HEY, JO... I MEAN, RACHAEL... I MEAN, SALLY....

Probably everyone has called someone by the wrong name.

It can get sticky - you call your husband by an old boyfriend's name - use your dog's name instead of your mother-in-law's - it can be awkward to say the least.

My mother, for my entire life, called me by my older sister's name.

And as a mother, I have generally gone through all three of my kids' names until I hit the upon the right one.

But now I am in a much deeper quandary.

Right now I have Josephine, Roo, Triple-A, Rachael, Renegade, Samuel, Najale, Sally, Sofi, Delilah, and Pandora.

I confuse Triple-A and Josephine, because they are mother and daughter, and have almost identical markings.

Samuel, Sofi, Sally - I'm sorry, all the S's just run together.

Roo is pretty easy to remember.

So for the moment, when I go out to the pasture, I simply go through every one's names, and hope that they can at least hear their name in there somewhere.

HORSES CAN BE DANGEROUS AT BOTH ENDS

I love both my horses dearly.

But they are complete opposites in everything.

When something startles us while on a walk, Sally will stand firm and tall, stare grimly in the distance at whatever might be the threat, and trusts me completely and utterly to fight it off.

While Najale, of course, will immediately rear up into the air, waving his huge hooves right at my head while wildly whinnying - and then flees at a full gallop for the farthest and/or opposite horizon, dragging me along.

Some nights I take the horses out by myself. Tonight my husband was especially tired, and the rains have provided actual grass for the horses to graze on, so I felt a sense of obligation.

And guess what?

About a half mile from the house, something startled all three of us.

My arms are now a good 18 inches longer than they were before we went for a walk this evening - I feel like an ape with my knuckles dragging on the ground.