Archive for the ‘Wintervale Ranch’ Category
Disappearing Days
Can days actually disappear? Vanish without a trace? Somehow or other we have arrived at Monday, November 25th. Where was I when time flew by?
Efforts are under way to prepare our home to host guests for multiple gatherings over the coming Thanksgiving weekend. You know those things that lie around unnecessarily for months, that suddenly become noticeable as being out of place when preparing for special events? Suddenly, piles of stuff are beginning to form at the top of the stairs, waiting to be carried away and stashed in some less conspicuous location.
I don’t understand where it all came from, how it all accumulates, or where we have space to store it in the future.
Maybe those days don’t actually vanish without a trace, and this stuff is what gets left behind by the disappearing days.
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The local deer population has been reduced by a few already. Yesterday morning, we were surprised by a knock on the door, and our neighbor stepped in to describe the scene that had just transpired with his grandson down by the pond on their property. He was confirming we were okay with them tracking a deer they had shot, which then turned and ran into our woods.
In reality, it crossed our property entirely and made it into the neighbor’s woods on the other side of us. The guys dragged it down the trails to the edge of our woods where they could drive up with a trailer to haul it away to be registered with the DNR. I had Delilah out for a walk when they showed up in their truck and of course, she took great interest in this, and thus was a challenge to hold as we visited with the hunters for a moment before they drove away.
I think she is frustrated with the extended time indoors and on the leash this weekend. I spoiled her with a lot of time running loose last week.
Now that I think of it, last night, when our CSA farm neighbor stopped by with this month’s delivery, which included a fresh turkey, Delilah had that same look in her eyes as she put her paws on the counter to sniff the bird as she did with the deer in the trailer. She is a carnivore, there is no doubt about that.
One night I decided to treat her to some left over chicken chow mien on top of her usual food. She eats everything she finds on the ground, from sticks to antlers, mummified carcasses, and even manure, but when I checked her bowl after the chow mien, I found she had deftly set aside a piece of celery and a mushroom that didn’t interest her.
She certainly knows what she doesn’t like.
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Necessary Medicine
It is very rewarding to see our dog, Delilah, loving the snow with such gusto. She buries her face in it! Sadly, we are making her sick with the medication to treat her Lyme infection, as the antibiotic is upsetting her tummy. There is a life lesson in that, isn’t there? If we are too timid about enduring some necessary hardships, we shortchange ourselves from ultimate results we seek.
The relatively brief period of gastric distress is worth dealing with to rid her of the infection that is causing her to be intermittently lame. She’s a trooper and is handling it well. For some reason, she seems to prefer to throw up indoors. I was trying to get ready to take her out before bed last night in the extreme cold, and thus struggling to get boots on, hat, jacket, gloves, plus my head lamp, while she started gagging. Half way through getting my stuff on, I’m running into the kitchen to get a paper towel.
Nothing of substance was coming up, but she kept trying. I’d hastily get a boot on, and then turn to wipe up after her, now rushing even more to get the rest of my stuff on so I could take her out. I left the last spots to be wiped up later, and we headed out the door. Outside, she seemed completely fine. After a very short time out in the cold night air, after she both peed and pooped, I invited her back in. At the door, she started to choke again. I quickly reversed direction and offered her a chance to stay out a bit longer.
She walked around the yard, nosed the snow, but seemed otherwise just fine. Back to the door, and a bit of a gag. Maybe being in the house makes her sick to her stomach?
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Single Digits
We received a bit of snow on Thursday night, and this morning temperatures are in the single digits. My usual ease with facing the extreme cold of winter has waned as I age, but I was pleased to find that adjustment came quickly for me, as I began clearing the driveway up by the house. In no time, I was removing my jacket and finding an easy balance of comfort in the cold, while involved in activity.
Sure, it feels cold if you just step out and stand still in the frigid air. What a great excuse to do something productive, or at least, entertaining!
After I finished the driveway, I walked with Delilah down to the labyrinth to make tracks along the pathway in hopes of establishing the route in snow so it will remain obvious throughout the winter. It was a delightful experience to be the first one to trek through the snow, enjoying the rare opportunity to see where I have been, in contrast to the portion that lay ahead.
Delilah has a bit too much energy to be limited to staying on the path, so she wasn’t much help with tromping down the trail. Plus, the arrival of snow has ramped up her energy immensely, as she gleefully celebrates the white stuff that has turned her outdoor world into a whole new playground experience.
Unfortunately, today dawns with new restrictions for our animals, as the deer hunting season has begun, and the woods all around us will be filled with the sounds of gunshots. The unbridled romping will be severely constrained for the next two weeks.
Cyndie reported that this morning, the two elder horses of our herd were stoically standing posts facing in opposite directions and were barely willing to suspend their surveillance to partake in the morning feed. They sense that the predator/prey operation is underway.
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Tricky Care
I took this photo of Delilah a while back, to show off her forehead painted silver by some concoction Cyndie sprayed to seal a wound. We noticed recently how nicely that spot finally healed up. What we once feared would be an obvious scar on her head, has now disappeared. She had hurt herself by running into barbed wire when she was over zealously exploring off-leash.
Earlier this week, the same day I had taken Delilah into the vet to be seen for her lameness, she got up to greet Cyndie coming home from work in the evening, and the problem had moved to one of her front legs. That didn’t take long. It was one of the signs the vet said we should watch for that would indicate the Lyme infection was active, and would warrant a second, different antibiotic regimen.
In the manner of behavior that dogs can be so good at demonstrating, whenever the lameness subsides, she quickly returns to activity as if she is in the peak of health. Now, that’s something that should be studied. I wish I could do that when I was sick!
It makes it tricky when caring for her. She seems like she could run and run, but should I let her? For both of our sakes, I’m taking a break from chucking balls for her to find. Seems I’ve developed a bit of tendonitis in the elbows from a variety of the activities I have been engaged in around here. She and I can convalesce together.
We can play, “Find the Ball with Your Nose” indoors, for a while. Good timing for that. Temperatures are headed for the deep freeze this weekend.
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Experiential Learning
I am curious whether or not the horses are aware that they are training me to care for them. Prior to their arrival here, I had very little exposure to horses, and absolutely no experience in managing the care of a herd.
Parts of the process already feel comfortable for me. I am able to step inside the paddock without hesitation, to feed them or clean up after them, while they are unconstrained and not wearing harnesses. It seems to me as though they accept the leadership role I am in, but my knowledge of all things horse-related is so limited, I have to believe they sense my lack of experience.
I’m finding that their shenanigans to chase each other off the feed, when we provide one pan for each of them, frustrates me for some reason. I guess I want them to behave the way I think they should, instead of the manner which they choose. I’m sure we’ll all figure it out eventually. In the mean time, it is part of what leaves me feeling mostly clueless about the deeper levels of understanding horses, which is, understandably, a reflection of my lack of experience. I don’t get to jump from knowing nothing, all the way to in-depth knowledge, without going through the process of actually gaining it through experience.
Another thing that urks me is that Hunter makes a habit of putting a hoof into the feed pan to tip it and dump the feed all over the ground. That stuff ain’t cheap! He/they are pretty good at cleaning up most of it, but it messes with my sense of order.
Yesterday, I figured they were telling me they were ready for the afternoon feeding when I walked by on the way to get the mail. Legacy led the group in a trot across the big field to follow my progress. I sensed they wanted something. I stayed on my task, and walked back toward the house without stopping at the barn, and so they took to racing around, kicking and cavorting, to let me know… something. This is where I am short on experience to confidently interpret their behavior. I guessed they were frustrated, but their galloping looked a bit too fun-spirited to me.
Since it was close to the time we would normally give them the afternoon feed, I turned around as soon as I dropped the mail in the house, and returned to the barn. When they saw me, the herd came right up under the overhang where we set out their feed pans, all of them breathing heavy from their bout of running around. I went through the usual routine, at my pace (to let them know I am in charge), distributing their dinner for them to battle over and spill to the ground.
Another day’s “lesson” in the books for my ongoing process of learning by doing. I’m not always sure about what I learn each day, but I’m having a lot of fun gaining experience in caring for horses.
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Found It!
Cyndie found the mouse that the cats killed. They put it in the toilet. We are very impressed that they knew the mouse was something that needed to be disposed of.
Meanwhile, the horses have proved me wrong. I believe that I wrote about how often I find them lying down to rest in the afternoons, and that one of them always remains standing to keep watch. Yesterday, I looked up from my task to find that all four of them were on the ground at the same time. I guess they feel safe here. As I watched them, I noticed there was no traffic on our road and no activity underway in any of the fields or at the neighboring farms. It was wonderfully calm and quiet, even with the wind kicking up some fairly robust gusts every so often. I think their behavior is a reflection of the environment where they now find themselves living.
We are pretty happy with the place, too.
Now, the serenity is not without interruption. This time of year, there are an awful lot of gunshots spoiling the natural sound scape. Hunting seasons for a variety of animals start in September and run into December. The biggest hunt around here is definitely the deer season. It opens this coming weekend, so right now many hunters are preparing their guns, test-firing them and calibrating the sights.
We saw the horses startle at the sound of some of the closer shots later in the day yesterday. I’m hoping that the presence of our horses and Delilah will have rerouted the deer traffic away from our land, so the hunters will have no incentive to post themselves close by. I certainly haven’t seen as many deer around here this year as there were last year during the same time period.
I’ve posted images here on the blog of Delilah with her blaze-orange vest on, I wonder if we should get the horses some blaze-orange blankets. We definitely don’t want to have them wear antler hats for the next two weeks. I’ve heard stories that cause me to be uneasy during deer hunting season. Luckily, there are no strangers hunting in our vicinity. It is all private property, and the hunting is done by family groups that are familiar with the area.
I’m just happy our cats have finally decided to participate in some hunting this year. It’s the season!
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Pet News
The weather is holding, and making my earlier post inaccurate, as forecasts now indicate we still have some 50-degree temperatures available to us up here during November. Luckily, we were spared any of the thunderstorms and tornadoes that other parts of the midwest experienced.
I barely had time in the afternoon yesterday to finish off the bracing wires on the corner posts and then start the process of setting posts up the hill for the fence line along the northern border of our property. The sun sets so dang early now that just as I start to make progress, it’s time to gather up the tools and call it a day.
The morning was consumed by a trip to the vet with Delilah. On Saturday evening, after a wonderfully normal day, she laid down early, slid off the back of her bed and didn’t move for the entire time we were upstairs watching a rented movie. It seemed so uncharacteristic for her. After the movie, Cyndie had to work hard to coax Delilah to move, and at that point, it became obvious there was a problem. Delilah couldn’t get up.
Without any warning, she had suddenly gone lame. A quick search pointed to Lyme disease as a likely culprit, which wasn’t a surprise. When we had her in for surgery, shortly after we first brought her home, they ran a blood test and told us it appeared Delilah was already infected with Lyme. Even though we weren’t seeing any symptoms, the course of treatment indicated was for 30-days of antibiotics. We followed through on that, and during that time, and since, we witnessed no symptoms, so we were feeling hopeful.
Not any more.
First, Cyndie, now our dog… I sure hope the horses don’t get it. Or the cats, for that matter. Even though they are indoor animals, we saw them catch a mouse the other night (Finally! It’s the first time we witnessed them get one), and mice are reservoirs for the infection. By the way, we saw them catch the mouse (they actually appeared to be working together), but we didn’t see what they did with it. I thought sure I would be stepping on it when I walked to the bathroom in the morning darkness. Nope. I lucked out.
But we still haven’t found any left over evidence anywhere. They really are more efficient than a baited trap. I have to dump those. I’ve gotten 3 in 3-days in a trap in the garage. Last year, I just tossed the mouse-cicles into the woods. This year, I am wary of Delilah finding them if I do that.
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Practicing Big
It turned out to be a beautiful day yesterday up here in the Northland. We hit 52°F in the afternoon, which made it delightful to be doing outdoor chores. There is no mistaking that our days are numbered. It is reasonable to expect that we won’t see temperatures this warm again until April of next year. I tried to be mindful of the precious comfort afforded me while toiling away in the warm sunshine.
The forecast for the next 10 days shows a trend headed downward toward daily highs only in the 30s.
Before lunch, I took a break from my fence project to tidy up the paddocks. My appearance seemed to draw the horses in from the big field to check on me. I gathered they knew it wasn’t time for the feed we distribute in the morning and evening hours, from the nonchalant manner in which they arrived.
I noticed that Hunter had come close to where I was standing, but was still on the other side of the fence, so I set down the pitch fork and walked out to meet him. Legacy is always watchful, and when contact is being made, he wants to be there. As he approached, the other two trailed along. With the herd now idly congregating, I wandered back to my task. The horses decided to get a drink of water.
I was happy to see them comfortable enough with the setup to gather around, two on each side, and drink through the sound of the unit flowing as it tried to keep up with their demand. Thinking back to when they first arrived here, that sound was unnerving to them.
After their drinks, they stayed around, occasionally nibbling on some hay, so I had company while I continued to scoop. It was a good exercise for all of us to spend time in close proximity. I had opportunity to practice what Dunia suggested in her comment on my Language Barrier post, and communicated using my big energy to command results when Legacy or Hunter tried to chew on the wheelbarrow or gate chain. They responded appropriately, and I felt as though I was on the way to establishing my leadership with the herd.
With all four of them hanging around, I took several breaks to give them special attention. All but Hunter stood still and let me brush and massage them with my gloved hands for an extended time. In between, I would go back to cleaning up the grounds, moving them out of the way so I could get to the spots that needed attention. At one point, they started to crowd me against the fence a bit too much, so I sought to move on, except the direction I was headed was into the corner.
It was time to practice more leadership. I tried walking out of the paddock, thinking …they showed up here to begin with because of my presence, maybe they will want to be with me out here in the big field. It didn’t work. They didn’t budge. I walked back in to where Legacy was standing, his attention having been on me the whole way. I wonder what he was thinking. I began the exercise I learned at the Epona seminar, and which I have successfully put into practice twice before, walking an arc in front of him, as I encouraged him to follow me with my big energy. His first step was not so much engaging as it was threatening, so I hastily made that my turn and brought my energy around the other direction. At that, he took that step I was looking for, toward me.
I turned to direct my energy out of the paddock, without looking back, as he and the herd followed. I must have looked like the Pied Piper. I got them outside the gate and stepped aside to let them run off with gusto. They all stopped with me.
“Okay, you want me to take you farther?”
I re-energized quickly, to avoid losing momentum altogether, and headed out toward better grass. At this point, they rallied their own objective, and strolled beyond where I had stepped aside. Mission accomplished.
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Missing Katie
For those of you who may have noticed something suspicious about the amount of activity I have been engaged in on the ranch lately, I will reveal that I have stopped going in to the day-job. For reasons beyond just saving gas money for the 65 mile one-way commute, or reclaiming the hours lost to driving, I am on leave from my usual employment.
At about the same time I started my leave, a person I worked with there moved on to a new position at a different company. How do you part ways elegantly when someone you used to see every day disappears from your life? Not a day has passed without me thinking of something that I would normally have told Katie about when we next saw each other at work.
Instead, I now find myself trying to talk with Legacy. It’s just not the same, I tell you.
I am trying to be open about the possibility of finding work closer to home, but my few attempts thus far have been met with rejection, so my inspiration is waning. In the mean time, it occurred to me that I can balance the loss of income by taking on some chores that we would otherwise need to spend a lot of money to get done. Yes, that means building fences.
A year ago, I didn’t know a thing about how to build a fence, but after watching the professionals put in our paddocks and string up the border of the big field, I’ve learned a lot. I thought it took them a long time, but now that I am digging my own holes and burying posts, I have a new appreciation for how much they could get done in a day.
It is very important to Cyndie that we get rid of the barbed wire fencing that is close to the trail where she plans to ride horses. Yesterday, I surveyed the most exposed section and came up with a new idea: Leave it be.
That fence has been there so long that trees have grown around the wire. It will be much less work if we simply erect a new fence, just inches inside the old one, and choose fence material that will serve as a barrier to the barbed wire beyond it. Since that old fence defines the boundary of our property, it is technically shared by our neighbor. Leaving it in place eliminates any question as to the location of the old boundary and avoids putting any burden on them to make changes they don’t need.
We really don’t want to cut down trees if we don’t have to, so putting our barrier up just inside the old fence means we can run inside the trees that have grown up right on the old line. It’s a win-win scenario!
Except I’m slow, …and I don’t get to talk with Katie.
Language Barrier
It appears that I continue to be hampered by my limitation of being monolingual, when it comes to communicating with all our animals, and none of them are showing any signs of understanding a word I have been saying.
I kind of expect that from the cats. They are naturally aloof. Although, I haven’t tried too many phrases on them. Mostly, they just hear me repeat, over and over, “What do you want? What do you want?”
Delilah sometimes responds to single syllable commands, but she is inconsistent about it, so I don’t have much faith that she is actually interpreting the words or sentences I have used.
With the horses, I know I should be trying to move out of speaking just from my head, into trying to use my gut and heart energy more, but sometimes the message feels time sensitive and my words are the quickest tool I have. Most often, it is Legacy who I find myself face to face with, and my words have been eliciting a blank-stare response from him.
He seems as frustrated with me, as I am with him. I expect he is probably transmitting his messages to me loud and clear, but they aren’t coming through in plain english, so I am at a loss as to what he is trying to say.
Yesterday, he showed up at the other side of the fence while I was cleaning the ground in the paddock. For some reason, he started chewing on the fence post above the electric wire. Now, the wire is there to discourage them from chewing on the wood fence, so I was half-hoping that he might get too close and feel a shock that would teach him to leave it alone. He may have been just trying to show me that he could, that he was that good, he could work around our little deterrent.
I didn’t want him to do it, so I was feeling peeved. At first, I tried ignoring him, so he might notice it would gain him nothing with me. My frustration got the better of me, when he continued, so I walked over and told him not to chew on the post, and I slapped my hand on the top of the post a few times, to emphasize my point. When that didn’t alter his behavior, I stepped up again and pounded on the post and then told him I was angry. I wanted him to know in his language, so I put my hands on my head, to mimic horse ears, and I pinned them back, telling him, “See? This is how I feel about you chewing on the post. I am angry!”
He didn’t show obvious signs of reacting, so I brought my ‘hand-ears’ forward, so that he might understand they were supposed to be my ears, and with that, I startled the heck out of him! He pulled his head back, and took a couple of steps backward. I pinned my hands back again and told him I was angry!
It was funny, because the part he reacted to wasn’t supposed to be the threatening gesture. Regardless, it seemed to do the trick. I went back to scooping up manure, and he went back to grazing.
Apparently I know more horse language than I realized.
Relative Something 