One more visit and I’m naming him

I was just stepping into the shower yesterday when Rob came in and said, “You need to come see what is in the yard.”

I looked at him all huffy since I was watching the clock and didn’t have time for silly diversions. I’ve seen the deer. I’ve seen the coyotes. I’ve seen the rabbits. I’ve even seen the bobcat. Unless it’s a llama with a big red bow around its neck, I wasn’t going to be easily impressed.

“It’s a horse.”

I shut off the water, threw on a robe, and padded down to our breakfast nook. There, my cousins were sitting, eating fruit, silently looking out the window. Grazing on our back lawn near our cherry and apples trees was a brown horse who also would have been eating fruit if the season were right.

“Why is there a horse in our yard??” I asked as if our houseguests would have an answer.

“Oh, we thought you arranged it to give us the full country treatment!” my cousin answered with a smile.

The horse had a bridle on so we knew it was a “pet.” We devised a plan to literally corral the animal and post a notice on the stop sign at the bottom of our hill. It’s the unofficial bulletin board for the small community of houses around Woodhaven. “FOUND: Horse. Call xxx-xxxx”

Unfortunately, before I was able to round up a piece of cardboard and a Sharpie, the corralling ended up being more of revelation about which neighbor we needed to call (I thought the sign would be hysterical). Stalked by Rob and two kids wearing borrowed muck boots, the horse decided it was time to trot through what we have long thought was a fence and then down the hill to a neighbor’s property.

Fortunately for us -- this being the boonies -- not only did we know the names of the folks the horse was tagging as its owners, we also had their phone number from several interactions involving cows and a septic system (happily, two separate issues).

Rob was trying again to reach them this morning when I heard him say, “Well, no signs of a horse today. Oh…wait…I take that back. There he is again.”

As I left to go to the gym, I overheard Rob on the phone with the horse’s owner.

“Do you have a horse? Yes? Well, it seems the fence is broken and it’s up here near our fruit trees. Uh-huh. Well, you’d have to yell pretty loud – it’s up at the top of the hill. Okaaay…”

Sure enough, by the time Rob had located the camera for the picture I requested as I left the house, the horse had been summoned home. No doubt we’ll see him again before the fence is repaired, so stay tuned for a picture of the soon-to-be-named Mr. Ed.