I’ve written about this before, but it bears repeating because it is entirely applicable to my current condition: I am at my utmost obsessive when working with horses.

The more I do with horses, the more I think about them during every free moment. The amount of time I do and think horse-related stuff is inversely proportional to the length of time defined as “free time.”

I’ve been training on two of my own horses, I’m starting on my second client’s horse-training project for the summer, I’m working on corrals and fencing, and it’s summertime so almost all of my friends are talking to me about their horse-related activities. At this point, then, any microsecond of distraction from work and other thoughts — like blinking — is likely to contain a thought about horses.

At least once an hour I have an episode best illustrated by the dogs in the movie “Up” hearing “squirrel.” One part of my brain says “horse!” and the rest freezes in point at the thought or scrambles after the thought as it skitters over the convolutions of my gray matter. Then, “hunh?” I snap back to attention, guilty from my wayward mental vacation.

I mention this because, well, I’m obsessed with horse thoughts and this is a way I can justify thinking about them for several consecutive minutes and because, in pursuit of my “just friggin’ write” policy, I will be writing about horses. You’ll just have to friggin’ put up with it … or, OK, you could friggin’ go somewhere else to read. In which case, I’m sorry …

It was nice knowing you at pam[at]viewfromthenorth40.com

Post Script: John just said that when the horses walked through the yard on the way out to pasture, one of them must’ve reached into the pickup and yanked the dog’s blanket out the window and threw it on the ground. Suckers are just beginning for my attention — they bait me into it.