Saturday, October 30, 2010

If you've ever loved a mule . . .

image from
If you've ever loved a mule, or if you've ever loved a horse—or a donkey, hinny, pony—or a zebra, I suppose—then you're in. You KNOW. You know and love that smell, our intoxicating fragrance (strongest and cleanest, by the way, in the little nook between our jowls). You know that our stools aren't icky; they're more akin to grass than dog $#!%, and no trouble at all when stepped in. You'll know that horse dirt underneath your fingernails isn't REALLY dirty, and you'll know that all that hay falling off your sweater during your morning meeting or professional symposium is merely a fond reminder . . . that the hair on your wool jacket is a medal of honor, earned through the noble work of grooming our itchiest places . . . that the clanging of our blanket hardware in the dryer during dinner is a worthwhile racket, and that a clean equine wardrobe is well worth the cost of a drowned-out conversation. You'll know that every vet bill, every feed bill, every trimmer bill, every board bill was a bill gladly paid, with money well spent. You'll know that, in the end, we're cheaper than therapy.

OK . . . better than therapy. Maybe not cheaper.

 If this sounds crazy, get thee to a barn! You have much to learn, and you're missing out on something big. Something profound. Something life changing. Something, or someone, special. Someone, perhaps, like me—Fenway Bartholomule.


  1. There is no such thing as a bad day when spent with your animals.

  2. I have gone to many a dinner with "dirty" nails. People are beginning to adjust to my eccentric ways.

  3. For my birthday, my wonderful husband gave me two coffee mugs. One side, a photo of my sweet mare's face. The other, "1300 lbs. of therapy."

    So true.

  4. So true, Fenway! My husband justified the purchase of my horse by saying, "It's cheaper than therapy!" Somehow I doubt that is actually true, but is is certainly BETTER.

  5. The secrets shared between the equine people and the equine are a beautiful and mysterious thing. This post made me tear up a little bit, remembering my days with my fat, half-blind grade mare who hated everyone including me. But I loved her, including her smells. :)

  6. Truer words have not been written, Fenway!


Thanks in Advance for Your Mulish Opinion!