By Patty Wilber
A bunch of our horses are wearing fly masks. The four mares, mostly, keep theirs on. Don’t mess with the mares! They have also trained H to keep his on.
The other four geldings, on the other hand, really feel the need to party. Two of the younger boys (a three-year-old and a four-year-old) seem especially fond of removing and hiding them. The older gents (19 and 23) apparently can’t stand to remain out of the fray and seem to like to be de-masked.
So, every morning, we humans get to finish the previous night’s game. They hide the face masks, and we seek them
“Why, yes, BJ! You. The first time you hid a fly mask in the water tank, it took me quite some time it figure it out, but I am on to you now!”
“I see,” I say. “And at age 23 with that healing scratched cornea, you just let him do that?”
“well….” said he. “my eye is feeling much better.”
“Better,” I mumble, “but not 100%! And oh look! Two more.”
“Uh huh,” I say. “And at 19, are you not old enough to keep your face to yourself instead of sticking it over the fence and playing the equivalent of footsie with your head?!”
“it is sombra’s fault,” he says.
I just roll my eyes. The whole bunch of them regularly mess with each other! None are blameless. And I am left holding the bucket!
They all get breakfast and are busy eating for a while, until they get ready for the next round of Hide the Fly Mask!
I am not planning to play again, at least until I get some coffee!