The Big Black Monster

It’s not easy to be married to someone who is horse crazy. Yesterday, in the pouring rain, Silk’s stall flooded. She was cowering in the one dry corner in the back, so my husband attempted to divert the water. I was in the house when I saw him with a huge roll of black plastic over by the side of the barn. I ran out because that black plastic set alarm bells off in my head. If I were a horse……

Silk was very glad to see me, and let me lead her to safety in Siete’s stall. My husband began mounting the huge sheet of plastic to the side of the barn with boards and a screw gun. The horses were quiet, but concerned. I started bailing the “poop soup” from the stall. I filled four big muck buckets with stinky brown liquid. I could hear the rain thundering on the plastic, which unnerved me since it was on the wall next to Silk’s feed bucket. As a final solution, my husband mounted another piece of the plastic to create a run-off funnel for the water that was pouring off the roof. More loud noises were added, but the water stopped coming into the stall. I insisted he put lots of big rocks on the plastic so it couldn’t blow and rustle too much.

I bought three bags of wood pellet horse bedding at the feed store and threw them down on the wet spots in Silk’s stall. So, now it was dry, but Siete was acting like someone had attacked her. She refused to come see me for hugs and kisses, so I knew she was really freaked out. Mother and daughter huddled together. At dinner time, I coaxed Silk back into her stall for the night. The rain had slowed down, but it was still making a rat-tat-tat on the plastic, especially in the funnel attachment. Around 8:30, I went out to check on the girls. Silk was cowering in the back of the stall and hadn’t eaten any of her hay or even touched her water. Last thing I needed was for someone to colic. I dismantled the funnel and rolled it up under a big rock so that at least part of the noise stopped. It was quiet with only an occasional rustle of plastic. I reassured Silk and Siete with lots of comforting words and neck scratchies. It was the best I could do for the moment.

This is the part where I reveal to you how insane I am. At 3 am, I woke up because the wind was whipping around outside my window. I began worrying about the Big Black Monster rattling next to Silk’s stall. I went downstairs and stuck my head out the back door. The wind roared and a tarp over our firewood blew wildly. I grabbed the flashlight and headed for the barn. Silk is my four-legged sister, and even though it was only 15F degrees, I had to see if she was okay. Both horses were sticking their heads out over the top of the Dutch doors. Silk was obviously relieved to see me. Her eyes were soft and grateful, not frightened. The wind wasn’t that bad, and the black plastic had so many rocks on it that it only made a slight noise. There was nothing I could do except be there to tell the horses that I wasn’t scared and they were okay. I kept thinking about the Mary Oliver quote. This was my one wild and precious life.

In the morning, I opened up the front doors so they could come out into the corral. Siete rushed over to the fence by the Black Monster and stood guard, protecting her mother. I could sense Silk was still uneasy, and I made my DH (Disgruntled Hubby) pull out the screws in the wall of the barn and roll up the plastic. He warned me that it would flood again with the next rain. We can’t really fix the problem until the ground thaws. The horses went out in the pasture. I cleaned both stalls and added fresh shavings. All is right in the world again. After lunch, Silk took a siesta and so did I.