at least an hour before everybody gets home from school. Outside, Dad’s crouched over the riding lawn mower. Pieces of metal and mower lie scattered in the long grass. “Dad, I’m going to hang out with the horses for a while,” I tell him.
His head jerks up. Grease smudges cover his face. “The horses? Is your mother all right with that, Kat?”
“I promise I won’t get into the stalls or the pasture. I’m just going to watch.”
“That’s nice,” Dad says, fiddling with the mower again. He pulls out a thin black belt from the overturned engine and acts like he’s just delivered a baby. “Ta-da! It’s a belt!”
“Congratulations, Dad. I’m off.” I head toward the pasture because Hank turned out all the horses except Chestnut this morning.
“Wait! Kat!” Dad calls after me. “Come back!”
I trudge back, ready to do battle if he’s changed his mind about letting me hang out with the horses. “What?”
“Why do you always find your cat in the last place you look for him?”
A joke? That’s why Dad called me back? I’m so relieved that I feel like laughing. But I’ll wait for the punch line. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“Why do you always find your cat in the last place you look for him? Because after you find him, you stop looking!” Dad and I both laugh so loud that Rex and Lion trot over to see if we’re okay.
I leave the dogs and Dad with the lawn mower and head toward the pasture again, hoping that Winnie’s right and I can help these horses simply by observing them.
For almost an hour, I observe and take notes. At first, I feel pretty silly.
The gray mare takes two steps. The buckskin’s ears go back. The sorrel lifts her head.
But after a while, I see more and start to pick up on interactions. All the buckskin has to do is turn her head, and the others stop grazing. There’s a pecking order going on too. I think the Pinto is at the bottom rung. She takes the bits of pasture the others leave behind.
But what if I’m wrong? I’m afraid Hank and Dakota are going to come home any minute and ask me what I’m doing. I don’t know enough about what I’ve observed to tell them. I need to run everything past Winnie.
It’s Tuesday, and I’m pretty sure Winnie mans the Pet Helpline after school. So, armed with pages of notes, I retreat to the house and log on.
KoolKat: Winnie, I don’t know if I noticed what I should have, but here goes. The gray mare and the Paint greeted each other by rubbing noses. Maybe they didn’t rub, but they did something with their noses. What’s that about?
WinnieTheHorseGentler: Great observation, Kat! They probably blew into each other’s nostrils. It’s a friendly greeting. You should try it sometime. Not with people, but with that pony, Chestnut. If he blows back, you’ve got yourself a friend.
KoolKat: Wow! I’ll try it. Maybe I should try it on the gray mare. I thought she was warming up to me. She seemed to be waiting for me, sticking her head over the fence. But when I walked up to her and reached for her, she backed off fast like she was afraid I’d hit her. I felt horrible.
WinnieTheHorseGentler: She may have been hit at some time. If that’s the case, it will take time for her to warm up to you. But it might help to think like she does. Horses have the biggest eyes of any land mammal. They can see all around themselves except right in front and right in back. So when you stand in front of her, she can’t see you, and she gets nervous. Try standing to the side of her.
KoolKat: Okay. Sounds good. I observed the bay and the sorrel together. They’re so cute. It’s a case of I’ll-scratch-your-back-and-you-scratch-mine. They used their teeth, but it seemed like they loved it. Not sure what to take away from that, but there you have it.
WinnieTheHorseGentler: Terrific! Horses love to be scratched by people, too. They’d much rather be scratched than patted.
KoolKat: Makes sense. And this is really helping me. But I was
His head jerks up. Grease smudges cover his face. “The horses? Is your mother all right with that, Kat?”
“I promise I won’t get into the stalls or the pasture. I’m just going to watch.”
“That’s nice,” Dad says, fiddling with the mower again. He pulls out a thin black belt from the overturned engine and acts like he’s just delivered a baby. “Ta-da! It’s a belt!”
“Congratulations, Dad. I’m off.” I head toward the pasture because Hank turned out all the horses except Chestnut this morning.
“Wait! Kat!” Dad calls after me. “Come back!”
I trudge back, ready to do battle if he’s changed his mind about letting me hang out with the horses. “What?”
“Why do you always find your cat in the last place you look for him?”
A joke? That’s why Dad called me back? I’m so relieved that I feel like laughing. But I’ll wait for the punch line. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“Why do you always find your cat in the last place you look for him? Because after you find him, you stop looking!” Dad and I both laugh so loud that Rex and Lion trot over to see if we’re okay.
I leave the dogs and Dad with the lawn mower and head toward the pasture again, hoping that Winnie’s right and I can help these horses simply by observing them.
For almost an hour, I observe and take notes. At first, I feel pretty silly.
The gray mare takes two steps. The buckskin’s ears go back. The sorrel lifts her head.
But after a while, I see more and start to pick up on interactions. All the buckskin has to do is turn her head, and the others stop grazing. There’s a pecking order going on too. I think the Pinto is at the bottom rung. She takes the bits of pasture the others leave behind.
But what if I’m wrong? I’m afraid Hank and Dakota are going to come home any minute and ask me what I’m doing. I don’t know enough about what I’ve observed to tell them. I need to run everything past Winnie.
It’s Tuesday, and I’m pretty sure Winnie mans the Pet Helpline after school. So, armed with pages of notes, I retreat to the house and log on.
KoolKat: Winnie, I don’t know if I noticed what I should have, but here goes. The gray mare and the Paint greeted each other by rubbing noses. Maybe they didn’t rub, but they did something with their noses. What’s that about?
WinnieTheHorseGentler: Great observation, Kat! They probably blew into each other’s nostrils. It’s a friendly greeting. You should try it sometime. Not with people, but with that pony, Chestnut. If he blows back, you’ve got yourself a friend.
KoolKat: Wow! I’ll try it. Maybe I should try it on the gray mare. I thought she was warming up to me. She seemed to be waiting for me, sticking her head over the fence. But when I walked up to her and reached for her, she backed off fast like she was afraid I’d hit her. I felt horrible.
WinnieTheHorseGentler: She may have been hit at some time. If that’s the case, it will take time for her to warm up to you. But it might help to think like she does. Horses have the biggest eyes of any land mammal. They can see all around themselves except right in front and right in back. So when you stand in front of her, she can’t see you, and she gets nervous. Try standing to the side of her.
KoolKat: Okay. Sounds good. I observed the bay and the sorrel together. They’re so cute. It’s a case of I’ll-scratch-your-back-and-you-scratch-mine. They used their teeth, but it seemed like they loved it. Not sure what to take away from that, but there you have it.
WinnieTheHorseGentler: Terrific! Horses love to be scratched by people, too. They’d much rather be scratched than patted.
KoolKat: Makes sense. And this is really helping me. But I was
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