It’s getting back down that’s a pain in the ass.
Yah, keep your “big sky country,” Montana. My sky’s plenty big.
There are two ways to get here: The short, rocky, nearly vertical way and the long round-about way. I tend to take the long way up and the short way down.
I always feel kind of bad for horses around here. There’s no grazing to speak of in the poorly-named “pasture” within 20 minutes of the introduction of a horse, and there’s nothing to do but stand around and develop emotional pathologies. Don’t even know if T&S ride these anymore: They both got thrown and injured in quick succession a few years ago and since then I haven’t heard any riding stories. Horses still need to be fed and watered, though.
I took the short way down off the plateau both because it’s the short way and because that way dumps me out right near Landlady’s and S&L’s places. Tend chickens, tend Ghost.
After feeding him and cleaning up one little mess he left me, I pretty much herded him out the door to finish his business. But he insisted on taking the dog food can with him, and then all he wanted to do was lay down in the shade and work on the can.
He always was willful, and age hasn’t made him any less obstinate. So finally I gave up and led him back in out of the sun. He went along with that willingly enough – as long as he could bring the can.
