Whenever my husband comes home and I greet him at the door smelling a bit like, well, manure--he always teases me by asking if I've been out "kissing horses."
Guess what? I do kiss my horses.
They like it. Only the old ones who were raised by men don't do it. All the others, raised by my daughter and I, or other women--love it.
They do it to each other all the time. You see them walk up and touch--smell--and walk away. It's a greeting.
Today I realized I didn't have hardly any pictures of Beautiful and I since I'm always the one on the other side of the camera. I need one for Joanne's blog, Whole Latte Life, where she's going to give me the opportunity to answer some questions about Beautiful and I--and Mustangs in general. I look at it as a great opportunity to share the joy of adopting a Wild Horse!!!
My husband obliged me--and we had a lot of fun. It had been raining, so I took out my umbrella and let Beautiful examine it. She wasn't too sure--especially since the wind kept blowing it over into her face. But when I asked her for a kiss, she put all fear aside and walked right over to me.
She and Cowboy are certainly my "kissiest" horses. I just love 'em.