Living Rural

Teren and I were working with our horses this morning, she with Tsigilili, and I with Belle. Belle is the mom horse around here, and she's expressed an interest in getting out and about with other horses on the trail with her people. Because she doesn't yet have much in the steering and braking departments, I've started working bareback and reinless in the round pen. She's becoming more fluid, and is starting to "get it" and we're building more of a relationship between us.

After we were done, we strolled the half-mile down to the pasture they use a few days a week, south of a neighbor who has several horses, too. Teren stayed to fill up the water, and I started back to get the truck so it would be easier to get Tsigilili's tack back to the barn.

As I walked back up the road toward the neighbor's driveway, Chip and Checkers, a couple of big geldings, came down to the corner of their pasture to greet me. Chip is a massive bay, with a blaze shaped pretty much like Thor's hammer. Checkers is a dappled gray.

As I approached, Chip turned his head up the road to check traffic. As he did, he started and let out with a snort. Checkers turned to look, too, and so I followed their eyes and ears.

Less than fifty feet to Chip's north, there was a small buck, with buttons just starting up between his ears. He was peering down the road toward me, checking out this two-legged to make sure there wasn't much threat. The horses were obviously not worrying him in the slightest.

Chip, on the other hand, didn't think the interloper belonged in his field, and lowered his head and ears, walking toward the deer . . . who simply jogged up the hill and behind the trees . . . still inside the pasture.

Now the deer was up the hill behind the trees . . . next to the barn . . . where Chip and Checkers get their grain. That was too close to home for Chip, so he cantered up the field to run the critter off. Checkers, meanwhile, strolled up to the top corner of the field to see if his people might be coming out to help.

The buck jogged down the hill between the two guys, and strolled up to the fence to have a closer look at me. Deciding the threat on this end was non-existent, he watched the horses. Chip wandered over to consult with Checkers, casting the occasional dirty look in the general direction of the intruder.

The two of them jogged down the hill, so the deer headed back up to the barnyard. This was too much for Chip, so he charged diagonally across the pasture and up the hill, which sent the buck racing around the field . . . not out, but enjoying the chase!

The deer headed up the hill toward the southeast corner, with Chip in hot pursuit. Somewhere along the line, a thought passed between Chip and Checkers, and Checkers headed up along the southern fenceline to intercept the deer at the top of the hill. They were perhaps expecting the deer would exit over the fence at the corner.

Instead, the little buck kicked in the afterburner up the hill, pulling a high-G turn at the top around between a tree and the fence at about the same time Checkers was arriving at the same place from the other direction. Checkers saw the deer cranking the corner and about climbed out of his skin . . . going up in the air and coming down running in the opposite direction, with almost 100 pounds of racing deer now hard on his heels.

Chip stopped at the top to watch . . . clearly perplexed at this turn of events.

Checkers maintained a slight lead down to the bottom of the hill, where he pulled hard right and back up the hill. The deer maintained heading and slowed to a head-high prance to the north fenceline.

Checkers ended up hiding behind Chip, peeking over Chip's back at the deer, now strolling quietly along the fenceline, without a care in the world.

Chip and Checkers slowly gathered their dignity together, then relaxed . . . body language congratulating each other on a job well done . . . and, "Didn't we show him!"

As I moved on down the road to get the truck, the little buck scrambled over the fence and kept pace ahead of me until he turned off on another driveway, in search of roses, no doubt.

I live out here in rural Jefferson County for moments like these. When a bird flies in the house, I catch them in my hands and take them back out so they can get back to their own homes. We've become a part of the landscape in which we live, and we take pride in caring for our place in it. There are some things that you just can't experience in town, and more often than not, they are things that build our knowledge of and wisdom about the many natural gifts we have.

It's Independence Day . . . the day we celebrate our separation from King George III and a Parliament where we had no voice. It's wonderful to live in a nation where we are allowed to have a voice in how we are governed, and in a time when we are able to participate in that governance if we wish.

There's no substitute.