I arrived here after a 3000 mile cross continent journey. I travelled with 11 other horses in what my person called a transport truck that was specially outfitted for our needs. Each of us had a space just barely wide enough and long enough to stand in with some hay in a swinging net in front of us.
We’ve moved a lot, my person and I. I was born in Quebec and raised and trained by a French family. When my person bought me, I couldn’t speak English at all which must have been frustrating for her as she tried to get me to do even simple things – but I caught on and am functionally bilingual now: I can walk, trot and canter in two languages.
We’ve lived in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Alberta and now back in New Brunswick all in less than seven years. But this place, these small 5.6 acres, are ours forever. I have a lovely, cosy barn, lots of hay and grain to eat and my person makes sure there’s an endless supply of clean, fresh water. During the summer months I have a whole 2.5 acre pasture all to myself, but close enough to the fence line that I can chat with ‘Sally’, our neighbour’s Percheron mare. All in all, life here is looking good.
the Pasture Potato