"Bento for My Horses!"

This is not as crazy as it sounds. Today I packed a bento box lunch for my horse. Well I guess that is actually pretty crazy. But:

On a longer trail ride I like to bring a few treats for my horse. His faves are: granola bars, grapes, and carrots. So the usual thing is: stuff the snacks in the saddle bag, drag them out all crushed and broken hours later, feed him mushed grapes and broken up granola bar, etc. End up with wadded plastic bag that might or might not get taken out of the saddle bag at trail's end and if not, end up with moldy mush a few weeks later.

Today I was going out for a 2 hour ride so I packed him a bento snack box.

Here it is:


I also packed myself a bento so that I could skip breakfast and have a bento brunch out on the trail:

Yummy organic pink grapefruit, fried basmati rice, and peanut butter pretzels.

As always with horses, the question, "What could go wrong?" is not rhetorical. I had no sooner stopped for lunch and placed the bentos on a log:


...than my horse John decided that red thing was interesting.

He was merely following the #1 Commandment of The Horse:

If It Looketh Interesting, Thou Shalt Try to Eat It.

Faster than I could say NO, JOHN!, he had the bento belt off, the compartments separated, the contents available and half of them eaten.

By this time I was thinking bento box rescue, so I dived in and did an intervention between his moochy lips and the container. He was unable to open the granola bar HA HA NO OPPOSABLE THUMBS!! and so I was able to defer this much of his gratification at least.

It then devolved upon me to help him get the carrot bits out of the brushy ground cover and offer them up to His Highness;


That took care of his snack, with a bit more drama than I'd expected. Now it was time for me to eat my own bento brunch.

This was tricky as I had brought one tiny slippery pair of chopsticks, and I had to hold his lead rope while eating. Plus, John decided that fried rice was something he had not yet enjoyed in life and that was a crime against equinedom.

Why did I not tie him to a tree, you may well ask?

Well that was because I had put his cute bear bells on his neck today, and I knew that if he had a tree to rub on he would follow Equine Commandment #2:

If Possible, Thou Shalt Break It.

So I juggled horse, chopsticks, and bento container as he alternately munched grass and loomed his big face into my space to beg for fried rice.


I gave up on the grapefruit sections and they are sitting in the fridge even as I write, a snack for a later more peaceful time. The peanut butter pretzels melted in the saddle bag:

..although you can see I ate one of them anyway, big mistake as the scent of peanut butter makes John revert to Hungry-Hungry-Caterpillar mode.

I think that horse bentos are a thing that needs some work. I believe I am a person who can take on that work. The ideal sequence of events may be: tie horse, eat one's own bento while horse noshes on grass, then feed horse his bento.

"What Could Go Wrong?"