Horse poor

Sabbath morn, June 9, 2012

By my watch it’s 4:30 AM Central Standard Time. I can’t sleep. Course I could console myself with the fact the rest of those in my region think it’s 5:30, a more respectable time to be up.

Teah, a Guernsey/Jersey cross milk cow has been sick and I am worried for her. The heat has been oppressive of late and I think she may have had a cow’s version of heat stroke. While high temperatures have not been near as bad as last year’s, humidity adds to the heat index and our low temperatures aren’t low at all. I am told we’ve experienced the hottest spring recorded.

I’ve got horses on the brain. First, we acquired a magnificent thoroughbred stallion that goes by the name Gaff for a lot less money than you'd think he'd be worth. Then, thinking it would be nice to have a quality mare to breed to him, (as if the dozen or so already in my pasture aren’t), I claimed a race filly. And another. And another. All of my money is not yet gone, so I may not be done.

Obsessive-compulsive disorder comes to mind.

I couldn’t give a shit less about gambling, but God I love watching a fit race horse.

My broodmare band suffered terribly over the last couple of years, a result of my own neglect. We’ve made a concerted effort to do right by them this year and it’s once again nice to gaze at our pastures adorned by slick, shiny mares and happy foals.

The local term for the ailment is horse poor.

Somehow, I don’t feel poor with a horse like this hanging around. (Sorry to brag.)