Monday, March 10, 2014
Through the Corral Gate
Cherokee is a Bashkir Curly/Quarter Horse cross. His disposition is sweet, gentle, but with a little spunk. He can be stubborn, but is always available for a hug, ride and conversation. With his Bashkir Curly heritage, he is a good fit for our Midwestern US cold winters and hot summers. In the wintertime his coat is fuzzy and warm; in the summertime his coat is sleek and cool.
Recently I was in the hospital and unable to go to the barn for several weeks. It was towards the end of my recuperation period that I learned the true meaning of determination and love.
The sun had just come up and it was very early morning. A neighbor noticed that the 12 foot corral gate was down. Completely down. The red tubular metal could be seen lying in the patches of white snow. I was concerned how the heavy gate could have come down. Did someone leave the gate open? How did it come off the hinges? Where was Cherokee? My mind raced with a hundred different scenarios.
Immediately a trek to the barn to see what was up. What they found was astonishing and still a mystery. Cherokee was in the barn quietly munching hay, serenely content, and perhaps smiling a little. Around the barnyard were hoof prints leading to my house. At my house, the hoof prints continued to my bedroom window, stopped and returned back to the barn. Several manure piles were among the hoof prints, indicating that Cherokee had been out for several hours. He had somehow lifted the heavy eye bolt latch that secured the gate, thrust through the gate, knocking it off its hinges and onto the ground. The gate was bent, twisted, and battered. He was looking for me.
The gate was repositioned, tied with a rope, and the latch was secured. Cherokee was not hurt, just a small scratch on his nose, nothing serious. I suppose he used his nose to lift the eye bolt from the latch, and then trampled the gate.