Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Different Shadows
Walking with Asher yesterday I spotted interesting shadows where the overnight snow didn’t land.
Do you think maybe it was a calm night? Yeah. Me too.
Later, coming out of the barn, I looked back at Cyndie and pointed out a bit of a shadow on her jacket from when she gave Mia a dose of medicine from a syringe.
No barn pigeons were involved, despite how it looks.
The full story starts from the night before when we were riled up over Mia’s pain and suffering. In Cyndie’s defense, she has only recently been getting back into outdoor activities and had no intention of spending more than a minute looking at the horses when Mia fell ill with that choke.
Cold, and walking painfully in her winter boot before her incisions have fully healed, Cyndie ended up making multiple treks back and forth between the house and barn. She came down with a syringe filled with a recommended dose of a pain med for Mia and suffered an epic failure to deliver.
Cyndie slid the syringe into Mia’s lips and pushed the plunger to deliver but the tip wasn’t in Mia’s mouth it was against her lip. The fluid of medicine sprayed straight back, covering Cyndie’s jacket, face, glasses, and hat. It was hard not to laugh but her frustrated cursing indicated it wouldn’t be considered laughable until much later.
The good news was that it helped Cyndie decide she had mixed the powder with too much water. She hiked back up to the house to prepare a fresh dose and ultimately delivered that batch like a pro who does this all the time.
Yesterday, Cyndie washed her jacket before heading down to help me with the afternoon feeding. Mia received most of this dose from the syringe but the fresh-out-of-the-dryer coat still took a hit.
I think that’s what a barn coat is supposed to look like, but we don’t always share the same standard.
Mia continues to improve. Yesterday morning we heard one occasion of just two coughs from her but by the afternoon we heard no coughing at all. She looked to be in good spirits and eating well.
We have the herd divided into two pairs: Swings with Mix and Light with Mia. After Monday night’s snowfall, I found evidence yesterday morning that Swings and Mix had walked all the way around through the hay field into the back pasture to approach the backside of the large paddock where Mia and Light were confined without food for the night.
The four of them were hanging out together on either side of the wooden paddock fence. Their hoof prints in the snow provided a shadow of their companionable activity from the night before.
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Another Choke
The new buckets for feeding the horses have been working well for me. Cyndie arrived home from a weekend away and I was excited to show off the new routine for her yesterday evening. Her ankle is still a little sensitive to the pressure applied by her winter boot, but she made a go of it and joined Asher and me in the barn.
Naturally, things didn’t go as smoothly as the last three feedings. Mia was overly anxious about moving past both Light and Mix to get across to where I’d been hanging her bucket. Instead of simply moving the strap for her bucket to where she was standing, I focused on trying to coax her over.
In hindsight, I fear we may have contributed to her subsequently inhaling her food too fast. It seemed like the horses had finally all settled down to eat. Cyndie and I were about to wrap things up, after practicing a few back-to-basics training with Asher in the barn. Then I noticed Mia had returned to the far side and she was lying down.
Uh oh. That is not normal behavior. Well, not normal for healthy, happy horses during feeding time. I looked into her bucket and verified she hadn’t even finished eating. She was rolling back and forth, getting up, then laying down again. Her early signs were mostly indicative of colic but eventually, she began coughing which is very normal behavior for having choked on her food.
When we initially suspected colic, it became important for us to get Mia up and walking. It was a bit of a trick to get a halter on her in the anxious and uncomfortable state Mia was in, but Cyndie eventually succeeded. That allowed us to attach a lead rope so I could coerce Mia into walking as a way of preventing her from lying down.
That was a little dicey for me at first because the other three horses had gotten a little jumpy and were crowding us which was making it hard for me to feel safe. Meanwhile, Mia began to cough up great blasts of air and spray I was dodging as well.
Daylight was fading, Cyndie had taken Asher back to the house, she was calling the Vet, and looking for meds that would help Mia if it was colic. I was trying not to panic and stay out of trouble while attempting to keep Mia up and walking.
As fast as the chaos started, things seemed to calm considerably. Mia’s productive coughing and the walking appeared to be easing her discomfort. The other horses decided to leave us alone and stood over by the dying willow tree. Cyndie returned with instructions from the Vet.
For the next few days, we need to monitor Mia for any after-effects. We will also return to adding water to moisten her food like I did a year ago after the first time she choked.
It’s a hassle but will be worth it to protect her from the unsettling discomfort and risks of an equine choke episode.
Horse fact: Choke in horses doesn’t interfere with the ability to breathe. So, unlike choking in people, it does not pose an immediate threat to life.
Here’s hoping Mia suffers no additional problems from yesterday’s dramatic affair.
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Lower Branches
There was a time when I neglected to put effort and energy into trimming the lower branches of pine trees, especially ones growing in the natural field on the north side of our driveway. I’ve changed my mind.
My old thinking was that trees out in a forest don’t have people trimming branches. I wanted nature to be able to take its course. My new thinking is that pine trees look better when their growth is managed, and the sooner, the better.
Over the weekend, I was able to give some of our long-neglected pine trees fresh attention and found myself surprised by what I learned. Even though we strive to always pull out vines that start growing up our tees, unseen vines were making their way up most of the trees I trimmed.
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The tool of the hour, day, and weekend was my Stihl GTA 26 cordless chainsaw pruner. Even in cold temperatures, the battery lasted longer than I did. That saw is perfect for this chore.
After seeing how poorly some of the trees have grown, in terms of putting energy into long lower branches instead of strong leaders gaining overall tree height, I made a point to start early on all the young trees I came across.
Why wait?
While I worked, I had Asher tethered to my hip on a 30-foot leash, occasionally enticing him with dropped handfuls of his food bits for him to snuffle through the grass to find. His patience lasted until he spotted someone walking on the road. That led to extreme straining against the leash and annoyingly desperate barking.
After a lunch break, I decided to reward his mostly good behavior of the morning with a chance to play off-leash. He did not make me proud. Sprinting directly from our front door to the neighbor’s woods in pursuit of squirrels, he disrespected every attempt I made to entice him to return.
He nosed around in their woods, extending the distance away from me with each zig-zag. When he got out of sight, I headed off across the cornfield to intercept him but by the time I got there, I spotted his paw prints headed in the direction of the neighbors’ place with the outdoor cat.
Fool me twice… shame on me.
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Impermanent Art
The many random balanced rock sculptures I create around our property are impermanent by design. I expect them to tumble back to earth, sometimes within mere minutes. Other times, they can last more than a year. I have an affection for placing balanced stones atop the stumps of trees.
Somewhere in the archive of past posts (Previous Somethings) there are photos of me using the loader to raise rocks too heavy for me to lift so I could balance them on a tall stump. The upper rocks fell rather quickly but the last one sat on that stump looking rather phallic for far longer than it should.
Eventually, the lopped tree trunks rot to the point of not adequately supporting large stones. I think that is my favorite end to these installations. Once the trunk is no longer standing, the piece cannot be recreated. Sometimes the rocks get repurposed into the labyrinth.
Earlier this fall, Cyndie and I dug up a rock along one of our trails that was too big to lift so I just leaned it up against a stump where two rocks balanced above.
The stump for this artistic masterpiece didn’t get a chance to rot to tumble the stones. I can’t be sure whether the rocks fell before some woodland critter in search of insects attacked the stump or not.
I admit to cruelly imagining the stones tumbled while the animal was within range of being superbly startled. It would be really sad if one got hurt by them, but I suspect wildlife is quick enough to dodge more than a bump from the collapse of one of my creations.
Hopefully, the scavenger got a good snack from the stump shredding. Think of the poor insect victims!
Nature can be harsh. But it’s beautiful to observe!
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Incremental Improvements
We have tried a variety of solutions to address the issue of Light kicking over her feed pan with a spastic leg flex when she eats. None of them have proved to be all that effective. Recently, we came across a method that looked like it would better fit our situation. Cyndie did a little research and ordered us some new buckets and straps.
Swings took to it instantly, gleefully even.
Mix didn’t have a problem with the change, either.
This is what happens when the vendor decides to split the shipment between two of their stores…
Mia gets served with the same old feed pan as always until the fourth bucket arrives.
Light appeared to make a bit more of a fuss about it than the others, but that didn’t stop her from munching away.
At the same time, it also didn’t stop her from flexing her leg.
I kept hearing her bucket getting bounced around but I missed seeing if it was from kicking it or knocking it with her snout. Each time I looked back in her direction, she was munching away normally.
It was quickly apparent that sharing will be a lot harder to do compared to the big round pans. They can only fit one nose at a time so when Mia finished first and came over to borrow extra bites from Light, it required a lot more finesse on Mia’s part and acceptance from Light.
Based on yesterday’s first feeding, I think the buckets will work well as a solution that will produce less wasted spillage. It will take me a few tries to figure out the most efficient steps for serving up the feed in them, but I’ll come up with something.
It’s a promising step of improvement on our methodology at feeding time. I’m looking forward to perfecting the minor details.
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Wonky Weather
When you woke up today, did you realize it was the last day of November? Our weather took a step back toward October yesterday. That served to complicate my assessment of what day and in which month we find ourselves at the moment. Of course, that confusion rides on top of the daily challenge one experiences when living in retirement and not having anywhere one is required to be on any particular day.
Warm sunshine was a welcome change and reduced our snow cover significantly.
Only the areas shaded from the afternoon sun retained evidence snow has already fallen this year. 2023/24 is an El Niño winter year for us, meaning many storm paths will shift to our south. We still may get some snow, but it is predicted we will see more occasions of mixed precipitation or even rain. Not my favorite scenario.
Yesterday’s pleasant weather made it comfortable for the farrier to trim the horse’s hooves. The horses were relaxed when I showed up to put on their halters but by the time the trimming got underway, it was precariously close to their usual feeding hour. With each passing minute, they showed an increasing impatience for feed pans to be delivered and a decreasing interest in standing around calmly for trimming.
Life’s an adventure.
My adventures with Asher were a little different. He was confined to a leash all day but I tried to give him freedom to choose his path. Unfortunately, all he wanted to do was revisit the very same off-property places that got him in trouble the day before. We’d walk a while until I stopped at the limit of our property line and then he’d do a little tugging and redirecting until he gave up and then the same thing would happen further down the line.
It wasn’t very rewarding for either of us, but at least I was able to prevent him from running off. That was a win for me.
My brain is not able to tell that 29 days of November have already passed. Maybe I should be putting an “X” on each day in a calendar as they become history to help my perception. The wonky weather sure isn’t helping me out.
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Around Again
Sitting on the cold, hard ground with a pile of dog treats beside me, I watched as Asher passionately made another manic pass around the neighbor’s outbuilding. Their cat had dashed under a tiny opening to avoid capture. Sure, I was feeling angry. He had clearly disrespected my commands for the last twenty minutes as he freely trotted along well beyond the repeatedly demonstrated limits of our property, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected.
No, what was irking me even more was the way our horse, Light, walked right up to my face while I was cutting through the back pasture and without warning, reared up on her hind legs giving me a much too close encounter with one of her front hooves. WTF, girl!
My startled audible response was enough to get all the horses to react, rearranging themselves to different positions. I didn’t have time to deal with them at the moment because I was on a mission to regain control of Asher while thinking about what model of shock collar I wanted to convince Cyndie we should buy.
When I crested the hill of the hay field, I caught sight of Asher and saw him turn toward me in response to my call. Then he crossed the road and continued his illicit sniff-fari along the cornfield’s edge in gross defiance.
I phoned Cyndie and asked her to ring the “dinner” bell at our front door because we’ve trained him to return to that and sometimes it actually works. He definitely heard it. He turned and began to run. I thought we had him and I started running for the gate near the driveway to meet him, but he kept going along the road and headed directly for the neighbor’s place with the cockapoo and the barn cat.
Did I mention it was cold? I really didn’t want to be sitting on the ground, but it was obvious that Asher was not going to allow me to catch him. I needed him to come to me. Offering food was not enough enticement. Each time he came around the building, he returned to the spot the cat had snuck under. Each time he took off around again, I moved closer to that spot.
Finally, I was able to reach him and attach the leash to his harness. I am not proud of my performance as I practically dragged him back the long walk to our house on that leash.
The ambiance in the house was warm and pleasant as I whipped dog and leash through the door before slamming it angrily to go feed the horses and pretend I wasn’t thoroughly pissed with Light’s unsafe behavior.
I was triggered, majorly. My old self would have proceeded ignorantly. I wanted to shut down. I didn’t want to look at the dog ever again. I didn’t want to be the only one feeding the horses every day. I didn’t want animals. I didn’t want to be married.
You see where this was headed. But, I know better now. My depression has been treated by professionals.
I have also learned life lessons from horses. I quickly got back to grazing. Deep breaths. When Light began her spastic leg flexing that always ends up spilling her feed pan, I stood beside her and moved my hand soothingly along her chest and leg until she calmed down.
We don’t always take the time to do that for her. In this case, I was also doing it for me.
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Kicked Off
Yesterday, we kicked off the post-Thanksgiving holiday season with a brunch and a show. With our kids and some of Cyndie’s family, we gathered for brunch at the Copper Hen restaurant on Nicollet Avenue in Minneapolis. The place was hopping with good energy, the ambiance was intriguing, and the food was top-notch.
From that location, it was just a short drive to Northrop Auditorium on the University of Minnesota campus where Cirque du Soleil was offering their first-ever holiday show, “Twas The Night Before…” It was a little different to see a Cirque show confined to a small stage but the quality of acrobatics was first-rate and the entertaining sense of humor and high-energy music was on brand.
Making everything feel even more seasonally festive, Cyndie and I drove through some heavy falling snow on the way to Minneapolis. As we passed through the city of Hudson, we dropped Asher off at his new favorite canine hangout, the kennel that offers afternoon daycare in addition to overnight boarding.
It seems like he is starting to recognize the route because he got increasingly excited as we approached. In the lobby, where he had previously shown some hesitation to be separated from us, he left Cyndie behind without a glance and rushed right in to be with the rest of the hounds in attendance.
Although it made it nice for us to have him well cared for while we were out, it forced us to make a hasty exit after the show. We left the family with a nod and a wink to get our car out of the parking ramp and hit the road so we could pick him back up before they closed for the day. If we didn’t get there in time he would become an unwitting overnight guest.
During the show, our phones pinged with a weather warning that icy road conditions were possible in the area. That heightened our sense of urgency in rushing off but neither time nor weather proved to be a problem and everything worked out nicely.
I think I may have kicked off a few earworms of Christmas songs that could get old real quick, but it was special this year to jump into the festive cheer with family before the Thanksgiving weekend had even ended.
December will be here before you know it. Ho ho ho. Visions of sugar plums dead ahead.
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Feeling Thankful
I’m particularly thankful on this final day of the US Thanksgiving holiday weekend. The good fortunes bestowed upon us by the universe, chance, choices, and a smattering of genuine efforts are beyond measure. As such, engaging in the exercise of naming a few that come to mind provides valuable perspective for a immeasurable phenomenon.
When I realized the automatic waterer for the horses in the paddocks was getting warmer than a hot tub, I looked up the temp control details online. Upon opening the access panel of the waterer, I found there was no thermocouple to adjust. After I got over the shock and traced wires several times, suddenly my fingers landed on the leads to the unit that was just dangling in air. I don’t know what caused it to slide out but I’m extremely thankful the fix was so easy and the water is now a reasonable temperature that won’t sting the horses’ lips.
- The surgical incisions on Cyndie’s ankle have a ways to go before the skin has healed fully. Still, already she is experiencing joyful relief over the absence of the screws and plates that once held the shattered bones together. They eventually became a problem of their own. I’m really thankful for the good work of the surgeon and staff of the hospital and Tria Orthopedic for their excellent treatment of Cyndie’s injury.
- This is an ongoing appreciation but lately, I’m feeling particularly aware of the mental benefits of successfully treating the depression that dominated much of my life from childhood through roughly mid-life. I am so very thankful for the doctors and therapists who guided and educated me, some of whom I can’t even recall names or faces. I guess I wasn’t focused on the guides but on the destination.
- Lastly, for this exercise, I want to tell you how thankful I am that you are reading the odd chronicles I decide to post here every day on Relative Something. To the worldwide audience of WordPress bloggers who happen upon random posts and end up returning for more and the friends and family who understand I don’t use other social media and keep in touch by reading me here. Even if I don’t know you are following along, if you are reading these words right now it means something to me and I am thankful internet stranger(s).
Maybe by exercising my thankfulness muscles in this way, I will continue to gain prowess in my journey toward optimum health. Mental “planks” as compared to the back-saving core exercise I continue to employ. Thankfully, those seem to be helping me to avoid prolonged repeated episodes of debilitating pain.
Happy last day of this (U.S.) holiday weekend!
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Orange Obsession
It has come to my attention that I can obsess with relative ease. Obsession is something I prefer to avoid due to the preoccupation filling a mind constantly and intrusively to a troubling extent. It’s just not mentally healthy.
When a glimpse of blaze orange appeared from our front yard about 45 meters (50 yards) into the woods to our north, Asher and I both took notice. Asher wanted to freeze and stare while I preferred acting nonchalant and continuing as if oblivious.
Once inside, I didn’t hesitate to whip out the binoculars to see if I could verify the possibility there was a hunter crouched beyond a ridge, waiting for a deer to wander close. Unfortunately, I couldn’t improve on the basic perception of a small blob of orange. There was just too much distance for my wimpy binoculars and too many branches or tree trunks obscuring the view.
After staring for far too long in the hope of seeing some movement, I gave up and decided to check back periodically to see if it was still there. Hours eventually turned to days and I was able to convince myself it was not a hunter but more likely a hat or some other article of outdoor clothing that had been dropped and lost.
That didn’t stop me from continuing to look for it every time I walked nearby. I was curious if the hunter would return in search of the lost item, all the while reminding myself that our usual privacy was likely being invaded for random periods during the 8 days of the deer hunting season.
Eventually, enough days passed that I decided to deal with my trending obsession fascination with the blaze-orange object by taking the risk of walking into the neighbor’s woods to see what it was.
It wasn’t a hat. It is a hand warmer with a strap that wraps around the waist to secure it… unless it doesn’t. I would expect the hunter’s hands would get cold enough that he or she would have missed it and retraced steps to retrieve it at some point.
Turning around to look back at our house, I had a renewed sense of weirdness over a person walking so close to our place that is otherwise very secluded.
I picked up the hand warmer and walked a short distance to the plowed field where I hung it up prominently in view for someone to find should they come looking for it.
This morning we heard a couple of close shots from the other side of our property. It has been relatively quiet for the six days between last Saturday morning’s gunshots.
Tomorrow is the last day of the hunt. I look forward to the return of wildlife being the only creatures wandering around in the woods surrounding our house and an end to my seasonal obsession with blaze-orange sightings.
Knowing it’s a hand warmer hanging in some branches at the edge of the woods nearby will help me avoid obsessing over it, but I’ll check occasionally to see if anyone retrieves it.
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Relative Something 