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Horse

Sat., October 21, 2006

Katie and I headed into the wilds of New Jersey this morning to the farm where she keeps her horse. It’s nestled amid rolling hills clustered with vivid autumn foliage and there’s a farmhouse, stables, silo, goober stable-hands and a rascally golden-haired dog who’s always getting into trouble. Very storybook. I was introduced to some of the riders and their horses, both new and longtime, and with all the comings and goings and gossip, I’m convinced a horse farm would be a perfect setting for the next reality series.

I brought along a bag each of carrots and starlight mints. Horses do like peppermint, but candy isn’t good for their teeth. It’s also not good for human teeth, but we have capacity for higher thought and opposable thumbs so it’s tougher to keep us away.

When feeding a horse a carrot, Katie told me to offer it grasped in my fist. Handing off the carrot in the traditional fashion exposes carrot-shaped fingers to an animal that may not appreciate the difference, and listening to the crunching sounds amplified through that giant skull further convinced me not to tempt fate or the safety of my digits.

I found that it’s also not a good idea to dangle the remaining bag of carrots in plain sight. I got nosed several times for additional carrots, which was still cute despite the fact that the snout was attached to a creature that weighs as much as a Volkswagen.

I learned other things. Don’t walk behind a horse because you can get kicked accidentally. And anyway, walking aside a horse lets it keep an eye on you and any carrots you might have hidden in your coat.

Horses will piss and drop loads of crap with little or no notice. I also was amused by the power and duration of horse farts. It reminded me of a few guys I knew in college.

Horses have eyelashes. I don’t know what made me think they wouldn’t.

Like detailing a car, cleaning a horse is a time-consuming process because of the extensive surface area. There’s currying, brushing, washing, picking dirt and stones from hooves and inspecting for tick bites. Insect repellant for horses smells like Murphy Oil Soap.

Katie let me test-drive her horse as she lead it, which was a thrill. She had it move faster for a few spells which was not as much fun because my nuts got jostled and squished. Is this why cowboys were such solitary men?

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