Argustoga

Not far from Watermark Farm is a town called Calistoga, famous for its mud baths. Legend has it that in the late 1800s, a rather drunken entrepreneur stood in front of an enthusiastic crowd, pronouncing this California town "the Calistoga of Sarafornia!" What he meant, of course, was "the Saratoga of California," but the name stuck.

Clearly, someone has recently informed Argus of the medicinal benefits of mud, and Argus is intent on having his own Calistoga mud bath. This morning, I cradled a hot cup of coffee while performing my morning routine of peering at the horses from the house. This is the one thing I dreamed about back in the days when "horse property" was something I could only pine for. "I just want to be able to wake up," I told my long-suffering husband many years ago, "and drink a cup of coffee and see my horses out the window."

My husband was far less dreamy about his....er....dream. Typical man, he said: I just want to be able to wake up and go pee outside without any neighbors being able to see me.

Okay.

I am standing at the family room window, which faces the barn, staring out at the two white horses standing side-by-side in their paddocks. Except that one isn't white at all. He's, uh, DISGUSTING. And so is his blanket.

Every week something different. We say that all the time now about Argus, for each week is a lifetime to him, full of incredible adventures, terrifying mishaps, and poignant moments that slip by nearly unnoticed. This week Argus has discovered MUD. Not only has he discovered that it feels incredibly good to roll someplace wet and sticky, but he has ventured even further out into his mini-pasture to discover something even better: the drainage ditch.

Bordering our 5 acres is a shallow, wide swale that catches our runoff and diverts it off the property. For the most part, the horses leave it alone. It's muddy and cold, and although it's shallow enough to be safe, most horses are dignified enough to avoid standing in it.

This morning, Argus not only played in the ditch with great enthusiasm, he actually rolled in it! Which meant that his blanket also played and rolled in the ditch. Both of them emerged from the pasture looking rather sheepish, and drippy, and completely brown. Argus had water in his ears, and soupy tan mud pressed into just about every inch of his body.

This is a horse who is drinking up every moment of his life. Every single moment. This morning, when I went to the barn to see him up close in all his muddy finery, he gave me the most comical look, as if to say "Did you have any idea we had this fun mud to roll in? Any idea at all? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

I am in my pajamas, tall mud boots, and the famous thrift store orange down coat. Argus has no idea that we both look ridiculous. Argus holds still, even without a halter, for me to peel off that soaking wet blanket, almost as of the weight of it --- the mud, water, and goo --- has grounded him in a way that only an early morning mud bath can do.

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Argus is doing well! He is none the worse for wear since his accident last weekend! He does not allow me to touch the stapled cut easily, but occasionally I can wipe some ointment on it if I act casual and mesmerize him with my forehead-scratching talents.

His neck is still very sore and he'll get another chiropractic adjustment when Dr. Miller comes out next week to remove the staples. Thank you to everyone for your good wishes!

And yes, this is the Watermark Farm in Fulton...