Jerome Creek, 23 June 2005

Cast of Characters, Week 1

Ian: My husband of almost 4 years. He is currently sitting out by the pond on the park bench under a tree, playing his car accordion to the snakes and frogs. He leaves Saturday.

Olivia: Delicate black cat who is staying here while her owners are away. She leaves July 2^nd. The second night that she was entirely in my charge, I called her to the porch where her food and bed are (she prefers the freedom of the hayloft during the days), then, when she had almost arrived, inadvertently loosed the dogs, who, charming though they usually are, couldn’t resist the allure of a cat streaking away. She didn’t ever come back that night, and I worried about her, as well as feeling guilty for tricking her. “Here, kittykittykitty . . . now dogs—GET HER!”

Spackle: Ian’s and my dog, a chocolate lab, almost four years old. With his long-term hip issues and more recent ACL injury, he’s not as stable as our marriage. You’d think the sore legs would slow him down, but they don’t—not by choice. He’s getting used to staying home when we go on rides.

Kit: The resident dog. Kit is a 10-year-old Australian shepherd. He and Spackle are great friends, or, rather, are very comfortable companions. Neither is much given to dog-like roughhousing, but they do share space well. Kit is developing a bit of arthritis in his old age, so he’s been staying home from rides with Spackle. The two sleep virtually all day, so I don’t think they feel like they’re missing out.

And, of course, the horses.

One of the main reasons I love to housesit in Jerome Creek is that there are horses. Rather, I should say that I love to horsesit, because that’s really what it is. Of the three horses, Shadow has long been my favorite. She is a 20-year-old black Appaloosa, which means she’s not actually black at all, but rather spotted and roaned all over, with a white blanket on her rump. Even her lips are freckled. Her non-spotted parts are black, though, hence black. Shadow is the boss. She nips the other two horses and puts them in their places, several steps behind her. This sense of authority appeals to me, and, occasionally, offers a challenge. She’s opinionated, and while she does enjoy getting out for a ride around the area, she is initially loath to be separated from her herd. She has hardly any withers and a fairly slow metabolism, and as a result a nice round back, sometimes referred to as “The Sofa.” This makes her comfortable for bareback riding, which I like in part because the interaction with the horse is all the more immediate, and in part because it takes a fraction of the time to get the horse ready for riding. Shadow likes bareback as well—putting a saddle on a Sofa so that it won’t slip around involves an extreme tightness of girth, which is naturally not as comfortable as no girth at all. Another excellent trait of Shadow is her incorruptible sense of direction. More than once, she alone has gotten us home, sometimes by going the opposite direction from what I was expecting. And a couple times in the deep dusk.

The last two days, though, I’ve been riding Sikum, and definitely enjoying it. Sikum, too, is an Appaloosa, although of an overall pattern minus the blanket over the rump. He was purchased four years ago from the Nez Perce, and has been trained for riding since then. He’s only six, third on the pasture totem pole, but a sweet gelding who’s quickly responsive to cues and who can put on a surprising burst of speed in a second. He’s still easily startled by who knows what (although the last two days have been windy, which can make a lot of normal things sound strange), and has a wriggly flexibility to his gaits which makes trail riding a more active experience than it can be on The Sofa.

Toby, the middle mare, also 20, is a sweet chestnut Quarter horse. She is easy to catch (a nice trait when horses are pastured on 10 acres) and a dependable ride, although she tends to graze non-stop, during rides and not, which can be irritating if you’re trying to keep up with the other two.