A fearful nighttime search for Mama
Arriving home after dark one evening, I got out of my truck at the end of the driveway to pick up the mail. Something was wrong in the horse pasture. I heard horses whinnying and pounding around in their pasture in front of the house. Concerned, I pulled the truck up to the gate, so my headlights illuminated the field.
In addition to a few cows and calves on my hilltop, I have three horses, two mares (adult females), and one gelding (neutered male horse). Shiplay, the aging bay mare, is the mother of a big gelding, named Dandy. The other mare is Strawberry, a 10 year old Belgian, with feet as large as dinner plates.
Dandy and Strawberry pounded up and down the 200 yard length of the field, trumpeting their concern. However, no aged Shiplay was visible.
A wide variety of wild animals share the foothills with us, ranging from rabbits and squirrels, to the occasional black bear and mountain lion. The squirrels dig holes around the house and the rabbits nibble on our lawn. But the larger animals, more shy by nature, seldom interact with their human neighbors. Neither bear nor cougar are above killing a calf, but it’s not their preferred meal. However, both are carnivores so once in a while a recently-dead cow or calf, will attract them to come near for a free meal.
Horses have a great fear and dislike of bears, thus hating the odor of a nearby bruin. In years past, when I’ve spotted a bear as I rode across the foothills, my horse would be quite hesitant to take me any closer than necessary. Much snorting and blowing of nose always accompanied my horse’s resistance.
Much as we fear the demise of an aging parent, when you own older animals you’re forced to consider the end. Because of Shiplay’s age, when she was not with the other horses, my first thought was her final day had come.
My next thought was the poor old girl’s carcass was providing nutrition for a hungry bear. During winter the bears are often forced down from the mountains behind us. It seemed logical the bear’s scent was causing the snorting, puffing, and running of the two remaining horses.
When my headlight beams only revealed two horses running up and down an otherwise empty pasture, I knew this was going to take closer investigation. I parked my truck, then started my quad, turned on the headlights, and hurried through the gate. I poked into every corner and nook of the pasture where a deceased mare and multiple ravenous bears might be hiding.
I paused near the barn. I’d found no dead horse, nor insatiable bears. With thundering of hooves, snorting and blowing, Dandy and Strawberry raced up to me. Dandy whinnied stridently, then looked toward the hill.
“What’s the matter Dandy? Is your Momma out there somewhere?”
Poor old Shiplay. She must’ve fallen in a draw, couldn’t get to her feet and died, upside down and alone. I dreaded finding the carnage I might discover.
With a sigh, I slowly chugged out the north end of the pasture, headlights probing the slopes, rocks, and canyons of the hill. Dandy and Strawberry continued racing the length of the field.
For the next 10 minutes I searched in every possible place an old mare might lie down and die. I really didn’t want to find her.
I found nothing. No bears. No dead horse. Only the soft silence of the night.
Over the muttering of my quad engine, I heard Dandy and Strawberry continue to run and snort in the pasture. Where might the old girl be?
Puzzled, I stopped on a high spot and looked toward the two upset horses. Maybe, if I listened carefully, I could hear the bears as they tore her ancient body apart. I watched the other horses. Their fearful stares might point me to the awful scene. I turned off the quad to look, listen, and think.
When the headlights winked out, the silence of the darkness settled around me. The engine clicked as it cooled. Ahead of me, the two distressed horses continued their ruckus. They slid to a stop at the fence, snorting and whinnying, looking in my direction.
Shiplay must be lying around here somewhere close. They’re looking right at me. I peered carefully around the rocks and trees between us.
I held my breath, trying to squeeze any tiny amount of sound from the silence. In the blanket of darkness, I heard only the frightened horses and the slowly ticking engine.
Then something soft and warm bumped my left arm and shoulder. I nearly jumped over the handlebars of the quad.
I jerked my arm away and spun my head around. I stared into the gentle face of sweet Shiplay. Her soft, warm eyes reflected the distant light on my porch as she stared at me curiously.
Relieved, I laughed at my pounding heart as I patted her soft muzzle. “Well, old girl. It looks like the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated.”
I started the quad and chugged slowly around the hillside toward home. The aging mare, apparently grateful for the headlights to light her way, trotted beside me. As we approached the upper gate, the other two noisy horses rushed up to us, sliding to a stop at the opening.
Apparently, Shiplay hadn’t returned to the barn when darkness fell.
I suspect it was because her old, tired eyes made negotiating the hillside trail difficult. It was easier to stay on the hill.
Once back in the pasture, the old mare trotted up to the agitated pair. Sniffing and snuffling, each satisfying themselves all was well. Then, as if nothing had happened, all three horses turned and walked slowly toward the barn. Peace and contentment again filled the foothills.
She’d known perfectly well where she was on those familiar hillsides. She chose to ignore her noisy colt. All the running, snorting, and whinnying were apparently because Dandy couldn’t find his Mommy.