Headless horses

Headless, legless horses. That’s what fills the window panes looking out on our back pasture.

Three pot-bellied horses clustered in knee-high, hock-high stalks of green. Every so often a nose rises to whisk away the seedy tops of tall fescue but most of the time, their faces are hidden as they crop tuft after tuft of succulent clover.
It’s astonishing how quickly they’ve shed their winter coats and fattened up on spring growth — they’ve easily gained 50 pounds each. A few dapples have sprung on Chance’s ample rump and in the sunshine, the two chestnuts gleam like pennies. (*for the Huck update, see below).

Instead of bringing the horses in for feed, we lock them in at night to give their bellies a rest. Stall bound, they shun their hay and stand about, glassy eyed in grass comas. And wait for morning, and a new feeding frenzy to begin.

*Huck — who gets fat on air, and never met a meal he didn’t like — was shipped out before spring unleashed its green. He’s now residing at another farm where pasture isn’t so bountiful. There, he’s being ridden and has bonded with two goats named Vanilla and Butterscotch.