My husband moved the horse feeder across the pasture, up on top of a hill to keep “Normie” the blind and lame old man of a horse, out of the mud. Good, idea? Well when I first heard of it, I thought NOT! This is where a woman should just follow her first instinct. To feed him you must walk through knee deep mud in muck boots, down a hill (sliding all the way), through a stream and back up a hill to his feeder. (Keep in mind he, “Norman” is going blind and following you, with reckless abandon wanting his dinner)
As I pondered to look at the pasture this morning, I see the feeder on the hill and I stop and think about the conversation I had with my husband over this…it went something like this “Honey, I think this is dangerous, I could get stuck in the mud, plus it’s a long way for Normie to go” My hubby says…”It’s easy, no problem” So as I look across the pasture to the hill with the feeder, I still am thinking…”not so easy, maybe a problem” But I do see that the place the feeder is placed, is right under a tree and that there is no mud. I think OK, maybe my hubby is right and it would be better for my horse. (This is where I went very, very wrong.)
So as I start down the hill, Norman, the 17 hand, pushy old man…is following right on my heels. I see a small tree has gone down due to the storms; I’m trying to guide Norman around it, but with the mud and his need for his food RIGHT NOW, we both just climb over it. At this point I know one thing for sure, why did I not listen to my womanly instincts? I keep going and the next obstacle on my course is the stream…I pause and think I should try and jump it, but I’m too stuck in the mud, so I just start to wallow through. My left boot get’s fully stuck, Norman who is right on my tail, barrels in to me and we (the hay and I) go flying, face first in to the mud of death. I with some luck my face lands on the hay I was holding and I’m only covered in this Alaska cold mud from the neck down. Norman now thinks this is where I’m feeding him and is trying to climb over me to get his food. I try and push him back, I try to get up,I try and move, I try and push him back. But both boots are now fully taken over by the wet, icy cold thick quick sand. I’m fully stuck…Norman pushes me with his head, to move me out of the way and lets out a not so gentle, NAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Purely he was stating, “OK, mom this was fun, but give me my dam food” As hard as I could I fought to get out of that mud, wet and cold to the bone, out of breath from mud wrestling with a one ton, hungry horse… I surrender to the mud, Norman and the total situation. My horse is now standing over me in the middle of the stream, happy as a clam, eating his alfalfa. I’m black from head to toe, both boots and now my pants stuck in the mud and I do what any genteel lady farmer would do. I pull my boots off with the pants still in them. Climb, through the mud, on my hands and knees to move away from my horse….in nothing but my undies, Mickey Mouse sweat shirt and bare feet. Let me add here I had mud in every nook and cranny and grumpily head for the house. Cussing, my husband out all the way. Thank god, the neighbors cannot hear what I’m saying! With that said…they really don’t need to hear a thing, because at this point there crazy half naked neighbor in walking to her house covered with mud. I’m quite sure that was enough!!
By the time I get to the house, I’m totally out of breath and at this moment I new for sure, this body was not made for mud wrestling.
As I climbed in the warm hot shower, all I could think was…next time my gut says “NO” and my hubby says “no problem, it’s easy” I will run like hell!!
Just for fun!!
Cynthia Sharp
Body Bonding Coach
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