It’s bad enough that they lurk right out side the fence, from early morning to pretty much all day, completely pissing off the dogs, who go ape shit and bark all day long at them.
C’mon! There are literally a bazillion acres (maybe figuratively, I don’t know what a “Bazillion” is, but literally millions) that they can go south, but NO! Ten feet from my back fence.
Bark. All dogs. Day long. Mix and sort as needed.
But NOW! Those fuckers are breeding! Right in my back fucking (so to speak) yard! Swingin’ horse cock and kicking and struggling. Nature’s not pretty, my friends! Lots of dust, biting and kicking.
Go the fuck away! Or go away to fuck!
There has got to be a way to monetize this. GoPro, subsidize me!
Standing on their hind legs with leather jackets on, swigging from a bottle in a brown paper bag, smoking and shouting obscenities at your dogs. As the day goes on they get more drunk and then the equine orgy starts.
Damn those flowers, blocking my view of the edge of the street! And damn those damn singing birds, masking the sounds of doors shutting and my neighbors arguing! And damn the stars and the moon – I just want to see blackness, and what do I get? Little sparkly thing and a big shiny disc!
It’s part of the ambience. You could, you know, move to a loft in Tribeca; you’ll find very few wild horses there. Reminds me of the folks who moved into a woodsy new neighborhood outside Truckee, then bitched about the deer eating their gardens.
This reminds me of the people who have moved into my neighborhood (the edges of a suburb that until 5 years ago was pretty much farmland) and then bitch (on NextDoor) about the rabbits, coyotes, and bobcats.
Personally, I’d *love *to see (and photograph) wild horses.
I’m assuming this is on BLM land so these are BLM horses … so call BLM and bitch at them … call your Congressman and bitch at her … everyday … “the squeaky wheel gets the oil” …
