We’ve just completed one of the best weeks in the barn. Thanks to the nearly non-existent winter, the pasture closed early, but our super-soaking spring brought the grass back to life in record time.

As always, the horses have honored their contract to keep the fence lines neatly trimmed, edging the emerging green on their side of the boards, as well as the several inches under and beyond. Motivation makes many things happen, and fresh forage compels Chicago and Moe to tilt, twist and contort like Olympic gymnasts.

Their Nibbling for Neatness campaign ensures their tummies transition to the richness of spring grass, minimizing the risks of colic and/or laminitis (i.e., stomach and/or foot issues) so while their pasture time is limited in the early days, the length of their snacking stints increases quickly during the first week.

Since this is Moe’s first spring at Four Sticks, I wasn’t sure how he’d react to the Grand Re-Opening of the pasture, but he took his cue from the Big Red Beast, and the initial Removal of the Rope Gate was remarkably uneventful. I dropped the rope, they dropped their heads, and started grazing quietly, side by side.

The only surprise was the willingness with which they walked off with me after their allotted 30 minutes. Moe politely accepted the proffered carrot chunk in exchange for snapping the lead rope under his chin, and Chicago walked over to, and alongside us – well, except for that one stop for an obviously irresistibly tasty tuft of turf – but then he fell back in step and beat us back to the barn.

During the second day, Moe moved on and off the pasture a couple times, sometimes trotting, sometimes shifting between a stiff canter and the gait his genealogy gave him. It was fun to watch him move out a bit, especially given it cost him valuable grazing time. And while I figured they’d be on to me and my carrots, they once again cooperated without complaint as I escorted them back to the hay racks after an hour on the good stuff.

I love them more than most beings in my world, and would like to believe the feeling is mutual, but in my heart of hearts, I know that in early May, the hearts of my horses beat for the bounty of new grass. So, I should’ve known…

Day 3 ruined any adolescent reverie and revealed the secret to the mystery behind all the movement. I buckled Moe’s halter under his chin, ran a hand under his belly, admiring the Appaloosa spots poking through the remains of his winter coat, and noticed his slightly swollen, slightly bloody underside.

Gnats.

The irritating insects had been feasting, getting their pound of horseflesh while leaving swaths of dark and crusty pinpricks on Chicago’s and Moe’s bellies, chests and ears.

Fortunately, scratching the scabby strips makes us all feel better, so we enjoyed a little extra grooming time, then prepared for battle.

Fly masks now shield the eyes and ears, and a generous application of insect repellant ointment protects the rest.

The ointment comes in a jar with the choice of neon pink or clear, and as you might expect, the discerning geldings of Four Sticks Farm opt for application of the invisible. No need to call attention to oneself. Especially if we’re talking biting bugs in sensitive areas.

It’s a sticky substance that coats my hands with horse hair and gnat crust, and adheres to the underside of my fingernails from now ‘til Labor Day – the Four Sticks Farm French manicure – but it’s effective, even as it melts with the heat of the horses, leaving spots of greasy, gnat-bite-free, patches on their glossy spring coats. Practical before pretty.

So, the gnats are here, the flies will follow momentarily, along with mosquitoes, wasps and barn spiders.

But the grass is green, the trees have popped, as have the hostas, ferns and day lilies.

A beautiful day in this neighborhood.