Time to Fix the Fences

I work from home and have an office with a view towards the valleys and mountains looking to the west of my home.  Several weeks ago, I was working and noticed one of my horses walking across the front lawn.  I stood up, walked over to the window and watched the remaining four walk through the opening in the fence and they began to graze just outside of my window.  Oh did they look happy!

I then realized my fences weren't as strong as they appeared.  The fence is made up of several 8 foot posts buried three feet deep around the property and each of the posts has hog panels fastened to them, separated by approximately 10 feet.  I'm learning these posts are not treated and are rotting in the ground.  Each time a horse decides to rub his rump on the fence post, the fences are falling over.

I was the only one home and realized I was in a pickle.  I would have to round up each of these horses on my own.  I quickly threw on my boots and went out the back door and grabbed a lunge whip, a lariat, a few halters and lead ropes.  As soon as I walked around the corner of the house, the horses saw me and quickly assessed my intentions.  They took off running.

I ran back into the house, grabbed the keys to the four-wheeler and went chasing after them at a high speed.  I caught up to them and watched them turn right and run into the alfalfa fields.  They were overjoyed.  They all started grazing while keeping a sharp eye on me.  I slowly approached in a wide arc in an attempt to keep them from running farther away from home.  Once again, the chase resumed.  They ran past the house and into a neighbor's yard.  I stopped the bike and walked back to where they were...and away they went again.  Running right past me, each of them turning their heads, smiling and laughing at me as they went by.  One of them called me names and chanted, "neener neener neener!"  I waved a fist at them and yelled back, "THIS IS NOT OVER!"

Onto the bike I went.  Once again at top speed, chasing them into another alfalfa field.  My bike chewed up the field leaving my tracks in its wake.  I'm new to the area.  What a great way to introduce myself to the farmer who owns these pastures! I would worry about that later.  I was on a mission.

All I had to do was catch one and I knew the others would follow.

There I was, on a four-wheeler at top speed swinging a lariat over my head.  I was attracting an audience.  There is rarely traffic on our roads, until that day.  Cars were slowing down to watch.  I could see phone cameras being drawn from holsters and at the ready.  Others were on their phones telling others to come watch.  Popcorn was popping in microwaves in homes nearby and lawn chairs were being setup all throughout the neighborhood to watch my attempt at throwing a lasso over a mini-horse.

One throw...miss!  Another throw...miss!  Another throw...caught a mailbox!  The horses and neighbors laughed.  I could even hear the goats back home laughing.

This routine continued.  To the north of my home, past my home, to the south of my home, past my home, to the north of my home...

Eventually, the horses lost interest and walked home.  They opened the gate, put themselves back into the pasture where they belonged and latched the gate.  The mini horses put on coveralls and mended the fences themselves.

The neighbors casually put away their folding chairs and cell phones and asked me how often I put on a show.  I encouraged them to come again next week.