On the Battlefield

I have a theory about flies.

But first, as our vet Dr. Bob says, "Flies are part of being a horse." OK, got it. But, we don't have to like 'em, right? So each year the battle begins. We try to be as environmentally friendly as possible and use fly predators and pick up the manure and compost it and spray the horses as little as possible but...gasp...there comes a time during the fly season that we're just on the losing side, completely and totally.

Yesterday, about 6 p.m. I went out to the pasture to call the guys in. I didn't have to. They saw me coming and ran to meet me. They get a little treat each evening but their gallop was for more than a treat. The controlled stampede had an urgency to it. They wanted to get out of the outdoors fast and they wanted to do it NOW.



Oh, so back to my theory. I don't like flies and they don't like me. But I don't think they think about not liking me that much. I mean, I don't think flies think that much, about anything. This time of year, when the nights are dropping down to the mid 40's, the flies aren't too happy. They have a hard time getting their buzz up in the morning and an even harder time maintaining their arrogant, nasty ways throughout the day. So...they get meaner. I mean meaner in the sense that they just pester the hell out of the horses, all the while sneering and snickering as they dart back and forth. They know soon they'll hit the dirt (Jack) and not come back, no mo, no mo. So they're relentless.

They bite in places that are hard to reach.



And the normal weapons are so worn out and tired this time of the year.



And some never had much to start out with!



Soon Fall will be here in earnest. We can only hope it comes swiftly with freezing nights and barely acceptable days, temperature-wise. We hope it comes with dastardly consequences for those irritable, mean, nasty flies. I'm sure Dr. Bob would also say, "Being dead in the fall is part of being a fly".



We'd have to agree!