Yes, the number of horses keeps changing depending on what part of the story I’m telling ;). I’m not sure how many it is. Somewhere between 15-18, including the mules [which apparently keep the wolves away].
Me, four kids [girls ages 11, 9 and 7 and a boy age 5], horses, and a bunch of apples and carrots.
I want to be quite clear.
I was never scared.
Let me repeat that.
I WAS NEVER SCARED.
Concerned? Sure. Wary? You betcha. Exceptionally respectful of animals that weigh, literally, thirty times more than my two younger kids? Absolutely.
But never scared.
And neither were the kids*.
Horses are big. Really big. Especially when you’re little. Two of my kids especially are fairly small and we’re not really horse people, so I was… a bit concerned when my [very much on the small side for her age] 7yo kind of got separated from me. Not very far, but far enough with two horse heads between us. 😉 She got back to my side, the Walmart bags of food between my feet and my arms around my kids, like a mother hen.
I told the kids over and over, in my best calm-while-there’s-a-spider-crawling-on-you voice. “They’re not going to hurt us. We’re going to remain calm and quiet and still. We’ll wait for them to go away. They’re just curious, but they won’t hurt us.”
Even as one, particularly big [at least to me] horse stood right behind me, nose in my hair, sniffling at the kids, and cheek to cheek with my five-year-old.
And still… Not. Scared.
Tomorrow – Angels Watchin’ Over Me.