This question comes from Luther, a shiny brown mule and the equine proprietor of Fetching Tags.
Hearty Greeting Brays to you, Brother Fenway,
I am writing to seek your advice concerning an inconstancy of sorts. As troubling as it is to me, never let it be said that this mule shies from a problem or prances around the truth:
My ladies have come home smelling of grain beverage & a strange half-mule.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a separatist mule by any means - my own mother was a half-mule and I graciously share my pasture with a few of them now. (The half-mules certainly don't have the manners and, well, finesse of a mule - but I don't hold that against them & am proud to have the quarter type half in the roots of my own family tree.)
When pressed, my ladies say "we just had a beer with him", but when they thought they were out of my long earshot, the one who rides me went on about "his big strong neck" and how "cute and tall" he was. You should know, my own neck is quite strong and at 16.1 hands, I'm not exactly short. I didn't speak to them for a week but I'm not sure they noticed as this tactic only produced a single apple. I'm not sure if I should jump the fence and hunt down the long haired neigher or just graze hay and forget the whole affair.
(He is a stout fellow - please find photos attached.) I await your wise words and I wish you warm sun & hay that smells of summer days.
As strange and disconcerting as this situation is, we must remember the facts:
A) a mule is a woman's greatest treasure
B) without horses, there would be no mules.
With these facts in mind, we must admit that horses have a place in human's lives. Whether this PARTICULAR horse has a place in these PARTICULAR women's lives, however, is another matter!
If he were a mare, I would suspect your women of plotting to introduce an infant disciple to your herd. Being that she is a he, however, I would rest assured that this is a fleeting flirtation. Their beers may be his, but their hearts are still yours.
Luther, maintain a reserved distance and take comfort in these two points:
A) where there is a big stout horse to do a mule's work, then somewhere nearby there is a mule at leisure
B) where there is a beer, then somewhere nearby there are five more.
So, Luther, here's my advice: first, demand the other five specimens from your ladies' next six pack. Next, send your humans out to saddle that stout fella. Once they've taken leave, just crack open a cold one and sit back. As you do, remember all that makes you better—your disproportionate strength, your sleek good looks, your intelligence and stoicism. I can tell you from personal experience that a mule can pass many a happy hour in such thoughts. When your humans get to thinking along those same lines, they'll be back. I'm sure of it.