Читать книгу 9 Wild Horses - S Carol Johnson - Страница 7

In the spring of 2011, I became a permanent resident up here on this mountain. I left the city behind to become part of this land where I could see the stars at night; where I could hear the birds sing and the wind blow; where I didn’t hear sirens blaring or automobile horns honking or motors running 24/7. And for the first time, I was able to watch this herd much more closely since I could see them anytime they came around. When they did wander through I saw a new baby closely following the lead mare (this is the same mare that was on the other side of the fence when I first met them) where ever she went. This baby was a reddish/brown with three white socks and a nice pretty white blaze on her face. Her legs, mane and tail were the same color as the rest of her – not like her mother who was a bay with copper brown body and the black legs, mane and tail. This was the first foal I was able to watch from such a young age. But risking being too repetitive, this little filly was the offspring of the white stallion, not the gray stallion. I never tried to get close to this little one – because I simply didn’t know anyone could get close to the babies. Her mother, who was pretty tame normally, was keeping baby at a distance so it never crossed my mind to attempt to get close.

I also realized that the babies that had been with the herd, when the stallions separated the herd the summer before, were nowhere to be seen. I knew so little about horses that it didn’t even dawn on me to wonder where those foals were – why they weren’t with the herd now.

Knowing what I know now, the two gray mares must have had babies near that same time, but I never saw those babies and I never had a chance to know what happened to them. At the time I just knew there was one new baby.

The herd came through relatively routinely that summer and fall. It was fun to watch them, but that was all it amounted to. I could tell that the horses were continuing to distance themselves from people as any domestic remnants disappeared. When the snows set in, the herd disappeared completely. I got one last glimpse of the gray stallion when he came running through lickety split and whinnying the whole time. I heard the whinnying before I actually saw the horse. He appeared to be frantic -- like he was running from a predator or some such thing. As best I could, I looked to see if he was wounded. but I couldn’t see anything as he ran by. Again, knowing what I know now, I’m guessing that he had gone to check something out and the harem kept moving and he was trying to find them again. Then he disappeared over the ridge and I didn’t see or hear them again until spring.

Spring of 2012 followed a relatively mild winter. The herd wandered through and eventually we had two new foals that spring/summer – one belonged to the lighter of the two gray mares and the other to the lead mare and both would have been sired by the gray stallion. The foal from the year before was still with the herd. Again they were keeping their distance, but I was watching them anytime they got near. The older of the two new foals was a colt (a male) born to the gray mare and he was almost the same reddish color as the yearling, but he only had two white socks – on his back legs – and the blaze on his face was a bit wider but really not a noticeable difference. The other one was a dapple gray filly with medium gray mane and tail, born to the lead mare. The lead mare now had a yearling and a baby. You can see the babies laying down in the background in the photo. I wasn’t big on taking pictures when this all started. I was busy just living it.

It is with these two babies that my story with this herd really starts. I couldn’t get close to them but I was watching them any chance I got and I was learning a lot about them just by watching. It didn’t seem like much at the time, but just being visible to these guys would eventually make a difference.

Our story really begins with these babies

Names……

When I was a kid we had chickens. Lots of chickens. Over a hundred. And, as I did with all our critters, I named each and every one of those hundred chickens. So apparently I like labels. That’s what a name really is – a label. It helps me keep things orderly in my brain. So it was time to label this lead mare. I had more interaction with her than any of the others because she was not as afraid of me. I actually bought some treats at the local feed store and discovered that she would take the treats right out of my hand. According to this beautiful horse that is obviously the lead mare, it absolutely wasn’t okay for any of the others to get any of these treats. She rules with an iron hoof. She would lay her ears back if they even were thinking about wanting a treat. But that is pretty much how she led the herd on a general basis. She truly was the bossiest creature I had ever met – and that includes all the bossy people I have met!! So this horse’s name just had to be Bossie. And it fit so well that anyone that got wind of me calling this horse ‘Bossie’ also called her ‘Bossie.’ Sometimes a name just fits.

Bossie, the lead mare

Lead Mare……

I have since learned that the duties of a lead mare require her to be responsible for the well being of the herd. Her job as a lead mare comes before her job as a mother. The well-being of the herd is more important than any one horse in the herd – even if that one horse is her foal – a lot more on that later. Her partner in this job is the stallion. In this particular case these two are not great friends, but they are a great team. If the lead mare takes off running, the herd asks no questions – they follow her right now. She has to rule with that iron hoof if this is to work to keep the herd safe. I have only seen her do this a couple of times, but when she does, they follow, right now!! If the stallion takes off running, he somehow tells the mares to either follow him or to stay put and let him deal with it. If they are to follow he will often start running, then Bossie will take over the lead and the stallion will get behind them to protect from the rear. I have not figured out how they communicate all this, but there is definitely communication there that isn’t just the ears.

Winter was fast approaching as I was getting to know Bossie. I wondered if and when they would disappear. And, as if Mother Nature sends them a message, they did disappear and didn’t return all winter. That was a pretty snowy winter and most of the time there was at least 20” of the white stuff on the ground. I thought about them often and wondered if they were finding enough to eat. But there wasn’t a thing I could do to help them. I had no idea where they went and the snow was just all too much – especially for someone who was still learning to drive in the stuff.