This is the text I woke up to Sunday morning:
Ok…that’s interesting, but how?
Let me back up a bit and explain this.
Saturday afternoon we finally tackled the back pasture. Currently the right half is included in the large pasture that runs along the barn, arena and up the driveway. The left side is the smallest on the property and has been used as our sacrifice pasture with all the rain since it has a shelter and a lot of trees.
I wanted to remove the cross fencing and block off the access to the large pasture to make this all one back pasture that could house the horses for 4-6 weeks allowing the other two a longer break during pasture rotation.
Dusty worked to close off the bottom by the pond as well as the opening to the larger pasture while I took down the cross fencing and the horses ate dinner inside the barn.
We didn’t have time to pull the t posts but I figured our horses are sensible beasts and wouldn’t kill themselves overnight on t posts.
I was partially correct.
Best we can figure Doofaloosa went galloping about in glee at his large enclosure and remembered from last summer that this pasture opened into the large one. For some reason all the knee high green grass under his hooves wasn’t good enough and off he went.
Except the opening was no longer open.
The hoof print shows that he tried to stop but the ground is so saturated he slid instead and barreled through the newly strung fence.
This is also why I love having my entire property safely fenced in. Even when something dumb happens, there is no where for them to go.
Since they weren’t out in that pasture, I had been leaving the arena gate open. It’s old. It’s rusty. It’s half off the hinges and a royal PITA to open and close. Why on earth they decided that all the green grass in the now 15 acre pasture was not good enough and they needed to be inside the mostly dirt arena is beyond my reasoning.
But there they were bright and early Sunday morning looking for breakfast.
In the words of Dusty “He isn’t bad enough to get rid of but damn is he annoying.”
Yup. Just about sums up my lovable, huggable Doofaloosa.
Keep being you buddy.