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This is actually from an old blog from several years ago.  My father was in poor health and mentioned he wished he could have seen our little horses. We spent a day working to put a picture in stories together for him. He passed away just a couple of weeks later so I’m sure glad we got the idea to do this for him. A year later we lost my beloved “Honey”, the buckskin mare in the good grooming picture, and just this year our much loved Anniedawg passed away on Easter Sunday. My big brother lost his war with cancer, but my wonderful husband emerged victorious over Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Things got tough and scary in the years since I wrote this blog post, but the little farm goes on with fresh hope, new furry faces and cherished memories.

Here at the miniature horse farm we rise at around 5:30-6:00 each morning, creak our way slowly out of bed and stumble toward the coffee maker. We wake up via caffeine I.V. while checking email and reading news on line, then we head for the medicine cabinet and hit the dated, categorized, carefully compartmentalized pill boxes that we’re told keep us living. Then we dress and sit dumbly on the edge of the bed, as if our boats fetched up in mud, while our engines try, re-try and try again to turn over. Mostly what we get is that “tick, tick, tick” sound of a bad battery. Eventually, however, we sputter to a start and mosey out to the barn to feed the horses around 7-ish.


Being short has it’s priveleges.

Then we feed horses. Horses who today are standing out there, tapping their toes, and not at all happy that breakfast is late. Rowena is determined to chase William down for her bowl because as you can see the poor baby is emaciated.


Handsome is turning himself into a giraffe trying to inhale his feed straight out of the scoop before I can dump it in his feeder.


William and John handle the heavy chores around here, lifting those bales, toting that poop and such. (Imagine Green Acres theme playing in the background)


John also handles the WHW (Wittmann Horse Wrestling) duties whenever anyone gets out of line.



While the horses eat we check the garden for ripe veggies so the rabbits and squirrels don’t make off with them first. The rabbits have finally gotten desperate enough to eat zucchini. Looks like we’ve been raided overnight AGAIN.


Gol-durn rabbits! We’ll show ’em!


Then, it’s time to ride out and check the fence lines.


Good grooming practices are part of the daily routine, at least for the 4- legged residents. Folks wouldn’t recognize me without hay in my hair.


William tries to explain the concept of rabbit hunting to Elmo and Anniedawg. They just want their biscuits and bacon thanks.


On weekends we love to watch the televised PBR events after the evening chores.



And that’s pretty much our day, minus the tractor work, house work, nap and writing!

DISCLAIMER: No herbivores were harmed during the making of this blog post.