Horses Running Free
Daylight is fading fast on this stormy day. Strong winds have been blowing sheets of rain across slick country roads and chaparral since before first light this morning. I looked out the window a few minutes ago to see if my friendly coyote, Zeke, was parading in front of my trailer looking for an evening handout. He, or she, is nowhere to be seen, but there are two tall horses browsing on alfalfa that was dumped out of my daughter's doghouses before the kennels, doghouses and her trailer were towed out at the beginning of last week. I went out to close my gate so they wouldn't be tempted to come into the yard that is too small for such big horses.
These horses are part of a small herd owned by the Kumeyaay Indian tribe's Mexican cousins, descendants of the Indian families left on the Mexican side of the border when the Gasden Purchase agreement was signed about 1846. One man has been living across the arroyo from me since last June with members of his family joining him from time to time. They have some young cattle and a herd of about 12 horses that are left free to roam in this horse camp and the wild land surrounding it when no horse campers are here. The weather has been so cold and stormy only two faithful campers have been here in more that a month.
The horses look scruffy and a little thin, but I've seen how much alfalfa they are fed, and it is enough. I think free roaming horses are kept a little hungry on purpose so they will come home to eat. I have fed most of them carrots, so they visit me from time to time looking for more.
A little while ago, while they were eating the newly rained-on dog-bed alfalfa, they heard their owner's truck in the distance, and they both raised their heads, pricked up their ears, flicked their tails, and galloped back across the arroyo. To me all horses are beautiful, even the scruffy ones. The sight of those horses, running with their tales raised toward that familiar pick-up truck is a sight to treasure.
The Kumeyaay cousins speak only their own language and Spanish, so we communicate only with waves. But no matter that there is no one else nearby and my daughter is gone, how can I be lonely when I have my dogs and cats, a friendly coyote, horse friends like these, and my many Gather friends to share stories like these?
I just had to tell you about them. Good night.
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Comments: 10
Good night sweet woman.
I could not do it as I am too crippled with arthritis to cope with the necessary things as I used to do. I lived on a mountain plateau farm with my children in Colorado with foot deep snow, and 14 miles outside of Farmington, NM again, alone with my young children, I shoveled snow and rescued our horse off the frozen river, and hiked down to town when the car wouldn't start and the phone was out. I enjoyed every bit of that but could not do it now.
That's why I love to hear what you see from your windows and your yard. Thanks for sharing and don't be lonely. We are all right here.
My father sold Star because he hated men. He was fine with women and children, but he would kick, bite and generaly misbehave as part of a team when men were handling him. I used to faint a lot as a kid, and once when riding Star I fainted and fell off. Star just stood there with his feet and body over my head until a neighbor came along and put me back on the horse. I loved that horse and have never seen another who looked anything like him.