Perspective
My Nikos loved Pasha. Both bay Thoroughbreds, tall, athletic, strong, they made a striking pair.
Sue’s barn was horse heaven. The horses lived outside 24/7, no confinement in cages, and they could hang out in the indoor arena when they wanted to. Sue told me that many mornings when she came down to feed, Nikos and Pasha would be sleeping together in the arena, leaned against each other like an old married couple.
A friend, Julie, was staying at Sue’s one weekend, caring for the horses while Sue and her husband were out of town. One morning, Julie picked up the phone to make a call and heard heavy breathing on the other end. Startled, she hung up. Then she walked into another room and picked up another phone. Heavy breathing. Panicked, she left the house and headed down to the barn to see if the horses were OK. This made no sense, of course, but for some reason she had convinced herself that the heavy breather on the other end of the line
was either in the house or on the property.
She headed into the arena. The phone receiver had been knocked off its wall base and was lying on the ground, and several of the horses, Nikos among them, had their noses pressed to it—heavy breathing.
I’m sure Pasha had nothing to do with this silliness. She was probably on the far side of the arena with the other mares, rolling her eyes.