Fourth of July

Every Fourth of July I worry about the horses being startled by fireworks.  We live over the hill from town so we can’t see the city fireworks but we can hear them.  The sound always startles me, seems to start too early, while there is still light in the sky.  Tonight was no different.

I went out to do the usual evening rounds, and made a point of checking each horse in the pasture.  On my way out to check the mares, I glanced at the “mash unit,” a half-acre paddock where I’m keeping Dolly and the oldest rescued mare.  They need mash twice a day this time of year.  I didn’t look closely at those two because I would be coming back to feed them anyway.

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