We have had at least six inches of snow on the ground for three weeks now, which is unprecendented in my 13 years in the Lower Mainland. Tonka and Raven have mostly been confined to the paddock, but I am opening up the pasture on days when they seem energetic. They usually bounce around for a bit, dig for some grass and head back into the paddock when they have tired themselves out.
Raven was in one of her thoroughbred moods yesterday morning, throwing little hissy fits and being a royal wench. I opened the horse gate to the back pasture hoping that she would blow off some steam, but I completely forgot to check that the human gate into our back yard was closed. Sure enough both horses trotted out, made two sharp turns to the right, and were stampeding past David's office window before I could say "ah, shit".
When David came out to help wrangle them back into the paddock they broke west around to the front porch -- thankfully Tonka wimped out before they got caught up in the rock garden or the drainage pit. Then they broke north, down the driveway and onto the road before striking out towards the highway (a good 500 meters away, but I would have preferred them to head towards the dead end in the other direction) at a trot. Somewhere at the back of my mind I was thrilled to see Tonka trotting big and sound on the freshly-plowed asphalt.
Horses on the loose don't worry me much, but I hate to see them on the road where an unpredictable spook in conjunction with a passing car can have horrific consequences. Fortunately Tonka soon lost his nerve, turned around and trotted back down the road, past our driveway and into the next one, where they got shooed home again by our neighbours. The whole thing took about five minutes and Tonka had the decency to look contrite when I caught up with him. Raven, on the other hand, looked ready for more.