An Assumption Fortunately Affirmed

I got a ride in, but it wasn’t the one I’d intended.  The weather had slightly improved, so I was looking forward to reuniting with my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose. The mares didn’t come in, though, and I needed them in so I could tease and be able to plan my breeding season.  So instead of a ride on Rose, my priority was finding the mares out on the hill and bringing them in.

While the weather was improved, as in slightly warmer, the wind had started to pick up again.  The day before had been really unpleasant, with ice crystals driven so hard that they hurt my face when they impacted.  I realized as I went looking for the mares that they were showing sense by being holed up somewhere out of the wind.  And that made me realize the assumption I had made when I moved here, an assumption fortunately affirmed.

We all were in Colorado together for many years, so the places that we spent time were well known to all of us and therefore the ponies knew how to get out of the weather when they needed to.  When I moved, I assumed the ponies would figure out the same thing here, that they would move to get out of wind or heavy snow or sun.  Behind that assumption, though, was another assumption, that they would explore their new place and remember where the best places to go were when they needed them.

I did what I could to help them learn our new place after we arrived, walking them entirely around their hill pasture and showing them where their sheds with minerals were and where water is.  What I didn’t do, I now realized, was take them to likely protected spots when the weather turned.  I had assumed they would return to those spots on their own.  Fortunately for me, (or I would have felt really guilty!), they did seek out those protected spots, like they had on this morning, on their own.  I couldn’t really blame them for not being at the barn when I was ready to start chores because they would have had to stand out in the wind awaiting my arrival.

As I rode the head mare Bowthorne Matty towards the barn with the rest of the herd following, I pondered whether all equines would have figured out where to seek shelter from weather after moving to a new place like we had.  Then I remember a gelding I had once who stood out in a hail storm, trying to tuck his legs under his body and hunching against the maelstrom, instead of seeking shelter in his shed.  I went out into the storm and led him to his shelter, where he stayed and seemed sheepishly thankful.  That memory made me even more thankful for my Fell Ponies whose natural instincts are endlessly fascinating to watch and learn from.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

You can find more stories like this one about my life with my Fell Ponies in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.