4Shoes 'BOOKENDS'; Morgan Horses

4Shoes 'BOOKENDS'; Morgan Horses
“Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die, Life is a broken-winged bird, That cannot fly.” ~Langston Hughes *pictured: '4Shoes Bookends'

Tuesday, 23 January 2018

Excuse Me...

... but THIS has been happening lately. Hooves have been trimmed. Tails have been brushed out & rebraided. Blankets have been hung over a wall while we enjoy a spate of mild weather.
There has been much rolling in snow & very much happy snorting.
The horses have been doing the same.   

Wednesday, 17 January 2018

Morning Cuppa

What to do when there may be more than one shot left?
But probably not 2. 
Certainly not 3...
Not really worth even getting his hopes up.
Grab that empty XL Timmie's cup, upend the bottle, & drain the coffee pot.
Mr Shoes: "Is that called 'sharing', Honey?"
Mrs Shoes: "I just call it Wednesday, Sweetheart." 

Wednesday, 10 January 2018

Lost in Translation

Dad says eating chocolate could kill me.
Dad just wants to eat ALL of the puddins.

"It could kill her", says Dad.
"I'll risk it"
, says Mom.
Mom obviously loves me more than she loves Dad.
I love puddin. Mmmmm...

Thursday, 4 January 2018

Fashionista d'HiverI

Winters with our beloved nutter, Manic, are much as I remember mothering toddlers... I frequently ask her if she needs to potty & I watch her like a hawk because I know that she's waiting until the last minute to agree to go outside in this wretched cold snap of the last few weeks. 
Then it takes me 3 or 4 minutes to get her into her sweater & firmly velcro a heavier coat on over that, tie her adorable little hat snugly under her chin to keep her little ears from shattering like a glass bubble. It's a struggle to put her boots on as she protests non-stop. 
I finally have her all geared up & shove her out the door. She does a huge Spanish Walk, shaking each elevated foot dramatically in protest, but at last does get down to business. 
I wait at the door. There is no sense in sitting down, or in going to the restroom myself, because she will soon be back, shivering, bouncing above the level of the window sill, emphatically pointing out that she needs in. Now. please.

"I am just not made for this re-dicka-less weather!
 Can you all not see that God clearly did not mean for me to live on the God Forsaken Canadian winter Prairie?
It is -34*C (-29*F) outside in the middle of the day!
Don't even get me started on the windchill factor!
Well, at least I look fabulous while I freeze my toucas."