The Hawkish Dove and the Seeker, the Deciding, and the Old Hat
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
blustering and breakfast
Mornings this week have revolved around food. Each day I rise just before the sun (this sounds better than 6:40 AM) and climb aboard my faithful steed (this sounds better than car) to bring relief (breakfast) to 4 noble four legged beasts (horses). Their owner, Krosi, is a generous soul who has allowed me to ride her retired show pony whenever I want, so in return I'm helping out while she's away. The four, Midas, Wellington, Mountain Dew, and Thorton are a personable lot, but anyone who knows horses knows that if there is a dark side of a horse to be found mealtime is when it will be found. Otherwise delightful creatures turn crotchedly when faced with their compatriots getting food too, or worse, first. It has, however, been a pretty simple week so far.
The first day I think the four were a little surprised it was me (I usually visit once a week with treats), and were all noses wanting handouts (and breakfast, but sweet lumps work too). Midas is the King, imperiously tossing his head for faster service, his mood turning benevolent after his stomach is satisfied. Welley is the Good Cop, which is good, because he's tall enough that if he played Bad Cop it would be a long morning. No one could reach his head if he didn't want you to. Dewey is the Pony Girl. For those of you without good natured pony mares, she watches from a safe distance while the big horses make fusses and/or get brought in for breakfast, tries to sneak in when possible, but is generally easily managable and satisfied. Thorton is the Stationary Bear. He was once a fox hunter, but due to severe lameness (founder) is now retired, and moves around as little as possible. Because of his general immobility it is hard to place his rank in the herd, since he cannot bluster like Midas and doesn't have the motivation to show up at the gate every time people are there like Welley (but if people come to him, he's delighted). Breakfast, I discovered, brings out the bluster in the Stationary Bear, not at the hand that feeds him, but at the others who get fed (sensible, all things considered, but still annoying when you need to get a horse past him).
Once the King and the Good Cop have been brought in, all of them are fed, hay is spread, and the King and Good Cop are returned to the field for Musical Hay Bales (a game they pursue with devoted regularity).
I return to the Tower, change, warm up, and go rooting around the kitchen for my own breakfast and lunch. I used to have a good breakfast routine, but it didn't make it through the holiday season (or the 3 AM night I pulled...). No new breakfast being found I wind up with somewhat eccentric meals I don't want to tell you about.
Foraging for lunch usually consists of pulling a single leftover container out of the fridge and putting it in my bag to go to work. This week it's been more complex. Due to the Super Bowl party we hosted, we have a whole bunch of really random stuff in the fridge (chicken wings, anyone?) and on the counters. Out come the chicken wings. Out comes some other random item and then I go hunting for some other suppliment to ensure that I will, in fact, not starve before dinner. Yesterday was easy, I found a baked potato, today required more steps for melted cheese on toast. Customer Service 101, eat good meals. It works wonders, believe me.
The first day I think the four were a little surprised it was me (I usually visit once a week with treats), and were all noses wanting handouts (and breakfast, but sweet lumps work too). Midas is the King, imperiously tossing his head for faster service, his mood turning benevolent after his stomach is satisfied. Welley is the Good Cop, which is good, because he's tall enough that if he played Bad Cop it would be a long morning. No one could reach his head if he didn't want you to. Dewey is the Pony Girl. For those of you without good natured pony mares, she watches from a safe distance while the big horses make fusses and/or get brought in for breakfast, tries to sneak in when possible, but is generally easily managable and satisfied. Thorton is the Stationary Bear. He was once a fox hunter, but due to severe lameness (founder) is now retired, and moves around as little as possible. Because of his general immobility it is hard to place his rank in the herd, since he cannot bluster like Midas and doesn't have the motivation to show up at the gate every time people are there like Welley (but if people come to him, he's delighted). Breakfast, I discovered, brings out the bluster in the Stationary Bear, not at the hand that feeds him, but at the others who get fed (sensible, all things considered, but still annoying when you need to get a horse past him).
Once the King and the Good Cop have been brought in, all of them are fed, hay is spread, and the King and Good Cop are returned to the field for Musical Hay Bales (a game they pursue with devoted regularity).
I return to the Tower, change, warm up, and go rooting around the kitchen for my own breakfast and lunch. I used to have a good breakfast routine, but it didn't make it through the holiday season (or the 3 AM night I pulled...). No new breakfast being found I wind up with somewhat eccentric meals I don't want to tell you about.
Foraging for lunch usually consists of pulling a single leftover container out of the fridge and putting it in my bag to go to work. This week it's been more complex. Due to the Super Bowl party we hosted, we have a whole bunch of really random stuff in the fridge (chicken wings, anyone?) and on the counters. Out come the chicken wings. Out comes some other random item and then I go hunting for some other suppliment to ensure that I will, in fact, not starve before dinner. Yesterday was easy, I found a baked potato, today required more steps for melted cheese on toast. Customer Service 101, eat good meals. It works wonders, believe me.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
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