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.

Last week at the barn, my friend Lindsey and I were chatting as we groomed our horses in the crossties. Our voices were businesslike and earnest; the tone one adopts when deliberating on something of the utmost importance.

We were well into the conversation before it struck me that two mature, educated, adult women had spent the last 15 minutes keenly discussing horse poop.

Horse. Poop.

October is upon us and as I have learned, this means that the Humans celebrate cooler weather in some very strange ways.

While I am on board with flavoring every imaginable drink and dessert with pumpkins and apples (as long as the Biped shares), I must say as someone who has studied human psychology, I find the costume element all too predictable.

Anyone who has spent a lifetime around horses and horse shows has some great stories to tell. Many of them involve odd circumstances under which they competed. 

Like the year I went to the American Royal in Kansas City. It was a multi-discipline show with a huge number of entries (my number was 1210 if that tells you anything) and a small number of arenas.

It took me a lot of years to figure out that the main reason a relationship with a horsey girl is challenging is because you, our non-horsey significant others, don’t understand us.