“Scary tale”

 Once upon a time there lived a woman who knew everything there was to know about horses. She knew that she knew everything there was to know about horses because she had done several courses with the Horse Society. She knew that horses live in stables, so she built a block of beautiful stables complete with arch and bell tower, so the horses would have a nice place to live. Four horses’ heads looking over the stable doors, she felt there wasn’t a nicer picture and it made her happy.

She built a big tack room with enough space for the horses’ wardrobes. Horses need different rugs for different seasons; to keep them warm in the winter, cool in the summer, comfortably in-between in spring and autumn, dry when it rains and above all, horses need rugs to keep them clean, so there were a lot of rugs. She knew that horses should never be allowed to leave the stable without protection for their legs, so there were lots of boots too: tendon boots, fetlock boots, sports boots, bandages, turn-out boots and over-reach boots. The tack-room was big and well-stocked, and the woman who knew everything about horses knew that she was giving her horses the best and that made her happy.

She also built a feed-room. Horses need three nutritious meals a day and this was where she would store the feed and prepare the meals and steam the hay. She knew the horses loved their meals, because they would all bang their doors while she was getting their food ready and they would lunge at the food as soon as she opened the door to put it in. She knew she was feeding her horses the best and that made her happy.

The woman who knew everything about horses was a conscientious horse woman. The vet was a regular visitor, the horses were all vaccinated and wormed on time and their teeth were floated yearly, and the farrier came every 6 weeks to nail new shoes on her horses’ hooves. The woman enjoyed the visits from the vet and farrier because she could talk about how much she knew about horses. She felt they respected her knowledge and that made her happy.

The woman who knew everything about horses knew that it was good for horses to go outside every day, but it was obvious that it meant on fine days only. Nobody likes getting wet and on rainy days the horses preferred to stay inside. But if the weather was good, she would bring the horses out for an hour. In the summer, she would fence off little, individual paddocks for the horses. The paddocks were very small, so the horses wouldn’t be able to run and hurt their legs. The horses couldn’t touch each other, so they wouldn’t be able to fight and hurt each other. In the winter, she wouldn’t use the paddocks, because the horses would damage the ground and then it would get muddy and the mud would pull their shoes off, so on dry days the horses took turns of half an hour each in the sand arena. On wet or windy days, all the horses preferred to stay inside. And there were lots of wet and windy days, but her horses were snug and cosy in their stables and that made her happy.

The only thing that didn’t make her happy was that the horses always seemed to be ailing something, although on second thoughts, it meant she didn’t have to ride and she could do what she did best, which was looking after the horses. And so she lived happily ever after.

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4 thoughts on ““Scary tale”

  1. The ongoing theme here is what made her happy, not the horses. Good intentions are not necessarily what’s best for the animal. Easier said than done, though. I am having a bit of anxiety about the thought of Gem going out with the herd…..I like having him close at hand. 🙂

    Loved how you wrote this story, BTW.

    • Wolfie, you’re dead right, this is all about the woman, she treats her horses the way she would want to be treated. It’s sad that she doesn’t really ask what her horses actually want and need.

      I know what you mean about wanting to have your horse close at hand. I felt the same when I had my horses in livery yards, I’m very lucky that I have them at home now. Gem will love it in the herd, he’ll be fine.

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