The calm atmosphere of our slow moving Sunday morning was abruptly shattered when Andrew, who had been on his way upstairs to take a shower, begins shouting:
"The horses got out!" My generally low-key husband was in an absolute panic. Trying to piece together the cause of his distress, I walk toward the back door to investigate. Meanwhile, he continues to verbalize his concern for the horses. Hastily, he puts on his jacket.
"Where are my shoes?" He yells as he runs out of the room. To his dismay, my brain doesn't make the connection that he is looking for the specific pair that I had put away in the hall closet less than two minutes before this all began.
One of our favorite backyard scenes comes courtesy of our neighbors. They have a charming, fenced in, pasture area that is home to two beautiful horses. I particularly enjoy watching these horses from my kitchen window as I scrub dishes.
With his shoes now tied, he makes his way to the back door. I wait with expectation for him to holler,
"Come on, Lassie!! Let's go! The horses have escaped from the pasture and its up to us to find them, girl!"
A short time later, I learn that he went immediately to the horse owner's front door. For the first time, he introduces himself and informs them that their horses were seen walking up the road that separates our homes. What I assume is a result of embarrassment, the details of their response was sparse. Suffice it to say, they appreciated his concern and were quick to reassure him that they were aware that their horses were out, being led by a person, on a walk.
Clearly, said person had not been seen by Andrew. Bless his heart. At least they now know what a good hearted neighbor they have looking out for them.