The opinions expressed in previous entries may or may not express the current opinion of the author.

Sunday, June 5, 2011


Liberty on the Lawn provides opportunities for horse-human interaction in a way which is not possible when the horses are confined to their pasture.

The horses must be rather curious about the people they see coming and going from the house. If those people are not particularly horse-oriented, they will remain forever just a distant curiosity. When the horses are allowed access to the human domain, however, they can introduce themselves to anyone they want to, infiltrating their space and working their horsey magic, Svengali-like, upon the unsuspecting humanoid.

Today, I happened to look over to the picnic area of our backyard, where the remains of last night's party were still strewn about. My not-very-keen-on-horses son was standing placidly with a can of soda in one hand, and the other hand resting on George's neck. Over the course of the next hour or two, my son and Bridget and George wandered in and out of each others' space - sometimes the horses seeking him out, sometimes the other way around.

Chloe and I rendezvoused in the field while the others were distracted.

George discovered my son and daughter outside the kitchen door and went over to be with them. As long as he was there, they stayed. When he left, they went inside.

Later, I took a stool outside onto the stoop and sat with George and Lucy the dog. Lucy allowed George to snuffle her, finally losing her equanimity and snapping at him when he nibbled a little too hard.

Here is George inspecting the air
conditioning unit thingie

Here is George just having tried to
get in the window.
Here is the naughty hole he made
in the process.
Speaking of  naughty, when we went outside to cook and eat supper, Bridget and George were determined to be part of it. They knocked over chairs, emptied coolers, tried to steal hot dogs, wanted to sit at the picnic table, and generally did not endear themselves to the human population other than me.

Bridget plans her attack.
When they were all tucked up back in their field and had eaten their own supper, I went in with my book and stool and bottle of beer.

Bridget thinks reading is boring.
She wanted to eat my book.
George succeeded.
Mostly, though, George stood quietly beside me.


  1. Oh, crikey, I love these posts so much, June. I don't know who I want to be more, you or George! Your way of living with them -- and I'm sure of this -- "provides opportunities for horse-human interaction in a way which is not possible when the horses are confined to their pasture." I think you are having your horses in ways most of us will never know.

  2. I love how George took a bite right above "Martyrdom is not the supreme value!" It seems fitting somehow.

  3. George's version of highlighting ... ?