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<\/p>\nWe interrupt this blog to bring you a few new friends at Orchard House. And to give me a break from painful thinking.<\/p>\n
First new friend is Scrumpy:<\/p>\n
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Scrumpy has been a mere acquaintance of Orchard House residents, but now I consider her a personal friend. I (for lack of a better word) won<\/em> her friendship through food, as I don\u2019t have any special horse whispering skills. I\u2019ve never understood animal whispering skills. Seems to me if you have some food and more food and a little more food, then throw in some common sense and treat creatures with respect, they will automatically befriend you. At least that\u2019s my experience with animals commonly known for their ability to live near humans. Animals.<\/em> Not spiders, snakes, mice, and other creepy-gross creatures that probably have some important function on earth that I am blind to.<\/p>\n I digress. So back to Scrumpy.<\/p>\n Clearly, she\u2019s a horse. And though you can\u2019t tell from the picture, she a scrawny horse. There are a few legit reasons for her fragility, which I\u2019ve discussed with her owner and which don\u2019t need to be discussed here. But suffice it to say, she needs a little nutritional help. When I saw her for the first time after the long winter, we mirrored one another. I pitied the poor thing. But what could I, a lowly, scrawny neighbor living on a few partly fenced acres do for her? I have my own health struggles. I, too, am weaker than normal. I, too, have gone through an illness that has left me weary and boney.<\/p>\n It was this weariness, I think, that drew us together. We were both loners wandering our fields, minding our own business when our eyes met. They had met before, in past seasons. But this was different. I was terribly wind-blown at the time. Her mane was scraggly, too, like you\u2019d expect from a wild horse. She stared at me with big, brown eyes. I stared back at her with big, brown eyes. Neither of us were trusting. But both of us were\u00a0open to trusting<\/em>. We continued our stare down. She came closer and I followed suit. I didn\u2019t have anything to offer and neither did she, except a hand and a nose, respectively. Over the fence came the nose, and over the fence came my hand. The connection was made. Hearts became less fearful. The \u201cdamage\u201d was done. A scrawny, weak horse and a scrawny, weak human connected without necessarily seeking out a connection.<\/p>\n Sometimes friendships just happen \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n I stayed a few minutes. Petted her mangy mane. She put up with it for a short time, then sneezed a sneeze that made me want to run into Orchard House and cuddle with my mother and a soft blankie.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t do that!\u201d I yelled and broke into laughter. \u201cI thought you were going to eat me alive!\u201d<\/p>\n She seemed rather pleased with herself, and then the only thing left to do was look at each other awkwardly, as if to ask, now what?<\/em> It was as if God sent a scrawny friend to a scrawny friend with no explanation. I mentally shrugged and she looked to the side and snorted. Neither of us knew what the next right step in our relationship might be.<\/p>\n Then I remembered the carrots. Or, the carrot pulp and peels, I should say. I\u2019d been pitching them into the compost pile every day after my daily carrot juicing. But, duh.<\/em> If carrots were helping a scrawny human feel better, why wouldn\u2019t they help a scrawny horse feel better?<\/p>\n The carrots are the tie that binds us. Every morning now, with the permission of Scrumpy\u2019s owner, I dump my carrot scraps over the fence. I\u2019ve also taken to giving her a few grass clippings, and an apple here or there. Then in the evening, I\u2019ll go out and say hey again. Cut and feed her some more grass. Visit another spell. She\u2019s been responding by hanging out near the fence line that separates Orchard House from \u2026. whatever the owner calls his place. If I\u2019m out digging around in the flower beds, she\u2019ll come close and hover around the spot where I always dump her sweeties. She\u2019s allowing me to pet her for longer and longer periods. She likes me to say a few words while I scratch her neck, but prefers I wait to pet, scratch, or run my fingers through her mane until she\u2019s done eating.<\/p>\n First things first, Scrawny Carrot Lady.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n I still don\u2019t know how to horse whisper. Or maybe I do, if horse whispering is nothing more than having compassion on whom compassion is needed. Maybe whispering is simply the ability to sense a need, having an instinct as to what that need is, and meeting that need. I\u2019m doing that, and it brings me joy.<\/p>\n But apparently not enough joy, because after Scrumpy\u2019s owner told me he was not open to getting rid of her, I went straight to the neighbor\u2019s house and adopted two baby bunnies!!<\/p>\n Meet our second and third new friends, Calvin and Hops:<\/p>\n Clearly, as of late, the mothering instinct in me has been loud. Very loud. I mean, it always has been. But it\u2019s been especially cacophonous lately, like a clanging cymbal that desperately needs to be quieted before it drives me cuckoo. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s causing it. I mother my mother. My kids. My grandkids. Hopefully not my husband. But when Spring hit?\u00a0Bam!<\/em> I automatically needed baby goats and horses and donkeys and chicks and whatever anyone will give me that\u2019s needy and just needs some food and love but zero nocturnal care. Thankfully, we\u2019ve got two grand babies coming \u2013 one in September, one in October \u2013 which seems so very far away when the cacophone cacophones so cacophonously. And the lovely thing about grandkids is that even when you mother them, you turn right around when the moon comes up, crawl in bed, and get a good night\u2019s sleep. But even though I have four out-of-the-womb grandkids to grandmother, I clearly need a couple more somethings to mother. Hence, Calvin and Hops. And Scrumpy. Between the three of them, my kids, my mom, and my grandkids, my mothering itch is being sufficiently scratched.<\/p>\n The question is: how long will the itch feel scratched? Mwa. Ha. Ha.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n I leave you with a photo of my Floridian friend, Christina, me, and Calvin and Hops. Also a picture of me on Mother\u2019s Day with all three of my silly human babies \u2013 and Hops!<\/p>\n Until Thursday \u2026. toodle-oo.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We interrupt this blog to bring you a few new friends at Orchard House. And to give me a break from painful thinking. First new friend is Scrumpy: Scrumpy has been a mere acquaintance of Orchard House residents, but now I consider her a personal friend. I (for lack of a better word) won her […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2920,"featured_media":1083,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[134,132,21,76,102,131,133],"class_list":["post-1080","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-animals","tag-bunnies","tag-chronic-illness","tag-friendship","tag-hobby-farming","tag-horses","tag-pets"],"yoast_head":"\n![\"FullSizeRender-7\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/757\/2017\/05\/FullSizeRender-7-225x300.jpg\")
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\nOh, and one of Calvin looking disgusted while Hops hops in their food bowl.<\/p>\n![\"FullSizeRender-5\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/757\/2017\/05\/FullSizeRender-5-225x300.jpg\")
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