Food for Thought

Henk writes:

There are those who’d say that we Friesians have won the genetic lottery of the horse world, and I’m not one to argue. I’m sorry about the lack of humility, but it’s not hard to see that we’re like an extended family consisting entirely of George Clooneys and Denzel Washingtons and Angelina Jolies, and Scarlett Johanssons. Ridiculously gorgeous. Talented, too. Oh, and did I mention charming?

But there is one very important aspect of horse life where we’ve decidedly drawn the short straw. Food. We’re what’s euphemistically referred to as “easy keepers.” Another way of putting it is that we just need to look at food to put on weight. Your average Friesian can maintain his 1200 pounds of gorgeousness on a diet that would starve a goat. That just isn’t fair.

I live across the aisle from our Thoroughbred rescue, Beau. This little nipper is nine months old, nothing but legs and attitude, and a massively overactive metabolism. You should see the buckets of food that go into that stall twice a day! Beet pulp, half a bale of second-cut hay full of alfalfa, specially-formulated grain for babies, vitamins, carrots, apples….

And what do I get? One skinny flake of grassy hay, a little beet pulp, and a handful of “grain.” Lil thinks she’s fooling me with the grain, but I know it’s nothing but a forage pellet. Mostly hay. But it does taste good, and gives me something different to chew on. For the minute or two it takes to eat it!

OK, I can hear you thinking, Beau’s only nine months old and growing like a weed, so he needs the extra nutrition. Ha! Not so fast! Mila’s nine months old too, but she’s a Friesian. You think she gets to load up on buckets-full of feed? No chance! It’s hay and vitamins for her, thank you very much. And besides, Beau’s not the only skinny-legged critter in the barn. The others are all grown-ups, and still they get volumes of food the mere thought of which makes me dizzy.

So I tell myself, as I listen to these wretched bone-racks chewing away until all hours of the night, long after my starvation ration is both eaten and digested, that I’d outlast them all in a famine. A day or two without food and you’d be able to play their ribs like a xylophone, while I’d still be as sleek as a seal. Besides, I’m saving Lil all kinds of money on the food she doesn’t have to feed me. One more reason (as if she needs one!) for her to like me best. Take THAT you skeletal eating machines!

Oh, who am I kidding? I’d learn to do Piaffe for an extra scoop of grain every night!