I was recently weeding through my Facebook feed and noticed that several of the Humans I follow have been posting Instagram photos with extensive captions (which could really use editing) with the #30daysofthanks hashtag.
After consulting with my social media manager, I learned that this is an exercise Humans use to publicly convince themselves that their tiny little lives are full of meaning.
On the rare occasion that I have acknowledged the Human holiday of giving thanks over on my Facebook page, I have had Bipeds ask me what I am thankful for. Although I give the impression of being very demanding, I realize that I am a very lucky horse (though I could be luckier).
So, rather than having the typical, piddley little one-sentence answer that will be shared around dinner tables everywhere on Thursday, I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you my top 25.
- My fabulous wit and model-good looks.
- The fact that the hay man began making his flakes bigger this year, combined with the fact that the Human is too clueless to gauge my supper by weight.
- #NoStirrupNovember: I don’t know why you people decided you needed to see horses laugh, but if you thought this was the best way to make that happen, you’d be right.
- My charm, which allows me to bribe the barn cats into knocking the Human’s riding crops behind the tack trunk—over. And over.
- Parental controls on my Human’s web browser. Without them, she might have discovered longer spurs, tougher bits, and the option of ordering Twinkies in bulk.
- Saddles without knee or calf blocks. I believe in training my Human’s muscles the old fashioned way—by shooting her to the moon each time we jump 3’3.
- Reins without rubber-grips. When I need to take over during cross-country, there is no time to waste.
- Ditches on the cross-country course—because sometimes I just can’t with her anymore, and these seem like a soft place to drop her off.
- The letter ‘A’ in the dressage ring. It’s such a good place to start. Even if we’re supposed to start the test at X.
- The letter ‘X’ in the dressage ring. This is my all-time favorite spot to poop.
- The talking George Morris doll—for when she’s at home and in need of a good ego check.
- The length of the crossties in our wash stall, which allow me to dance back and forth when she takes too long fussing over my stall, and even walk off the concrete block without breaking the twine.
- The thickness of my mane, which requires braids to be so fat that it takes about 30 seconds each to pop the rubber bands the night before the show.
- My Human’s job, which often requires her to be gone for long stretches of time, allowing me to recover in between dressage lessons.
- The depth with which the Human beds my stall—a good six inches of bedding is all I need to bury every single poo. It’s like a scavenger hunt for her, every day!
- My good health. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to drop kick the dastardly veterinarian every time she drops by.
- Freedom of speech/of the press, which allow me to ply my trade. Without a constitutional guarantee to these things, I’d have to do a lot more biting to get things done my way.
- The semi-stylish blankets my Human spends her hard-earned money on. I can’t imagine how I would get through a whole day in the drylot if I didn’t have some nylon to rip.
- Earbuds. Not for me—for the Human and her dreadful Top-40 binges during barn chores.
- Netflix. Although, I wish it would stop insisting I watch Black Beauty. Downright discrimination, if you ask me.
- Yoga and Guinness, the combination of which give me my saintly patience with sticky, whiny, wet noodley Humans.
- Judges’ scoring comment cards. To adjust her expectations of reality.
- Walk/trot students. Because small children are much more appreciative than adults. And they have better cookies.
- Waterproof mascara, which avoids my Human looking like a raccoon after her crying jag during stadium.
- Online shopping. Also known as: cookies in bulk.
|Jitterbug is a Michigan-bred Professional Draft Cross who skillfully avoided saddles until age 5. Since then, she has been lauded for her talent in successfully managing humans while training herself to one day achieve eventing greatness. Jitter and her human live in central Kentucky. Photo by Dark Horse Photography.|