I hardly know what to think. One minute I hear the humans saying "the city" is in the process of engulfing us and the next minute various flora and fauna are causing my mane and tail to turn white overnight. This all took place in a twenty-four hour period and has left me on a level of extreme high alert.
It all began when the woman and Molly returned from a forest ride just as it was growing dark. Molly was let into the paddock so she could roll and stretch before going in for the night. A few minutes later the woman returned and as we saw her exit the house we began a chorus of complaint and demand - "dinnerdinnerdinner!!!" - something like that. Penny exited the house so fast she appeared to be jet propelled. She hit the wall of shrubbery next to the wheat field and promptly emerged in pursuit of an unfamiliar, heavily furred canine form. They made a beeline for our paddock in the now near-darkness.
Both forms ran nearly under Jack and self. Doc bellowed and began charging at them. Molly began shrieking "save the food, save the food!" and all of us tore around the paddock madly giving voice. When the dust began to settle, Jack coughed and said "ya buncha pinheaded peabrains, it's a fox, doncha know!" Oh. That explained the red fur, voluminous tail and generally intelligent air. Penny carried on with the pursuit and we finally went inside to work on our delayed dinners.
As we were eating our unfashionably late meals, the woman casually mentioned that she was told there is a mountain lion living in the forest from which she and Molly had just returned, said forest being a proverbial stone's throw from here. What?! A fox is one thing but a large feline predator? This is sheer madness. I feel like a homesteading pioneer donkey, fending off the more violent elements right on my own barnstep. The woman pointed out that we live inside at night and that no mountain lion/cougar/puma could possibly make off with someone of my generous girth. I'd rather not be put to the test, thank you very much.
The last part of the wildlife trilogy occurred today when the woman took Jack and self out for a promenade. Imagine my shock when I discovered a gigantic white sphere - the size of my dinner bucket - next to the path and within sight of our paddock. I froze in my hoofprints, snorting loudly and repeatedly and moving my head up and down to try and size the thing up. An alien spaceship, no doubt about it. What else could materialize out of thin air and simply sit there emitting a pale, sickly glow ? Jack was eating a few fall leaves and gave those his full attention. When he wanted to move on he said "sonny, them things grow every year - they caint move or nothin." How does he know these things? How can I be sure? I plan to keep a very close watch on it. The woman called the object a puffball and said I should be able to recognize one of my immediate family. It's the sort of boorish response I've come to expect.
Frankly, I'm exhausted. A sojourn at a cottage would be nice. I wouldn't have to worry about the wildlife - it's all right here in my own back yard.