Monday, March 16, 2009

ADOPT A ROADRUNNER


My horses need to be fed separately. Mama Sally will starve herself to death in order to allow pretty-boy Najale stuff his pretty face with every single bit of hay, grain, carrots... actually, no, she does fight him over the carrots.

But I put Sally into the corral twice a day and feed her there, and Najale stays in the pasture and get fed. That way she doesn't lose any more weight, and Najale doesn't gain any.


And when I use the word 'pasture', please don't allow your mind to insert a grandiose lush, green field in Kentucky with sleek thoroughbreds grazing in comfort.

We are talking southern Arizona pasture, which in my backyard is sandy soil, thorny mesquite trees (which the horses cut themselves on by using as an au natural backscratcher), and extremely sturdy (and green only during monsoons) scrub grass.

They stay separated for about two hours, or at least until Sally finishes off the majority of her meal (Najale eats like I do; scarfs it down in about fifteen minutes, which for a horse is FAST).

But Sally now has a new friend who eats with her.

I thought the first couple of times it was just coincidence that there was a roadrunner in the corral with her, but it's been over a week now.

And until I began searching for photos for this particular blog did I realize that some people do NOT see roadrunners every single day of the year. A lot of individuals in the United States do not have to swerve multiple times driving home to avoid roadrunners running racing in front of their car.
So here is YOUR part; let's name this roadrunner.
First place will receive a personalized photograph (can't promise he will sign it - we'll try) and something roadrunner related - I have no idea yet, but I'm certain the state of Arizona will have some trashy little souvenir that you will just LOVE to toss into your junk drawer.
Deadline for this contest is.... well, until I get an entry I like.
DISCLAIMER: This contest is totally and completely biased, unfair and subject to any fit of whimsy that I feel ready to deal by. No promises, no contracts, no big names involved... other than the roadrunner's name.
Let us begin.

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