Our weather has been all over the place lately. One day it will be cool and rainy with booming thunder and lightning slicing across the sky, and the next we’ll be sweltering in near triple-digit temperatures.

That’s Colorado for you. If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.

On one of the ninety-plus days last week, when we pulled up to the gate to feed our crew, a brown and white Paint in the adjacent pasture greeted us.

I mean he seemed really glad to see us. He ran to the fence, ears perked, which is horse language for “hey you look interesting.” It was as if he knew us and expected treats.

Thing is, we don’t know him. He’s been in this turnout a couple of times before, but we haven’t even named him. And if you’ve been reading this blog for any time at all, you know I have a tendency to name everything and everybody! Horses, people, rabbits, caterpillars have all received nicknames from me.

So we said hello and went about calling our horses in. It’s a more complicated process these days now that we have Beau to consider, but we’ve figured out a plan that seems to be working. And everybody has calmed down a little, so the drama isn’t as high.

Thank goodness!

While our guys ate, their next-door neighbor grazed. After a while, I noticed him pawing at his water tank. It looked like he was trying to tip it, and that made me curious. Turns out the tank was empty.

Bone dry.

There wasn’t so much as a droplet of water. This guy was thirsty.

That’s when my trusty sidekick came to the rescue.

He shut down the electric fence (smart thinking!) and then turned on the pump. Pretty quickly, water trickled into the bottom of the tank. The Paint stuck his face into the water and slurped up several mouthfuls.

Once his thirst was quenched, he looked up, and I swear he said “Thank you.”

In horse language of course, but it was a definite thank you.


As we drove out, we stopped by the barn to let somebody know what we’d done. We couldn’t think of a reason he wasn’t supposed to have water, but if we’d ruined something we thought we’d better own up to it. We were operating under the maxim, “better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

No one knew anything about this guy or  the water tank being empty.

With our good deed done for the day, we headed home.

About that particular Paint – he now has a name.

You guessed it. We name him Thirsty.