It’s Christmas Eve, Eve. I’m half of America away from my beloved dragon. And I had a terrible dream that included him.
So I did the most rational thing ever. I texted the crew at the barn and requested a pic of him this morning to assure me he is well and all is right with the world in spite of my irrational fears. The pic showed him sharing talking time with his good friends at the pasture corner they share.
I am normally a very logical person. I am practical and measured in most areas of my life. But my achilles heel is that horse.
It’s a very horse people thing. We are like a cult of control freaks. We all believe our secret recipe for nutrition is the only thing keeping our horses from death’s door, for example. Until it isn’t. Then we ask everyone we know what they do and get 487 different answers, all delivered with serious confidence and lots of anecdotal proof. And depending on what we learn, we make endless tiny adjustments to the recipe..forever.
We all have our own beliefs about every aspect of our horse’s care and can discuss those ideas endlessly with each other. We are ravenous for more information and new science to keep our horses at the peak of health and soundness.
And when I get outside this neurotic circle I get nervous. What if he isn’t taking every breath in perfect comfort and happiness? What if he runs out of his medication or cookies? What if the weather extremes are stressing him? What if he’s too warm in his blanket? Or not warm enough without it?
Mind you, I have none of these concerns about my husband, who is also at home without me. I trust him to take care of himself and the dogs. I miss them all, but don’t worry.
But the horses are different. In spite of the fact that I know darn good and well that they are pretty resilient in the elements and that any troubling changes in their behavior would be reported immediately by the people I trust with their care in my absence, I still reserve the anxiety prone area of my brain for them.
I have no solutions to share. There is no cure for horse crazy.
And that’s okay. Happy Holiday Eve, eve.