We are unforgiven this morning, getting the cold shoulder. They were grounded. Well, not really. They were just back where they always were after having escaped the day before.
They had come from the lower field thinking lunch was ready, when Raven saw the gate open. They glided toward it, first unsure, somewhat in disbelief, then, when they saw the gate was really open, they bolted.
We've had neighbors’ horses escape into our yard before. It’s usually easy to catch them. Jenny tells me they like to be caught, meaning, I suppose, they like to be safe and protected. She gently leads one away while the other follows.
But ours were now out of sight. They could be anywhere, including across the road or in the far woods on the other side. We went hobbling after them, Jenny on her new hip, I on my old one, with neighbors pointing this way and that. We found them once, found them twice, and lost them both times.
The police were called, mostly to slow down the traffic coming over the hill. They are used to this sort of thing and find it entertaining. In a short while, they were reported heading up into the woods about a half mile away.
We found them standing outside a paddock containing a pair of donkeys---cousins! They probably knew they were there all along. Equines are like that. They know where everybody is in the neighborhood.
We called a friend with a trailer when no amount of carrots, treats or grain persuaded them to come home. It took about forty-five minutes to get them in. It wasn’t pretty. They weren’t happy about it.
This morning their ears are back, not looking at us directly. It may be a few more days of treats, grooming, and sweet nothings, before they finally forgive us.
