I want to spend a little time with my bunny before I need to get to bed, but I want to tell this story before I forget or get busy and move on.
Tonight, in order to be able to attend a business dinner, I asked my dad to bring in Pie and Sioux and feed them. I had everything set up. It was going to be straightforward and simple. My horses like my dad and recognize him as part of my herd. I simply asked my dad to watch this simple video (amusingly by a woman who has a youtube channel called, “Help, my daughter loves horses!”) about catching and haltering a horse. In the past when my dad lead my horses places, it was simple enough to put the rope over their neck and lead them in. However, there’s a little less structure now, and routine is still being established.
I promised to have my phone on and near me and would answer no matter what was going on. True to my word, I walked right out of a meeting to take his call. He assured me everything went according to plan (not true) except that the horses were in the wrong stalls and eating the wrong food. I told him that wasn’t ok. And to slap Pie on the butt and send him to his own stall.
That did not work. So he switched their food.
And then he informed me that Sioux was wearing her grazing muzzle the whole time. I told him that it was highly likely that Pie had already eaten most of her food and she didn’t really get any dinner. I told him to get a scoop of Sioux’s food (which was another communication challenge because I’d recently switched the feed bins around), and give it to her. He asked how to do it without Pie eating it. I told him to lock Sioux in a stall with her food. My dad sounded irritated and said they were anxious or something like that. I told him to lock Pie in a stall and feed Sioux outside the stall. I kept hearing noises that sounded like mild chaos was happening and so I kept making suggestions and then he said, “You aren’t listening to me!” (which was mildly irritating since it is he who doesn’t listen to me). “Pie is in a stall.”
So he fed Sioux and I told him to wait until Sioux was done eating to let Pie out. I also asked him to close the gate. and for some reason that seemed sketchy and confusing, too. He never actually ever said, “I’ve closed and latched the gate.” and “The water is turned off.”
It did come up, however, that he did not go into the pasture and put the halter on Pie as I instructed. He opened the gate and both horses came trotting to him and more or less let him know that they knew the plan. And they took control of the situation from the start.
I realized that they were acting much children I’d babysat for would. . .”No! my mom didn’t actually mean that is our actual bed time!”, “Oh! my mom lets us eat cheetos in bed after midnight on Saturdays!” and in this case, “Papa! mom never makes Pie wear a halter to come in and I never wear a lead rope, we just run home like this! Aren’t we clever?!”
And then chaos ensued.
I’m still pleased I never had children. I’m too aware of bloodlines. I feel like I’m from a cross of a border collie and a whippet. Unless I found someone who was like a cross between a mastiff and a Newfoundland, there was no way I was having kids. I didn’t want to end up with children that were just like me and my family! More whippet/border collies? Oh, hell no.
So, instead, my poor father is stuck dealing with my horses that are perpetually little children who are trying to trick their papa.
My father is a saint.