A couple small rain systems came through last week. Nothing very cold or very wet. But today, a substantial winter storm arrived. We spent Sunday getting ready. Brett clawed leaves out of the rain gutters and shoveled them out of the drain pipe where our driveway meets the road. I added more straw to the goat shelter.
Before dinner, we brought the horses from their pastures to the barn. Lucy and Pistol were led in first; Lucy wanting to prance but holding it together, and Pistol slowly walking behind. Pistol will be 22 this year and in the past month we've noticed that she is walking slowly. Her appetite is good, and her attitude bright, but she walks slowly now.
Brett led Flash to the barn next and then I attempted to lead Tex to the barn at liberty. He was very tempted by the grass growing around the barn. He struggled, but stayed. Until we got to the barn door. He stopped; he looked down the barn aisle; he looked at the grass; he looked at me -- pondered a minute and then walked off to the grass. I followed.
He had his head down, as I approached, under a maple tree behind Flash's stall run-out, when Kersey jumped up from where she had been sitting and dashed past him. He was already feeling uncomfortable with me approaching to move him along and, as she flew by, he threw his head in the air, planted his feet and then pushed sideways, exploding into flight behind the turn-outs. He stopped when he got to the corner, spun and stared at me with his head high and nostrils flared.
"What do you want to do, Tex?"
He trotted over to me and stopped, reaching his muzzle toward me. I'm not sure if it was "sorry" or "save me" or "do you have a cookie?" -- I didn't really care about the reason; I was happy he had chosen to come to me. It was getting dark so I slipped the halter, which was hanging from my shoulder, on and led him quietly to the barn.