Open Writing

A recent trip to the supermarket brought with it an unexpected adventure. We’d left home in the car and travelled a short distance down the lane which runs in front of our house.

To our amazement there was a horse blocking the lane. It was standing in the middle of the lane eating grass from the verge which ran parallel to it. Around the horse's neck was a rope, the frayed end of which clearly indicated that it had broken free.

In a field adjacent to the busily eating horse were two young calves, both a beautiful pale brown colour, with really cute faces. Also in the field was the other end of the horses’ rope, still tied to a tree.

As my wife Melanie has handled horses before, albeit in her teens, I suggested the neighbourly thing to do would be to take it back to the nearby farm. So she got out of the car and approached the horse.

Personally I think God slipped up with horses. Anything that large and powerful should surely have an on-and-off switch somewhere.

Just as Melanie grabbed hold of the frayed end of the rope the horse became startled. Firstly it jumped a little and moved down the lane further away from Melanie. Then without any warning, it awkwardly stumbled half through and half over a thicket, back into the field.

Whilst this was going on Melanie was still holding the other end of the rope and had been tugged one way, then the other. Just in time she’d let go of the rope before being dragged kicking and screaming through the thicket.

Thankfully the horse was now back in the field, but far from secure. There wasn’t even a gate at the entrance to the field. We decided to call at the farmhouse and inform them of the situation.

The gates at the entrance of the farmhouse were open so we walked in shouting to attract someone’s attention. With their three dogs barking it didn’t take long for the farmers’ wife to appear.

With the customary greetings over, Melanie went on to explain the problem with the horse. We hadn’t realised until this moment but the farmer and his wife didn’t speak Spanish. They only speak the local language,Gallego.

With a combination of sign language, limited Spanish, and very limited Gallego, we went on to explain.

“The horse in the field, it’s escaped”

“What horse?” she asked.

“The horse in the field with the two calves. It’s free!”

“It can’t be free” she replied.

“Yes, the rope holding it has broken and it’s free”.

“It’s free!” she stated

Finally we’d managed to get through to her.
“That’s right, it’s free and there is no gate on the field”.

“It’s not my horse”, she replied.

We stood for a few seconds, dumbstruck, said our goodbyes and returned to the car. By the time we’d sat down and closed the doors we were both bursting to laugh.

After all our efforts to firstly bring them the horse, then explain it’s plight. they didn’t even own it.

email address

craigandmel@msn.com
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