This past summer, Alyssia, the barn manager took possession of a new ewe, and asked me to check in on her the day after her arrival to ensure she was making out okay. Not a problem, Lindsay and I were having a mother/daughter day, so drove up at lunch time, not expecting to stay long. Were we in for a surprise. As we entered the driveway, I wondered aloud why Alyssia had moved more ponies to the front paddock, as it looked a little crowded. As we drew closer I clued in that the ponies were actually out of their enclosures and roaming the courtyard. Lindsay went to investigate while I attempted to reach Alyssia. As I look up, I glimpse Lindsay with a panic stricken look on her face, gesturing wildly towards the barn. By the time I make it to the gate, I noticed the full extent of our problem. It wasn't just the ponies that were loose, but the rest of the herd were hiding out in the barn. It would appear they had opened a gate, tracked across the manure pile and made their way stealthily through the back doors of the barn. I dash off a frantic text to Alyssia - "Help. All horses are in courtyard". I'm not even sure if she will receive my frantic missive, as reception at the barn is intermittent at best.
We quickly deduce that one of us has to go and close the gate, and we gaze at each other in dismay. To reach the gate we have to traverse two very muddy paddocks and we are both wearing flip-flops. I know, not ideal footwear for the barn, but we hadn't exactly planned on a rodeo roundup. Rank has it's privileges and Lindsay reluctantly dons Rob's rubber boots - which dwarf her - and gamely makes her way across the fields to shut the gate. I meanwhile start to round up the horses, none of which want to go anywhere, so I quickly give up on that and start taking pictures instead, much to Lindsay's disapproval. Hey, if we're going to die there, trampled by a stampeding herd of horses, I want to leave photographic evidence. Maybe I can see where my son gets his flair for the dramatic.
Lindsay is making some progress with the ponies, so I grab a lead rope and join in the fray, trying very hard not to get stepped on. One by one we lead the horse through the main gate back to the paddock. We had been at this for several minutes, before something dawned on me. I don't know all of Alyssia's horses - there is at least 20 of them - but I was pretty sure she didn't have several sets of twins. I turned to speak to Lindsay, but she had come to the same conclusion and that is when we discovered that in addition to opening the gate they had also knocked down a section of the fence. I say "they" but it's a pretty safe bet it was our horse that did it. She is the biggest one there, and has been known to take select members of the herd on walkabout on several previous occasions.
So, it would appear, that while Lindsay and I were busy funneling the conniving beasts (no offense Alyssia, lovely horses really, they are) through the gate, unbeknownst to us, they were circling around and re-entering the barn through the back doors. Where upon we'd lead them back out into the paddock. With so many milling about, we hadn't noticed that the numbers weren't decreasing. I'm sure they thought that getting one over on us stupid humans was hilarious.
Again, I pull rank and Lindsay sets off to shore up the fence. I really should have gone to her aid, especially when I hear her distraught cry of "Mummmmmy" as the ponies jostle her for position at the gap in the fence. But, there was no way I was going in that paddock armed with only a pair of flip-flops.
It took a while, but we succeeded in getting everyone settled back in the paddock and then turned our attention to the barn. OMG it looked like the aftermath of a Frat house party. All that was missing was a keg of beer. The cushions were off the couch, and the couch itself was pushed out from the wall. Bridles and tack were tossed with gay abandon. Garbage, buckets, bowls and an emptied bottle of mineral oil (ugh), strewn from one end of the barn to the other, together with that other stuff you'd expect to find around horses, and me still in my flip-flops as we gingerly clean up the destruction. This is one mother/daughter day we won't forget.
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