I got a question I been ponderin for some time now: Why do the County Island people sometimes toss their own stall-beddin up into the trees?
I know – it sounds like nonsense, don’t it? But they do. And they think we got strange stall habits. And then they get mad at us horses for simply buryin our piles deep in the shavins when they keep us in jail-stalls so we’re less likely to step in ‘em, because, frankly, who would want to do that, or get mad at us for doin even more logical things like peein on our own hay to keep other horses from eatin it.
Sometimes I see what looks to be long rolls of white and wavy stuff hangin high up in the palo verdes that grow in front of the people’s ranches, but I ain’t never paid much attention to it other than to turn a wise eyes toward it so as to acknowledge it, like sayin, “Well now, that ain’t right.” I wouldn’t have believed it could ever be people stall-beddin, myself, except the old stallion who lives across the road told me he has seen it happen with his own eyes – seen the younger people tossin their T.P., which is what people use for shavins, up into the trees in the dead of night and gettin all stupid and giggly in the way that young people, and 2-year-old colts and fillies, often do, and chatterin all about “T.P.ing.” And as he is a right reputable old stud, in spite of bein an Ayrab horse, I tend to believe him.
So I can go along with the notion that there’s lawless bands of youngsters roamin the County Island at night tossin T.P. into the trees, along with all the other unmentionable things that sometimes walk the County Island at night. But the why of it still escapes me.
Still, I told the Coors brothers about it, and they think it’s downright hilarious. I should’ve reckoned they would.
But ya know, the more I ponder it, I guess the more I can see the appeal, if not the purpose. Sometimes, it can be downright satisfyin to do somethin a bit ridiculous and undignified, like pretend to spook at somethin you know you danged well ain’t spooked of, just because a horse can. Or hang your own bucket upisde down on the fence post, because you can. Or take the sweaty saddle pad that was dryin in the sun on the fence and dunk it in the water tub, because you can. Or pull Coors Light’s tail, because you can. OK, that last one is usually him doin it to me, but still.
But I guess I never reckoned people had much of a sense of humor before. They seem mostly humorless to me, especially as regards us horses. I’m glad to know they can be funny, too. Now if only they’d lighten up when we try to be funny.
And in the meantime, I asked Coors Light, who does have kind of knack for advanced arithmetic, like all the geometry he knows for prancin in circles, to kind calculate-like what we could possibly put up in some trees, and what we’d need to get it up there. This could likely take us a while, but we’re workin on it.