note: we’re counting the following as my answer for “Why Horses?” Wednesday!
It did not take long to discover Mr. Chips had many talents. None of them were related to being an Equine.
There was no door he could not open. Only keyed locks eluded him. (I’m sure this is because I hid the keys.) I was thankful I had the foresight to padlock all of the pasture gates. When I was home, they remained bolted but not padlocked: I was in and out of the pasture too often. If I left the property it was Lock City. I was less worried about animal theft, and more worried about a burglar “accidentally” letting Roz and Chips out while trying to see if there was anything worth burgling in my home. (That would be no.)
Little did I know that Mr. Chips believed he was a ninja.
Dave was coming over to help me rototill my garden. He arrived early, while I was down in the barn, unloading sacks of feed. Not seeing my truck, he figured he’d unload the tiller, and get it set up while he waited for me to come home. The padlocks were off the pasture gates, though both were securely latched with sliding horse-proof “drop hook” bolts. Mr. Chips, who had taken to supervising anything to do with feed, had been imperiously watching me heft bags into stacks. Really, his name should have been ‘Nero’ or HRH Supreme Dictator. When I reached for the last bag, Chips was gone.