12/29/2025
If your horses are stabled,
somewhere between the third barrow load
and the moment you question every life choice you’ve ever made,
the mucking out angels appear. (These are actually you ....just use them to motivate you! Ha ha ha!)
They arrive quietly.
Wrapped in three coats, two fleeces, a hat that’s seen things,
and gloves that were waterproof in 2009.
They don’t complain.
They just sigh deeply,
lean on the fork,
and carry on like this is a sacred ritual
(and not frozen poo archaeology).
They work by head torch,
navigate wheelbarrows like Olympic athletes,
and can identify which horse did which poo
with alarming accuracy.
They know:
the last barrow is always heavier
the clean bed is immediately disrespected
the horse will watch, judge, and then wee.
They don’t do it for glory.
Or thanks.
Or because it’s fun (it isn’t).
They do it because: someone has to,
the horse is warm,
and this is love in its most unglamorous form.
So if that’s you tonight
cold, muddy, slightly feral...
just know:
You are seen.
You are valued.
You are absolutely a mucking out angel. 🪽🐴
(Even if you smell faintly of wee and regret.)
