The night before last, I flicked on the TV to catch the weather report -- like I said before. Hearing the startling news that we might get a LOT of snow, and because it was not yet dark out, I thought I'd do my livestock a favor. I would at least TRY to bring them down from the upper pasture where there is no shelter except trees -- to the barn yard. That way, they could get in under the shed roof in case we got that heap of snow they were calling for in the weather forecast. The animals had only been out on the lush pasture a few days, so I expected they'd give me a hard time.
I went out and gave my hurricane holler that I use to summon them from afar and, much to my surprise, all the cows and young stock came on a tear. That was easy. The only critter left to go round up was the old horse. He had already decided he would get in under the canopy provided by the trees up at the top of the hill. I got a little grain in a scoop and traipsed up the hill in the now drizzling rain. Never one to refuse something to eat, he came right along.
Now, this old horse has always done something when I try to lead him anywhere, that I guess he finds amusing. He only does this to ME. When I walk alongside him, he jockeys for position so he can trounce my foot. Every. Stinking. Time. No matter how I hold the lead, he does his fancy footwork and boof! He stomps on my foot.
Well, this time we were heading down hill and I had clumsy rubber boots on. When he nailed my foot, he actually only got a good hold of the boot from the side. He missed! The problem was, I was mid-step when he pinned my boot down, so before I could even blink, I found myself flat on my face in the wet grass. I did a total belly-whopper.
I swear that horse was laughing. He'd be laughing out his backside if I had landed face-first in a cow flop!