“Horsicles”, or “Oh Man, why art thou so hairless”

Navigating through a wintry mix over snow-packed roads made me a little smug today…

Brave.  Even with 4-wheel drive.

Determined. Even cocooned in the climatized, 86-degree truck cab.

Battling the elements. Until, I pulled up and saw the horsicles in the pasture. That’s right, frozen horses, strolling around oblivious to the frigid storm. I thought, OK it must just be a fluffy little layer of snow, how cute. And then I touched their ice-encrusted coats. Yikes. Thinking like a hairless human, I rushed to grab a curry comb to de-ice them, but still they were wet and cold.

Sitting inside I fretted, Why won’t they stay in the barn. I worried, while my pellet stove blasted me with heat. Should I insist and shut them in? An hour past, then two. Blankets? I gave into anxiety, pulled on my boots, and braved the night to make sure they hadn’t frozen solid.

Completely dry. Toasty warm. Biology, you amaze me. Thermostats have nothing on good-old-fashioned physiology.

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