Posts Tagged ‘caring for horses’
Last Steps
We are down to the last preparation steps before erecting four new shade sail posts. I have been holding off from doing this work because we wanted to minimize the disruption to the horses’ normal routine. Since they appear to be coping just fine with the changes I’ve made prior to yesterday, Cyndie agreed we could temporarily relocate where we hang their feed buckets. That meant I would no longer need the hoakie fence I put up a few days ago, and instead close off the small paddock entirely.
I quickly went to work installing a different temporary barrier that finally allowed me to remove boards from posts, pull up a second post, and relevel two leaning posts on either side of the waterer.
Using all that I learned from pulling the first post, trying to straighten a leaning post, and installing the first temporary fence, everything I worked on yesterday went incredibly smoothly for me.
Posts are standing straight up, and the two spots along that line are open, ready, and waiting for the new tall posts to go in.
Is it obvious that I am chomping at the bit to get this done? Just have to wait one more day for my professional help.
What will I do with myself until then?
.
.
Good Housekeeping
What day does your cleaning crew show up to clean around the barn? Ours arrived yesterday (in the form of me) and did a fantastic job sprucing up the horses’ living quarters. Even though the air temperature was only in the single digits (F) in the afternoon, it was twenty degrees warmer than when we showed up to feed the horses in the morning. The difference was enough to allow me to work comfortably without feeling like all of our survival was on the line.
I hunted down an ice scraper that worked wonders to knock the frozen pigeon poop off of the placemats. Before Cyndie arrived to serve the buckets of grain, I raked up all the scraps of hay that tend to collect in the corners and along the walls.
The horses are always wonderfully accommodating when I am moving amongst them to do my housekeeping tasks before we bring out their food. During the periods of extreme cold, I have also taken to showing up at their buckets when they get close to being finished to break up the portions that have frozen to the bottom, corners, and edges. They all seem to recognize the reason I am there, and they allow me to mess with the food in the few seconds when they lift their heads between bites.
All of my actions are intended to make their surroundings as nice as possible for them. They have all been through hard times, and we want the place we are providing to be the absolute opposite of whatever stresses they have previously experienced. They are living their retirement in a place that we hope in time will erase any residual tension they might still carry from the rough periods of their previous lives.
I don’t mean that to sound entirely altruistic because there is a selfish component to all this housekeeping as well. I prefer the way the place looks when it is clean. Even if they didn’t appreciate their accommodations being well-tended, I’d probably continue to tidy things up just for my sake.
.
.
New Boss
Contrary to what I thought possible, Brad finished his work yesterday by 2:00 in the afternoon. I decided to wrap up my luxurious getaway and drive home. After a quick load of laundry to put fresh sheets on the bed and gathering all my things scattered in each space I had occupied, I checked the weather radar. Oops. It was about to start snowing and I would be driving in the dark.
I left anyway. It was sketchy in places, but I skated through the riskiest stretches on a large dose of luck. At one spot, traffic slowed for a car on the right shoulder with its flashers on. It wasn’t until I got right upon the scene that I spotted a deer sitting in the middle of the road in the blowing snow, most likely a victim of lameness from impact. Yikes.
Back home this morning, I was able to witness the progress we have made working with the horses’ herd ranks instead of against them. I was also pleased to see the waterer in the paddocks was flowing freely for the first day in a long time. Winter has softened significantly, making morning chores so much more pleasant.
When Mia was not well, we isolated her and gave her special attention, which triggered some acting out from the others, providing us new insight into their herd relationships. A volunteer who was stopping by to check on Mia several times was receiving some unwanted aggression from Light.
As Cyndie and Michelle talked out the behaviors on speakerphone, we all arrived at the same insight. We are going to provide better support to Light as the boss mare in the herd. It has been obvious for quite a while that Light was trying to take on the role that had been held by Swings when they first arrived here.
I think I wrote about this before. Their hierarchy was a complicated one because it wasn’t a straight 1(Swings)-2(Mix)-3(Light)-4(Mia). Number 3 showed dominance over number 1, but wasn’t controlling number 2. Mix was definitely below Swings but commanded over Light. Light could move Swings around but was subservient to Mix. Confusing? It is, in a way, but we had gotten used to it and didn’t do much to interfere, figuring they would work it out for themselves eventually.
However, we have come to realize we had been unintentionally interfering. For our own purposes, we had settled into a routine of feeding Mix first and then Mia. That was giving Mix privilege and actually rewarded her poor behavior of impatience during feeding time. Mix has never shown behaviors of herd leadership. Light has shown increasing levels of responsibility to protect the safety of all of them.
After just a few days of changing our routine of feeding to give Light first attention, Mix has quickly become less aggressive and meekly waits her turn. This morning, I saw them out in the field, lined up in order: Light out front with Swings off her shoulder, followed by Mix and then Mia.
I believe the herd has settled on a new boss, and we have finally caught on to support the change.
.
.
Counting Leaves
It is not impossible to function at -14°F (-25°C), but it can be a bit of a hassle to tie up hay nets and distribute buckets of grain –one of which now gets watered down— in such extreme conditions. I am very happy that Asher showed a keen sense of efficiency and adapted perfectly to my plan to shortcut our morning walk and get his business out of the way as swiftly as possible.
The horses were equally focused on their tasks and offered no resistance to assuming their positions and chomping grain with their frozen whiskers getting messier by the minute.
The feelings of accomplishment when returning to the house and getting the feeling back in our fingers and toes don’t entirely dispel the intense urge to have remained under the warm covers of our bed instead.
We tell ourselves these extreme cold snaps that are difficult to survive help to control the populations of pest animals and insects, as well as the number of added people who might consider moving into our region when their homes prove to be inhabitable.
I looked up at the leaves in the big oak tree over our driveway and had two thoughts.
There aren’t many leaves left clinging to all those branches. On the other hand, there are still more leaves up in that tree than I could count.
In contrast, there is a young oak nearby that looks as though it still is holding all its leaves after they dried up and turned brown.
There is also a birdhouse with a birch bark roof that features an opening that wasn’t there when initially built.
I think the residents left for a warmer climate a long time ago.
As harsh as this weather is, the forecast indicates the bite will be even more intense tomorrow. The critters that survive this will have something to brag about.
I have no conclusion that wraps these contemplations this morning into a logical theme. That would involve more thought than I have to muster. With what little energy I have, I intend to curl into a ball like Asher is doing right now on the couch beside me and save what I can for the next foray into the Arctic elements outside later this afternoon.
.
.
An Honor
For horses that have suffered neglect under the watch of humans, witnessing them now demonstrating trust in us is beyond precious. I know I have said it before, but it is such an honor and a privilege to stand among them while they eat the grain I have just distributed. When they allow me to encroach on their space to hang hay bags or clean the ground beneath them, it feels like they’re granting me a mystical connection.
I’ve seen them get ornery with each other, and it can look downright wicked before a quick return to calm. Some mornings, it’s not strange to find one or more of them all worked up about something until I finally get their grain served. Then, everyone settles down and focuses on the business at hand.
Yesterday morning, they were all chill as could be when Asher and I rounded the corner of the path around the back pasture into sight of the barn. They stood patiently while I cleaned everything up beneath the overhang, sometimes watching me but usually appearing to ignore me as they kept their eyes on the distant landscape.
It felt more damp than cold as the temperature hovered around the freezing point. That temperature range creates a situation where it is hard to tell if things are going to be wet or frozen. The driveway offered a little bit of both.
The circular spots were slippery, while the rest of the pavement wasn’t. It made it tricky for me to walk on. I chose to stay off to the side as Asher entertained himself by trying to maintain forward momentum when every third step would suddenly lose purchase.
In the time it took us to finish our last portion of the morning dog walking routine, the horses were done with their feed buckets, allowing me to reclaim them in avoidance of unwanted shenanigans from the mares. Given a chance, they have a knack for bending the handles all out of shape.
At that point, the horses’ attention switches to the hay bags they had just seen me fill.
As I unclip each bucket, I like to imagine the horses are thanking me for the fresh hay.
“It’s an honor,” I tell them.
.
.
Independent Streak
It would be fair to say that each of our four horses demonstrates a bit of an independent streak on occasion, but Mix often stands out from the others for more reasons than just her coloring. She doesn’t seem to need the others’ company as often as they choose to maintain a tight proximity. It came as no surprise to me yesterday when Mix came back to the overhang when the other three ventured out to graze in the hay field.
Since I was lingering to watch from the half-door of the barn, I surmised that Mix might be coming back to check on what I was up to. When she started trying to find a firm edge to rub her muzzle against, I stepped out to see if I could provide some hand scratching to soothe an itch.
She didn’t want my hands on her head but seemed to appreciate my robust scratching everywhere else on her body.
When she’d had enough, Mix moved slowly out of my reach and then moseyed down the slope toward the hay field gate. I continued to lean on the gate in front of me to observe.
At the exit of the paddock, Mix suddenly broke into a run toward the other horses with a dramatic pounding of hooves on the turf. None of the three even flinched.
Arriving with all that energy, Mix trotted around them some, shook her neck, and looked to see if she had inspired any of them to match her excitement.
They continued to basically ignore her.
Mix gave up and lowered her head to join in the grazing.
A short time later I noticed Mix rolling around on her back in the grass. I wasn’t around when they returned from the field but the next time I looked in on them, they were all standing around together in the small paddock.
When I showed up for their second feeding of the day, Mia was the one showing some independence from the herd. She was grazing grass along the outside of the paddock fence while the other three were under the overhang.
It’s never a concern if they are not in the immediate vicinity when we show up to feed them. I busy myself with housekeeping duties beneath the overhang, raking up spilled hay, scooping poop, and sweeping off their placemats. At some point, I turn to find (in this case) Mia standing right next to me. We are always amazed when these thousand-pound beasts demonstrate the ability to close distances swiftly, yet silently and suddenly startle us by showing up at our shoulder without warning.
.
.
Mia Protecting
Our dog, Asher demands a lot more attention than the horses so I gave him an extended session of intense physical play thinking that would earn me a chance to switch to looking in on the horses later. Getting down on my hands and knees in the front yard, Asher and I wrestled hard as he challenged me to take away the variety of balls he would bring my way.
Whenever I got a free ball, I would throw it as far as possible for him to chase. After he pounced on it and turned toward me in a crouch, I would provoke him from afar which would trigger him to charge toward me at full speed. That enabled me to practice my best evasive moves at the very last minute to avoid a collision.
It really helps to be able to see him coming.
When I made it out to check on the horses, they were milling about in the paddock. As I was making my way toward Light there was some movement among all the horses and Mia started backing toward me. I assumed she was just making space for Light who was in front of her. As I adjusted my position to come around in front of Mia to approach Light, Mia pinned her ears back.
I was the only one near her and that signal, combined with the backing toward me a second earlier, helped to clarify who she was “talking” to. I don’t think she wanted me bothering Light at all, whether I had good intentions or not.
She didn’t need to tell me a third time. I retreated to the other side of the gates at the overhang and watched from a distance. Mia stayed beside light as they slowly made their way toward the far side of the large paddock.
Later, as I was coiling up hoses in front of the barn, I kept hearing one of the horses let out a scratchy squeal. I guessed it was coming from Light but never witnessed it.
Mia and Mix were in view, so I knew it wasn’t them. When I stepped around the corner to look, Swings and Light were just standing there like nothing was going on. Light may be going into her heat cycle, in which case I will give her all the space she needs.
I’m impressed and rather pleased to see that Mia –notoriously the lowest-ranking member of the herd– was stepping up to control activity for once and not just reacting to what was going on around her.
That doesn’t mean I gave her a free pass when she nipped at my glove as I held it out for her to sniff as I was picking up empty feed pans later. That was just being unnecessarily snooty on her part. Too bad I can’t wrestle the horses like I do Asher.
By the way, he doesn’t get any free passes from me, either. I can’t let him win all the time or he’ll think he’s the boss of me.
I mean, I know he is, but I don’t want him to think that I know he is.
.
.
Recycling Quest
Almost daily, two 6-foot lengths of polypropylene twine around a hay bale are getting cut in our barn and instantly become waste. That’s just at our place. Imagine how many get cut in the rest of the county and all the horse properties around the state. It does not feel right to me to have this end up in a landfill somewhere, or worse, forever floating in an ocean.
I checked locally for an option to recycle our accumulation of cut-up plastic twine and learned it isn’t financially feasible. The volume of twine that would need to be collected would end up costing more in handling than could be recovered if and when they could find a potentially interested party to accept it. The person I spoke with at our county encouraged me to search wider on the internet for other possibilities.
I thought I was searching for other collection options but I soon discovered a variety of ways other people were crafting uses for plastic bags and used bale twine.
To my skilled sisters, I thought you might appreciate how this person spins HDPE grocery bags into a cord that can then be knitted or crocheted into useful items:
.
.
For bale twine, I was inspired by this video of uses that benefits horses:
.
.
I started experimenting with braiding because the posts supporting our overhang often have horse hair caught in the splinters of the wood. Wrapping the posts with messy braids of plastic twine will be a great enhancement the horses can rub against with abandon.
It will require a LOT more braiding, but for each length of twine I can reuse, that’s one less ending up as trash.
.
.
Self Braided
Two of our four horses have a habit of repeatedly getting their manes tangled into braided snarls. Since none of the four have shown interest in standing still to receive grooming, I have done nothing to interrupt the development of the tangles Mix and Mia have been developing for the last four months.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
They seem to bother me more than they do the horses. I asked the folks of “This Old Horse” if they thought the horses minded having those tangles. In their impression, the answer was basically, “No.” That triggered my decision to just leave their manes alone.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I’m thinking the fix, if and when it might happen, may involve scissors more than a brush or comb. I also believe it will be a two-person project so that one person (John) can occupy the horse’s attention while the other (Cyndie) does the detangling. Most likely, treats will be offered as part of the process.
The only downside I see of combing out their manes for Mix and Mia is that it won’t last. They have proven their natural talent for self-braiding often enough for us to know the tangles will likely continue to reappear. The prevention for that will come when those two decide they like having their manes combed out. As soon as that happens, we will be happy to groom them regularly and often.
It’s up to them. They are the ones who will show us whether the tangles bother them or not.
I wonder if the only reason Swings and Light don’t develop tangles in their manes is because they don’t like their manes getting messed up.
As the old saying goes, if it hurts when you do “something” then stop doing it.
Based on that, I have no problem accepting that Mix and Mia don’t care about the tangles at all.
.
.
Unpleasant Surprise
In all the years we have been keeping horses on our property, I’ve never had to deal with the situation I found yesterday morning under the overhang. There was no sign of anything out of order when I opened the door from inside the barn. While the horses calmly waited, I started on the north end with my usual housekeeping tasks.
Coming around to the south end, I moved past Swings and got startled by the sight of a furry animal curled up as if napping against the wall beneath a hay bag. It was difficult to see the head but the tail was a dead giveaway for a raccoon. I could clearly see the movement of breaths but no other evidence of its condition.
The thought crossed my mind that a startled horse could have kicked out at an intruder and led to one knocked-out raccoon. The varmint was also laying next to a mineral block meant for the horses. I wondered if the bandit had simply gorged until overfilled and conked out right there. That was a lot less likely.
I decided to just let it “sleep” while I carried on with my business. At one point, I saw that Swings went over and sniffed at it with what looked to be empathy, so it wasn’t like the horses didn’t realize it was there.
After setting out the feed pans for the horses, I dashed back to the house for preparations to euthanize the critter. When I returned, I moved the horses to the other side and closed the gates so I could take care of things with them out of the way.
There was nothing in my life instruction manual about dealing with this kind of thing. It wasn’t what I signed on for when I agreed to feed and clean up after the horses. But you do what you gotta do.
The poor critter was unceremoniously picked up by the tail and dropped into an empty feed bag that I put into another empty feed bag for disposal in the trash. Not knowing if other health concerns contributed to the sorry state I found it in initially, I chose to keep the remains out of reach of any scavengers.
I did decide to dispose of that mineral block, as well. The horses had never really shown much interest in it and if it was starting to attract other animals, it was doing more harm than good.
Every day is an adventure. I’m grateful the horses took it all in stride and my hassle of having to deal with the unpleasant surprise was hardly a blip in the morning routine.
It would be just fine with me if we could have another ten years or more without needing to repeat this routine again.
.
.
Relative Something 