According to the Horses – I Think My Horses Are Holding Staff Meetings
I’m becoming increasingly convinced my horses have a management committee. Not just the occasional “let’s all stand together and stare at nothing” kind of meeting. I’m talking full-on board meetings.
This morning I looked out the kitchen window and all three of them were standing in a perfect circle. Finn the Fjord. Prince the Friesian. And Pip… who is technically a miniature horse but clearly believes he’s the CEO.
Nobody was eating. Nobody was moving. They were just… standing there.
The second I opened the back door… They all stopped talking.
Don’t tell me horses don’t talk. I’ve seen the look. It’s the same look people get when someone walks into the break room halfway through the office gossip.
“Oh… good morning.”
“We definitely weren’t discussing you.”
Sure.
I walked out with hay.
Three seconds later, they were all standing in completely different places acting like they’d each been busy doing very important horse things.
Finn was calmly inspecting a fence post.
Prince had somehow arranged his mane to look even more majestic than usual.
Pip was standing on top of the little dirt mound again. Because of course he was. He likes to conduct important business from higher ground.
I fed everyone.
Finn quietly started eating.
Prince delicately selected only the nicest pieces as if he’d ordered the premium tasting menu.
Pip didn’t touch his. Instead, he walked over to Finn’s pile. Looked at it. Walked over to Prince’s pile. Looked at that too. Then marched back to his own hay with the unmistakable expression of… “Quality control complete.”
Five minutes later…
He was eating Finn’s breakfast. Finn didn’t even argue. He just sighed. You know that sigh your dad makes when he finds someone borrowed his favorite tool and didn’t put it back? That sigh.
Prince watched the entire thing without lifting his head. He has the attitude of someone who believes manual labor is for lesser beings. His job is simply to look magnificent. And to be fair… He’s excellent at it. A butterfly could fly past and he’d somehow make it look like part of a royal entrance.
Meanwhile, Pip is approximately one-third his size and absolutely convinced he could win in a wrestling match. I’ve watched him march straight up to Prince with all the confidence of a motivational speaker who’s never actually done the job.
Prince simply looks down at him. Very slowly. Very politely. As if to say… “You’re adorable.”
Finn usually ends the argument before it starts. Not by pinning ears. Not by kicking. He just gives both of them The Look. Apparently even horses know what The Look means.
Within seconds everybody remembers how to behave.
Honestly, Finn deserves retirement benefits. Sometimes I think he believes his official job title is “Barn Supervisor.”
I’m also fairly certain they’ve assigned me a position. I thought I owned the farm. Turns out I’m just Head of Catering.
My responsibilities include delivering breakfast on time, distributing treats without showing favoritism, opening gates upon request, scratching itchy spots, refilling water buckets, and being judged if I’m even thirty seconds late.
The performance reviews are brutal.
Show up with carrots? Excellent employee.
Show up empty-handed? Apparently I’m no longer meeting expectations.
At this point I’ve accepted reality. The horses run the place. Finn manages operations. Prince handles public relations. Pip is upper management despite having absolutely no qualifications whatsoever.
And me? I’m just lucky they haven’t started charging me board.
