Two horses — one smallish one the color of overpriced suede, with a dark mane and tail, and one big, tall one the same shade of red as an Irish setter — are tethered to a trailer parked next to the Tumbleweed this evening. Their owners, a young couple from Davenport, Okla., are moving to a piece of property they own somewhere around Parks, Ariz., and called a couple of weeks ago to let me know they were coming and ask if I’d mind letting their horses graze on my property.

Our four-legged guests are pretty, but I’m keeping my distance, lest I get kicked or bitten. Grant, who basically put himself through college on the money he made working at a dude ranch every summer, says I don’t need to be afraid of the horses, as they are geldings and thus should be very docile and predictable, but I tend to think it’s a bad idea to get too close to a strange animal that outweighs you by several hundred pounds. Call it a quirk.

Harvey apparently agrees with me, because he refuses to go anywhere near the west side of the property as long as the horses are out there….

— Sierra


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