Juanita and I were driving back up the mountain yesterday afternoon. The windshield wipers were on, clearing the "spring slush" that seems to fall out of the sky this time of year, when I looked up the hill off the highway and saw a bay horse. "There they are!" I hollered and pulled of the road.
I jumped out of the car and trudged up the hill to visit with the horses. Darn. Wrong hill. I clambered/skidded down the hill and trudged up the next hill. The magnificent seven (malevolent?) were grazing and wandered over to see if I had any treats. No such luck, we weren't planning on hiking in to see them, so we were empty handed. I headed over to see Juanita who was following a horse/game trail up the hill (No trudging involved for her. I need to try that sometime.) The horses all followed me over to her, probably in hopes that she wasn't as useless as I had proved to be. No luck there, either. No treats. We spent the next ten minutes or so picking ticks (looks like it's gunna be a bad one this year) and petting some very muddy horses. We headed back down the hill to the car and finished our drive home in the snow.
Good timing, guys. Twice in one year.