Florence Graham
Stories (2/0)
Ruby
My name is Ruby; I am 26 in human years, 9.2 hands. For most of my life I lived with my mum and her family on the outskirts of a beautiful village. Ours were knitted into a patchwork of fields, all fronted by an army of ancient woodland. Twisting chestnuts, regal oaks, shining birch, inhabiting our perimeters. My friend and I spent our days grazing the pasture, shaking off the flies and taking cover from the rain. We would run, play, we were well looked after and happy. When he passed away I moved. I stepped into the box and that was it. My familiar surroundings never returned. A new home, this one was at a farm; a far busier environment than I had existed in before. My new fieldmate was a mare, Vita. There were sheep in the field next to mine, they were noisy and messy but I didn’t object to the company. Life remained simple, I had no obligations. In the wetter months I’d still get mud stuck to my fetlocks and my coat still split into darts, In the summer the flies still bugged me. I had enough attention paid to me; haircuts and pamper sessions to keep me comfortable, an occasional visit from a dentist or blacksmith. I couldn’t complain about the life I lived. I had my share of carrots, apples, pats and strokes. I especially liked being scratched on my chest between my front legs. Simple suited me just fine.
By Florence Graham3 years ago in Petlife