As I was going through my morning routine of feeding the horses, walking the dogs, turning out the girls and bringing in the boys, and finally coming in to sit down and relax over my morning cup of tea, it occurred to me how much of a habitual creature I am. The dogs know, when I am done with that morning cup of tea, that it's time to go out back and play ball and get brushed. We do this every morning. And, every morning, when I bring that empty mug over to the sink, the 3 dogs start dancing and prancing, tails wagging, paws skidding on the wood floors, whines of joy bubbling up out of their mouths.
While I don't get as excited as the dogs do, I do relish my routine. It's comfortable, like an old bathrobe. There's a security in the habitual routines. Following the routine doesn't even require much thought, I do it by rote. Not until I sit down in front of the computer to work, do I have to really engage my brain. Yes, I do notice if the horses all eat breakfast. Was the manure in the stalls "normal"? Messier? Wetter? Dryer? When I go out at night to do bedcheck, I listen for the soft nickers from the horses as I bring them their last hay of the day. Their nickers let me know they are fine. They are happy that I am following the routine, they are getting their night hay, the same as they always do. Day after day. But, I don't really have to think about it. If something is different, something non-routine, it jumps out at me, almost like an alarm. Letting me know that something isn't right.
When the routines are disrupted it's usually because of some crisis--the last one being an abcess in Cara's hoof. Not a severe crisis, but a minor disruption in the regular routine. When the routine is followed, it means all is well. Animals like their routine. They take comfort in it, find security in it.
When I purchased Jeeves, it was in January, 2004. One of the coldest Januarys (hmmm, Januaries? Hmmm...) that we've ever had. He had lived at the previous barn for 7 of his 9 years, so it was rather traumatic for him to be in a strange barn, with strange people and strange horses. New routines. Despite the bitter cold, I bundled up and went down to the barn and rode him. I knew he would find comfort in the routine of being ridden. He understands being ridden, being schooled in dressage. It helped him understand that this new barn was much like the old barn. He still got fed, still got turned out, still got ridden. Similar routine, just different times, different ways.
When I get a new horse or a new dog here, it usually takes them a few days to figure out the routine. Once they have it figured out, I can see them settle in and start to relax.
I know there are people who get bored doing the same things, day after day. It's not exciting enough for them. But, for me, I relish the comfort of my routine.
