February 6, 2026: Apparently Jealousy Is a Hydration Strategy
I’m taking the mic back this week, but don’t worry. Bee is still very much involved. Mostly in the form of commentary, side-eye, and territorial behavior.
We’ve talked a lot lately about how important winter hydration is for horses. Cold weather dulls thirst, water feels less appealing, and dehydration is a real contributor to winter colic. That’s why I’ve been offering Bee Purina Replenimash, a warm, tasty mash designed to encourage water intake.
At first, it was a hit.
Then, just like that, it wasn’t.
In true Bee fashion, she decided she was no longer interested. Warm? Yes. Smelled good? Yes. Filled with goodness to promote hydration? Also yes. Still refused.
You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make her drink. Ask me how I know.
And then, completely by accident, I figured out how to get her to drink it.
Enter Judy.
Judy is Bee’s pasture mate and an intimidatingly tall four-year-old who is all legs and angles (and still growing), like an awkward teenager who hasn’t quite figured out where to put her limbs yet. She has the most enviable mane you’ve ever seen, the kind that makes you irrationally jealous. Judy loves attention, is always the first to greet me at the gate, and has absolutely no understanding of personal space, often in the most endearing way.
She’s also the biggest horse in the pasture and somehow the lowest on the herd hierarchy. Think little sister energy. One day she’s going to realize she’s enormous, and when that happens, things will change.
But not today.
I set the mash bucket down, and Judy slowly, carefully, gingerly sidled up. She stretched her long neck toward the bucket and dipped her nose in like she wasn’t entirely sure she was allowed.
Bee stood next to the bucket and watched.
And then I could practically hear her thoughts:
“I don’t want it. But no one else is allowed to have it.”
Ears pinned. Head turned. A few attempts to nip. Bee chased Judy off just enough to reclaim her space, and then immediately began drinking the mash she had previously refused.
Problem solved.
Except Judy, bless her heart, was not deterred.
She began her slow return. One careful step at a time. Neck stretching. Nose reaching. Testing boundaries over and over again. She wanted that liquid gold and was willing to negotiate for it.
Bee continued drinking while simultaneously issuing very clear warnings through body language that Judy should stay away. Judy ignored most of them. Not out of defiance, but likely due to a combination of determination and a slight shortage of self-preservation instincts.
I watched this entire scene from the safety of the other side of the pasture gate. I didn’t want to stir up unnecessary drama, but I also realized I had stumbled upon the most effective hydration strategy yet: something like sibling rivalry.
It worked. Bee drank. A lot.
Eventually, I stepped in and made Bee back up and share. Judy had unknowingly assisted me in solving a real problem and deserved her reward. Fair is fair.
This whole interaction was funny, but it was also a reminder of how powerful herd dynamics are. Horses are social creatures. Competition, curiosity, and hierarchy influence everything. Sometimes getting a horse to do something isn’t about changing the feed or the routine. It’s about changing the context.
Winter hydration matters. Warm water helps. Mashes help. Creativity helps too.
And sometimes, the biggest horse in the pasture with the lowest rank ends up being the unexpected hero of the day.
Bee is hydrated.
Judy is persistent (and now a little more hydrated too).
And I will now be using this trick again.
Bee also had another visit from Miss Kitty this week, which she would like formally documented. Kitty arrived with carrots, spa-worthy brushing skills, and the correct level of admiration. Bee was pampered thoroughly and approved the entire experience. Five stars. Immediately rebooking.
Yay! The spa and treat lady came back!
Because Texas weather can not decide what it is doing, blankets were taken off and had to go back on, which should have been a calm, boring task. It was not. Bee has made it abundantly clear that she does not enjoy having her blanket put on. This was communicated through ear pinning, body positioning, and, in one unfortunate instance, a very clear nip (ok, well BITE) to my elbow. Rude. I still have the lump. The second time, I was only slightly smarter and kept a close eye on her head so she couldn’t make contact. Progress, but not mastery.
In hindsight, the correct move would have been to halter her and put the blanket on with her tied, removing her ability to bite entirely. That one’s on me. Well not really, she shouldn’t have pinned ears and biting over blanketing at all. Horses communicate constantly through body language, and Bee was very clearly saying, “I am uncomfortable and I would like this to stop.” I heard it. I just didn’t respond quickly enough.
Of course, Bee was an absolute angel when barn friend Connie removed the blanket with no issues at all. And she was perfectly polite when I took it off later myself. Because horses. Context matters. Leadership matters. And sometimes they are reminding us who’s in charge of the conversation.
Until next week,
Mom (with eye-rolling Bee supervising) 🐴