We were a little late with Valentine’s feed tonight, so when we went out to bring him into the barn, he wasn’t waiting at the gate like he usually is. I whistled for him, rattled the feed bucket, tapped on the gate – nothing. So we grabbed flashlights and headed out into the pasture to find him.
So picture this: 7 acres of rolling pasture, interspersed with stands of large trees. No streetlights, of course, this is rural area. Lots of high weeds, because the pasture is desperately in need of bush-hogging (for those of you unfamiliar with the term, it’s kind of like mowing your lawn, but the lawn is a lot bigger and so are the plants). And somewhere out in the middle, in the pitch dark, is a pitch-black horse. Needless to say, we didn’t find him. We heard a lot of crashing around in the underbrush, which we really hope was Valentine, but never saw him. Until we got back to the barn, where he was patiently waiting for us.
