Well, I give up on having normal days...shortly after photographing this rather bucolic scene on Broadstone Rd., I found Old Red dead. Yep. There I was, minding someone else's business (it is my job afterall) and I saw a pile of red fur peacefully basking in the sun just to the right of the above scene. Now, I'm not just any old dumb hillbilly. I know that horses like to rest their weary bones the same way people do. But this horse was a little bit too still for my liking. I had to crunch through briars to get a closer look see. I regarded no movement in the horse's ribcage. I clicked my tongue several times and stomped the ground and asked of the horse,
"Hey Red, you alive?"
No answer.
I knew Old Red was probably dead, but I wasn't gonna trespass just to take his pulse.
Since I know the owner, I decided to go to his place and break the news.
I knocked on the door and K.W. was pleased to see me.
"Howareya?" he asked.
"Fine," I replied. "But I think that Old Red is down."
Obviously I lack the social skills to break bad news subtly.
K.W. looked at me like I was some dumb person from off the mountain.
"Awww, I was just out there 45 minutes ago and they was all fine," he said adding, " Some people don't know that horses like to sleep on the ground."
I said, "Maybe I am wrong, and I hope so, but I looked at Red and he didn't look so good."
"Oh, it's Red?" he asked, "I've been thinking he was gonna die soon. I hope he isn't close too the road."
"He is," I replied.
So we took over to the field and he walked over to Red and sure 'nuf, K.W. did the old cowboy-boot-on the-snout test while asking,
"Hey Red, you dead?"
Red didn't answer K.W either.
"Awww shoot, Red's dead. They sure don't make ponies like Red anymore. I reckon I need to go borrow a backhoe, " said K.W.
Then K.W. said, " I wish he hadn't died so close to the road, now everyone's gonna stop by and ask me if I know that my horse is dead until I get him buried."
"Put a sign on him that says that you know that Red is Dead, " I suggested.
"Hey, that's a good idea," K.W. said.
I didn't stick around long enough to see if he followed through with my suggestion....
(Note: K.W. loves horses and he rescues horses from really bad situations. Additionally he takes in older horses that people no longer can ride and lovingly nurses them through old age. Red was one of these lucky horses. Any lack of tears on K.W.'s part is just part of the matter-of-fact way that country folk deal with life and death.)
