Dusk Is When You Start To Worry

Yesterday evening Lisa and I grabbed some blankets and sat out on the back deck, just as the sun was dropping over the western foothills. There were some large cloud formations overhead but there were signs that the night itself would be clear.

I had given Claire and Honey their last meal of the day in their large rubber dishes out by the barn. I made sure that the barn heaters were on (low) and that the latest daily deposits of shit were out of the stall area, so when Honey went in later on she could lie down in the muffin free wood shavings.

I see some of the purebreds in the area already in light coats most mornings but I really try to hold off with the mules until we get sustained stretches of below 40 days and nights, because I want their winter coats to come in fully. Since some of our recent days have risen back into the 70s, I’m comfortable with that decision.

When it comes to their evening meal, Claire is usually waiting for me at the back door and follows me back to the barn, where Honey waits patiently by the bowls. Once their meals are distributed, I exit the side gate and close and lock it, because if I don’t lock it, Claire can bang at it until the catch pops open and then the gate pops open.

I wouldn’t mind leaving the gate open all night, but if I did, Claire would come by and start banging at the back door at all hours looking to extort a snack. I don’t blame her. Why not shake the candy machine to see if something drops down. But Lisa would kill me.

After the mules eat dinner they retreat to the back of the property for some sunset grazing. If it isn’t too cold, they’ll hang out all night in the darkness together. Honey may lie down in the field but Claire always stays on her feet, vigilant in the darkness.

If it does get cold, Honey retreats to the stall’s wood shavings and Claire will follow her and stand just inside the barn doorway. There is a bright light on the West side of the barn, more so I don’t trip over something at night. But it creates a pool of light that predators tend to avoid and into which the mules can enter should they feel the need. The barn has front and back lights as well, but I usually just rely on the glow of the heaters to offer some visibility, like a night light, while also allowing them to sleep.

Last night there was a Waxing Moon steadily approaching full this Saturday, so the ambient light made it a little less challenging.

But the mules like to stay outside the security light, so I don’t know where they are until I see their lumbering shadows approach in the darkness.

Despite all of my preparations and precautions, I still worry about Claire and Honey from dusk to dawn.

That is when all of the McCaffrey fur members choose to cross the veil.

The night Mr. Rogers passed, I fed him his dinner, gave him a hug and when I woke up next morning I found him next to the pond with Claire standing over him, distraught.

My smaller fur family members have all crossed at night as well. The veil must be thinnest during the night hours. Now that I think about it, most of my human family have passed at night as well.

During the daylight hours, I am constantly glancing out windows, checking to see what everyone is up to.

Yesterday, for example, I looked up out of my side office window when a large shadow suddenly interfered with the ambient light. It was Claire coming down off the side hill where she had been grazing. Unfortunately, as she descended, the hose that she had stepped over on the way up caught across her front legs and as she proceeded rose to chest level.

(I must clean that screen).

Now I have just spent a lot of money getting that particular outdoor spigot replaced, as that is the line that I use to replenish and refill the large troughs by the barn.

Claire was steadily moving like Godzilla without a care in the world and I knew that if I didn’t stop her, at some point that spigot was coming out of the wall.

Luckily Claire responded to Lisa’s frantic screams – she happened to be out on the back deck just as Claire emerged from that far side of the house – and halted just as the rubber hose had wedged on the top of the fence post and had reached maximum Bowflex extension. Something was about to give.

Disaster was averted as I loosened the hose and dropped it to the floor, allowing Claire to step over it and go on her merry way.

If that had happened at night, who knows how that story would have ended.

So I start to worry at dusk, and like all good caretakers, don’t stop worrying until I see everyone is alive and well the next day.

Well, here we are and I pray all five of your fine readers have made it to the dawn.

Have your cuppa Joe and head out there and attack the hump.

You got this.

I’m off to cuddle a kitty, and do my rounds.

Make sure everyone along the way has made it through the night.

And now that’s we have the day before us once again, let’s make it a great one.