In keeping with the "I think my kids need farm experiences" we've allowed the Blackhorse division of the U.S. Army 5th Infantry division to "Bunk" their very ancient and arthritic trophy horse Sergeant Comanche in our ginormous dirtyard. The kids think he's their horse, the 5th Cav. Vets in St. George think he's theirs, and everybody's happy.
Each morning Matt feeds him and hays him. Each night Amy mixes a cocktail of no less than 7 items into Comanche's food. They talk to him, love him, brush him. I watch him from the house.
Matt and Maggie feed Comanche on on our only snow day resulting in a 1/2 acre ice skating rink
This post should have come to you in January, but with the death of my dad, I just didn't get to it. At this moment, Comanche has been moved to a neighbor's pasture because the mud of our backyard aggravated his arthritis. We don't have to feed him, but we can't see him every morning either. I was just starting to get used to the fella. The next goal is to get a pasture of our own so Comanche can come home.
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