To graze, or not to graze: that is the question
- It’s Taco Tuesday!
- Taco Tuesday special report:
- Back in the day, I was a racehorse.
- To graze, or not to graze: that is the question
- It’s a miracle, I tell you, a miracle!
- The fine art of accepting treats from your human
- They called me the Cat Burglar
- Overall, the food here is very good.
- Inquiring minds want to know
- The new guy moves in
- Happy Vaccination Day
- Malfunctioning fly sheet edition
- The great escape
- Dog Days of Summer
- Down and Dirty
- The Quiet One
- Forest Monsters
- When the Farrier Comes
- Mealtime manner
- Happy Hour
- A day in the life.
- The Walking Wounded
- Ginger the racing pony
- Those Dangerous Cows and the Gate
- Drunken sailor and the pregnant lady
- How to eat hay 101
- Fly-free at last
- Body Work Edition
I love my stall, I adore it, I can’t put into words how much I love my stall. I get really upset when I can’t get in my stall. Some horses don’t like being in their stalls, but that is NOT my problem.
My stall is huge, bright and airy. My humans keep it full of fresh shavings. I love fresh shavings. The minute they are deposited in my stall, I pee in them. I never miss an opportunity to do that.
In the back of my stall there is a Dutch door that goes outside to a pleasant patio with a roof. The patio connects to the dry lot where my girlfriend Ginger lives. The dry lot has a gate out into a lovely pasture full of grass. It is quite the excellent setup.
During the day, the back door to my stall is open and I can hang with my girlfriend Ginger in the patio and dry lot. If it is rainy, we hang out under the patio roof, relaxing and munching on the hay they leave for us. On nice days my human puts our hay out in the lot, so we have to go out to eat, but it isn’t that bad. I can run into my stall anytime I want.
Ginger isn’t allowed out in the field (something about the grass being too rich) so when she is with me the gate to the grass is closed. I love Ginger so I don’t mind, and I can be in my stall whenever I want.
That brings me to my biggest decision of the day: to graze, or not to graze? About the same time every afternoon, the short human comes out and captures my Ginger and locks her in her patio. They bribe her with hay so she goes. I run to the gate and call for her, but she likes the hay better than me… I always feel a little betrayed. Then the short one opens the big gate to the field and tells me to go graze. It looks inviting and I usually walk up to the gate to consider my options, but some days I am just not feeling it. I might go out and take a few bites, but then I squeal and run right back to my stall.
Ginger thinks I am nuts. She said if they opened that gate for her, she would run out and never come back.
I don’t know, I think grass is overrated. I would rather hang out in my stall.