Just Another Day on the Farm: When Things Break (and So Do We)

Just Another Day on the Farm: When Things Break (and So Do We)

Everyone thinks running a horse farm is all sunsets and gentle nickers. Here at Eagles Nest Equestrian, let me set the record straight: you get the sunsets, sure—but you’ll likely be fixing a fence or unsticking a tractor just as the sun dips behind the hills. Welcome to “Just Another Day on the Farm,” where the manure is real, the chaos is constant, and the good moments are so good you almost forget the rest (almost).

Let's be real—some days are the stuff of Instagram, but most are a far cry from a Hallmark special. If you think horse farm management is all galloping hair commercials, you might need a tetanus shot just for reading the rest of this blog.

The Real Job Description: Now Hiring (Again)

Glamorous titles? Around here, My husband Don and I are the CEOs (Chief Equine Officers), Head Mechanics, Professional Gate Chasers, Amateur Detectives (“Where are those horses now?”), Therapists (for both horses and humans), and Snack Masters (for dogs, cats, and the 10 chicken who keeps showing up). My to-do list is less a checklist, more a scroll—unfurls and hits the barn cat.

Case in point: It’s 6:00 AM. Your plan is to feed forty-five horses without accidentally duplicating anyone’s breakfast or offending the one with a “sensitive palate.” You stride to the shed, feeling confident and—surprise! The tractor's bright red exclamation point light comes on. It coughed once, made a sound like an asthmatic harmonica, and now refuses to budge. Of course, you Google “Kabota Tractor CPR” while balancing a coffee, a grain scoop, and your dignity.

Five minutes later, you’re elbows deep in engine grease when the phone rings. “Hi, I think one of the horses might be limping, or maybe just has opinions about Mondays?” You nod wisely, wipe your hands on yesterday’s jeans, and set out to solve the veterinary mystery du jour, mentally listing all the stalls you’re now not cleaning.

Wanted: Unicorns (aka, Reliable Barn Staff)

Legend has it that there are reliable, horse-savvy workers roaming the countryside. I have yet to see one in their natural habitat, but hope springs eternal. Finding barn staff is like online dating: the candidates look good on paper, but do they panic at mud? Will they remember which gelding can’t have alfalfa? Or will you find their “work ethic” is mostly “ethereal?”

Sometimes, employees vanish mid-shift and leave you contemplating the meaning of existence (and also stall shoveling). Once in a while, though, you strike gold—a rare person who gets it (and we do have a few!). They can spot an unhappy pony from across the lane and actually show up before daylight savings time. The day they call off sick, the horses organize a support group and you consider calling your own mother for guidance.

That Fence Wasn’t Broken Yesterday

Here’s how to know you live on a horse farm: there are more fence repairs on your calendar than birthdays. Fences at Eagles Nest are less “structures” and more “group suggestions.” A summer storm? Down goes the back paddock. Winter ice? The gate snaps like a breadstick.

And horses—oh, horses! Born with twelve hundred pounds of athletic curiosity and zero sense of personal safety. There’s nothing like the morning heart attack of spotting a group of horses where horses should not be (“Wow, you got out again? Should I just leave the gate open next time?”). You transform into a ninja in pajamas, a negotiator, and a sheepdog rolled into one as you coax them back, all the while promising yourself you’ll fix that fence “as soon as you finish breakfast”—which you will microwave at 3pm.

The Stuff Dreams—and Nightmares—Are Made Of

Reading this, you might wonder, “Why do it?” Let’s be honest: some days the best thing you achieve is keeping everyone alive. But then—oh, then—the good moments roll in.

The “good” is watching a new boarder's place at their first show or watching as they go from a bouncy saddle to a well-balanced transition into a canter.  It’s that one completely uneventful day (they do exist, like solar eclipses). It’s the peace of a sunset after you’ve put everyone in, hearing only the contented munch of hay and distant snoring. It’s the rush you feel when you finally, miraculously, fix that clanking tractor with a rubber band and sheer force of will.

We do it for the little triumphs—clean stalls, a satisfied client text, and the goofy pony who now trusts you enough to slobber on your shirt. The good is sweet, honest, and absolutely worth all the mess.

So, stick with us here at Eagles Nest Equestrian. We’ve got plenty more crazy stories, broken equipment, wandering horses—and trust me—the best “good days” you’ll ever see.