The loneliness of the long-distance mule

Woke up Wednesday morning to this:

 

BEFORE

 

There was a lone horse living on the 50-some acre pasture outside the pens. He would come visit once or twice a day. Walter became increasingly frantic about being separated from the horse, and took to pacing, trotting and galloping the fence line compulsively 24/7, scraping his neck along the top pole while holding his head over it.

 

He would slide to a stop at the corners, and had piled heavy mud up over both gates. 

AFTER

 



Oh, my aching back...

 

 

Walter's next night - tied to the post while I prepare a highline

 In a desperate attempt to get Walter to calm down, eat and drink, I high-lined him inside the stall area that night (high-lining is tying an animal by its lead rope to a strong overhead rope, with just enough slack so it can eat, drink and lay down without getting tangled). I pitched my tent next to him, on the concrete floor by the tractor. It worked. It was a long night. Then Walter began pawing madly and fussing at the first glimmer of dawn.

 

My mule was self-destructing and I felt terrible about it... Kristal's parents, Laney and Tommy S., offered to put Walter up at their farm near St Jo, where he'd be on pasture and could either be just over the fence from their 2 horses or turned out with them. With enormous relief and gratitude, I accepted.