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Slowly we’ve been piecing together history for Beau and Leo.
Beau we knew was a captured mustang, I did the research on his tattoo and discovered he had been in a herd in NM and he was approximately 7 years old. I already knew about the abuse he suffered during training and have discovered that its effects run deeper than I had originally thought. He has a deep seated distrust of men but we’ve been working on that with mild success. He’s eager to please but wary of being hurt. Trust is a big issue for him.
And then there’s Leo. On the surface he looks like a simple victim of malnutrition. But I have come to find out that our sweet tempered, mild mannered colt (he is not gelded) has been subjected to the maniacal whims of a apparently deranged man who found great humor in shooting his rifle to make the horses run. Turns out he either aimed at or accidentally hit Leo during one of those sessions. The photo shows where the bullet hit him. I can’t find an obvious exit wound so the bullet may still be lodged in there somewhere.
Why?
I mean I love to watch horses running… But shooting them to accomplish that? Explains why Beau has trust issues… And yet Leo is the same old sweetheart. What’s really annoying is that the neighbors called out the USHS when they saw the blood on his flank and later heard the shooter bragging about what he had done. And USHS did nothing.
Sometimes it’s just not fair.
To the people who have been stealing our horse feed… please stop. I appreciate that the economy isn’t good right now and that feed prices are continuing to climb upward but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you are a thief.
For the first time in the 30+ years that I have lived here we are going to have to lock down our feed room because the thieving is that out of hand. Just this week you’ve taken over 40lbs of feed.
We do not use a commercially available feed. It’s not like running a couple miles into town to pick up a new bag. In an attempt to support our local SC economy we use locally milled feed, so we have to CALL in an order, WAIT for it to be milled and then DRIVE 45 mins to go pick it up. So not only are you stealing our feed, you’re stealing our time.
And furthermore… if you are who I’m most definitely sure you are… your horses are nice young light horses requiring minimal feeding on your lush green pasture, especially since you use them for absolutely nothing. My horses are older DRAFT horses that require a great deal more feed and because of their age and condition screwing with their feed ratios isn’t a good idea. When I take on a horse I take it for the long haul, not just for the duration of it’s usability… so I really don’t appreciate your stealing the food right out of their mouthes.
And further-furthermore… I am not particularly happy that you feel that it’s “OK” to steal our feed so that you can continue your self-destructive lifestyle. If you can’t get your drug money and your feed money to run out evenly then either kick the drugs or get rid of the horses. Simple.
So, just so we’re clear… DO NOT STEAL OUR FEED… it’s wrong, illegal and in your case stupid.
I love my kids. Really I do. Honestly. For really. I even like them too.
However right at this moment my two oldest are in their respective beds having a “forced” nap. Nevermind that Sophie’s long since graduated from naps, nevermind that Dandy only naps after lunch. They need a nap. Or better yet, I need them to nap.
It seems my two intrepid adventurers decided that instead of playing with the thousands of toys in their room, they would much rather plunder the bathroom cabinets, which are so high that I have to stand in a (kiddie) chair to reach the topmost shelf.
And it wasn’t so much that they plundered really. It’s the fact that they sought out the new tube of concealer (’cause even us make-up free gals have occasion to hide blemishes) and used it to war-paint Beckett and have now “forgotten” where they put it.
“Forgotten” being very loosely used in the previous sentence.
First they told me it was upstairs. Then they told me it was “on a table”. Then it was under a pillow, then under the bed, then downstairs, then… well then they just couldn’t come up with another place to suggest.
I offered that maybe they were lying to save themselves from punishment… which was met with the biggest, doe-y-est eyes you’ve ever seen (I think Sophie even managed an “anime eye shimmy”.
I was not impressed.
In one of my least proud Mommy moments I threatened to box up all their toys and give them to the mountain people (one day I’ll explain, but for now, just follow me). When that didn’t seem to cause enough effect I took away Sophie’s PSP (which is actually mine) AND the dvd player and the effect was IMMEDIATE! Tears, grovelling, vain attempts to find the concealer… all to no avail.
So knowing that my temper was rapidly fraying beyond all hope I “napped” them. Considering that everyone is sickish here and on some sort of cough medicine, the odds are good that they’re already asleep.
In the midst of my tirade with the older miscreants I overheard M having a similar go with Beckett. Turns out he’s learned that the middle lever on the desk chair releases the back support and basically dumps the (unsuspecting) seated person into the floor. Perhaps it’s a nice trick with Sophie… not so much with M.
Ok… I was wrong, Dandy’s not asleep. He’s chanting “I want to say I’m sorry” from upstairs. I’m sooo not impressed right at this moment.
