered at her in the darkness through the magic window but didn't nicker, as I was already eating hay. And she doesn't deserve a greeting.
Apparently she didn't see me, cause she didn't say "Hi," either.
Hrmmph. Donkeys are more important, are they?
She flipped on the lights, and I heard her rustling around and picking the wee donks' hoovies. All was quiet. I think she grabbed my halter and rope at this point, but I decided I was thirsty, and left the run in shed and went around the corner to the trough.
Mother waltzed into the run in, then said "Boyfriend?!" in an alarmed tone.
Mother walked back out under the canvas flap, peered around in the darkness, and called "Boyfriend!". I admit she sounded a little panicked.
Apparently her night vision is not as acute as mine.
She turned and walked back into the run-in and looked around again... what, I am hiding under the shavings? Are you dim-witted, Mother? I felt her mind picture: something about surely the Aunties would have called if I had died.
I felt bad for her, and walked back towards the run in without having gotten my drink. She put my halter on and threw my rope over the magic window-sill and let me munch hay while she picked out my freshly mud-enriched feet.
She gave me some scritches, and came back with a huge handful of Mrs. Pastures and promises to return more often and be a better Mother (I've heard that before).
Apparently, she thought I was UPSET that she hasn't come to see me at all lately, and so not only didn't look for her or say hello, but went out of my way to hide and give her a heart attack.
I am a fifteen year old horse named Boyfriend, sometimes Bif. Sometimes "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown". Sometimes names I really don't think bear repeating. After years of misappropriating mother's phone and email, I now have my own site.
Have a question for me? Please email me Boyfriend@IamBoyfriend.com
All of the stuff under My Favorite Grazing Places and Mother's Favorite Sites are unpaid (why would I need money?), Mother just really likes them and likes to share. She can be a generous sort, at times...
Mother's other blog: A tale of love and blah blah blah. Not me.