Posts Tagged ‘feeding horses’
Snow Maybe
It’s close. We can see it on the weather radar. Our county is under a Winter Weather Advisory today as a snow system is slowly making its way across our region from west to east. It appears that the bulk of the impact will be to our south, which puts us in the “maybe” category regarding the amount of accumulated snow we will need to shovel or plow.
Just in case it piles up, I spent some time yesterday pulling the plow blade from the back of the garage and getting it mounted on the Grizzly.
It took ‘some time’ because the long arms of the mounting frame, combined with the weight and width of the blade, make it rather unwieldy to maneuver.
The real problem lies in the fact that I can almost move it sufficiently all on my own, so I am too often inclined to try. Yesterday’s effort bordered on ridiculous and held potential for several troublesome failures as I wrestled it around a variety of obstacles to get it to the front of the ATV. Ultimately, I accomplished it without incident.
Once there, I needed to envision a creative way to connect the hook and winch cable that lifts the blade, since the cobbled method from last winter proved to be ill-advised. I’m not confident that my latest iteration will be adequate, but it’s a start.
If history serves as a guide, I will be forced to revise the setup when it fails in the dark, when it is cold, and I am in the middle of a huge plowing effort. That’s always a great time to work on kludged solutions.
Since yesterday’s weather was a perfect calm before the storm type of day, I decided to move a fresh batch of bales from the hay shed to the barn. Upon opening the big door of the hay shed, the aroma of moldy hay was becoming too prominent to ignore.
Our several-year-old ploy of leaving old bales as a base layer on which we stack new hay needs a change. Cyndie swept down cobwebs while we contemplated the effort it will take to remove the nasty bales.
The first challenge will be that the twine will likely have degraded to a point of failure when we try to pick up the bales. The second challenge is where we will dispose of the moldy mass. I may or may not dabble in the project while beautiful flakes are floating down this afternoon.
Light was keeping an eye on the distant horizon between mouthfuls of her feed this morning. The insulating property of her winter growth is visible in the snow that doesn’t melt on her back.
She looks so gorgeous, it’s hard to fathom how skinny she was when rescued as a starving momma in a kill pen in Kansas years back. The tips of her mane look like she has them colored at some fancy salon.
These horses deserve to be fed the best hay we can find, and to keep it stored in a way that keeps it fresh until the last bottom bale is reached.
Cleaning the hay shed today will be a labor of love.
.
.
Different Perspectives
Some horses get no respect.
That is Mia’s placemat. It’s hard not to interpret this scene as having been done intentionally. Especially because it tends to happen with some regularity. I’ll be embarrassed if I find out that it’s Mia who is doing it. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her sending a message that she doesn’t like that spot.
We know she prefers being at the nook just beyond the overhang, but when it rains, we specifically don’t want her standing out in it. For the most part, she copes well enough there.
My gut tells me it’s other horses soiling her mat, but I have no idea whether any message is intended. As a general rule, their distribution of manure is pretty random. I have always thought that animals had a natural aversion to pooping where they eat. These horses long ago learned that I pick it all up, no matter where they dump it, so maybe they figure it’s not something they need to concern themselves with.
I took a couple of photos yesterday to share that we have a tree showing signs of color in its outer leaves, and Asher was supervising my mowing job. When I looked at them on my computer screen, I noticed something interesting about the way the hay shed looks.
From that view, it appears to be tipped backwards. Perspective is everything.
Same hay shed from a different angle. Straight up. And color showing up on the fringes of the maple tree!
Maybe perspective explains the horse apples landing on Mia’s placemat. It could be that the horses just don’t see it from their angle.
.
.
Not Solved
It was probably wishful thinking on my part to believe the barking dog issue was permanently solved.
3 a.m.
4 a.m.
5 a.m.
Then it stopped. In my semi-conscious wish to be still asleep, I imagined maybe the closer neighbor had reached their limit and called for official intervention in the predawn darkness when spiders are manically spinning spectacular orb webs.
At 6:11, it started again. Poor dog. Doesn’t take a breath between yips anymore. Just constantly screams for something.
If the cops got them to bring the dog inside, it only lasted for a short time after they’d left. Of course, this is all my addled, sleep-interrupted mind making up one scenario. It’s equally possible the dog just got tired and shut up for a spell.
Since we live out of sight from the source of this angst, I don’t have a vision of where this dog is located while endlessly yapping for attention.
In supreme contrast, I walked pleasantly with Asher through our woods and on to the barn, where the horses were serene as could be. They appear to find the new senior feed much to their liking compared to the corn and oats that were being served prior. We have completed the transition, and they get 100% processed pellets.
They gobble it up much more quickly, licking the buckets clean and spilling much less on their placemats.
We are looking forward to having less “food” lying all around for the critter pests that consider the area around the overhang to be their free buffet.
The senior feed looks to be a change that does solve at least a couple of issues for us. The distant neighbor’s barking dog problem remains a work in progress.
.
.
New Volunteers
Last night we found ourselves on something of a little home vacation. On the cusp of Labor Day weekend, we have successfully enlisted full coverage for the horses with volunteers from This Old Horse (TOH). Also, Asher is on an extended visit to the facility of one of our favorite trainers.
We were home but didn’t have any animal responsibilities. Of course, that didn’t stop Cyndie from checking on the barn after dinner so she could drop off some freshly-baked cookies as treats for the different volunteers who will be stopping by over the next few days.
After an extended period of time had passed before her return, I turned on the surveillance camera to see what was up. How long does it take to drop off some treats? I got my answer.
There she was in her dress and sandals, doing some additional housekeeping around the overhang.
This morning, the feeding will be done by a first-timer whom I just provided an orientation session to on Wednesday. Cyndie didn’t want the person to find the place looking less than its very best.
We provided orientation sessions to two new volunteers recently, and both of them asked if they needed to wash the feed buckets after collecting them. Of all the things we are considerably fastidious about, on that one, not so much. However, since they both asked, I got the impression that is how it is done at other TOH barns.
I washed out the buckets after the horses finished eating yesterday morning.
Tomorrow, I head out for a week of biking in South Dakota, and Cyndie heads up to the lake place. There will be four different people covering the morning and afternoon feedings through Labor Day. It will be interesting for us to see how things go, since we haven’t had TOH volunteer support for this many days in a row before.
Personally, I’ll be surprised if any of them tidy up to the degree we like to maintain. Both Cyndie and I can be a little compulsive about it. I’ll be the first to admit it. I like the way a well-kept place looks.
.
.
Missing Spoon
This is why we can’t have nice things. I was mucking manure from the sloppy mud just beyond the roof line of the overhang when Cyndie stepped out of the barn to ask if I had taken the wooden spoon.
My answer was, “What?” because every exchange between us now always starts with the second person needing questions repeated.
Why would I take the wooden spoon? We keep a cup and spoon by the water spigot in the barn for wetting down the incredibly dusty, cracked grains we put out in buckets for the horses. It was missing.
We both separately searched high and low inside the barn to no avail. What critter would abscond with a long-handled wooden spoon? There was probably a small amount of grain residue stuck to the shallow bowl, but that seems like a paltry treasure worth hauling away.
We have several burrowing pests in addition to the cats and possibly raccoons that make themselves at home in and around the barn. I don’t know if the spoon was moved outside of the barn or if it might have been stashed inside somewhere. There are plenty of nooks and crannies where it could end up out of sight.
I’d rather not start moving every item stored within to look beneath it, but I have a compelling urge not to let the thief win. I hate getting outsmarted by pestering critters.
Cyndie has already selected a replacement spoon from the kitchen. I suggested she attach a tether with an awkwardly large bauble on it, as is done for gas station bathroom keys.
Actually, I’d like to put an alligator clip and wire so we can connect it to the hot wire of our electric fence after each use. That’d send a message. I know better than to do that, though. The most likely one to receive that message would end up being my lovely wife.
Critters – 1 … Humans – 0.
.
.
Asserting Myself
It is rare that I feel a need to get aggressive with the horses. Yesterday morning was one of those rare moments. To do this story justice, a little background should be understood, so please bear with me as I prepare the scene.
First off, the wooden fenced area we refer to as the paddocks can be split in two by closing gates. Two of our horses get a larger serving of grain than the others, so we pair them up with Mix and Mia on the small paddock side of the barn overhang and Light and Swings on the large side.
They understand the routine well enough that if they aren’t already in the designated positions when we emerge from the barn with feed buckets, they usually adjust in short order. Up at the overhang, there is a short alleyway between the two paddocks that is passable most of the time. When they are in position to be served grain, we swing two gates 90 degrees to block the alleyway.
Since we will be moving in and out of each side multiple times, usually with our hands occupied, it helps if we don’t need to secure the gates with chains each time. To solve that, we conveniently park the wheelbarrow across the alleyway between the two gates so the horses can’t cross, but we can step our skinny little selves around the gates with minimal difficulty.
Mix and Light in a rare moment of sharing a hay net as if they were BFFs. Whaaat!? Not usually.
I’m usually busy filling the wheelbarrow with manure at this point while Cyndie is serving feed buckets and filling hay nets.
Are you with me so far?
One more thing: each paddock has a gate to the hay field that we leave open. If they want to, the horses can get to the other side when we have the alleyway blocked by walking down past the waterer, out one gate and in the other to disturb the horses eating on the other side. It’s not usually an issue these days because they tend to remain occupied with their own buckets, and walking all the way around isn’t really worth the effort.
It all works like a charm until the horses decide they have a different agenda.
I’ve been on my own for a week, and the horses are well aware of my routine. They’ve been patient with my being able to only do one thing at a time. When I popped out of the barn for the first time, they were all in the right spots for feeding, so I closed the alleyway, cleaned off their placemats, and went inside to prepare the buckets of grain.
When I emerged again, Light and Swings had taken that long trek down and around to now be standing on the wrong side and in the way of Mix and Mia. A power move, for sure, but I was not going to help them at all. I served their grain buckets in the regular spots and left Mix and Mia’s on the ground by the door. All the four horses could do was stare at the grain in frustration.
Light and Swings didn’t take the hint and stood their ground defiantly, so I just busied myself sprucing up their side and filling their hay nets while horses fussed. I was not about to re-open that alleyway for them. They chose to go down and around; I felt they should go back the way they came if they wanted to eat.
When I ran out of things to do, I decided to help them understand what we were all waiting for. I stepped around the gate and energetically pushed them to get the heck out of there and go around. All four horses got riled up at this dance, but it was very easy for Mix and Mia to see that they were not at fault as my attention remained solely on the other two.
It took a couple of loops down around the dying willow and back up before Swings and Light figured out they could get away from my pressure by going through the gate I was directing them toward. As soon as they did, I served Mix and Mia their buckets, and in a blink, everyone was calm and back to grazing.
I think I successfully made my point. For the record, no shenanigans occurred at the evening feeding. ‘Nuff said.
.
.
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.
.
.
Poop Watch
The temperature has climbed above the negative numbers (F) for a couple of days, which should give the horses a break from their stoic stance against the bite of the deep freeze. We are hoping that will help Mia reclaim her usual appetite and spunk.
When the direct rays of sunshine arrived, Swings assumed the broadside position to absorb as much solar energy as possible.
The collection of frost at the top of her tail reveals the coldness of the air in the crystalizing of the moisture from a certain part of her anatomy. One might say it betrays her dignity.
The pigeons were all in on the idea of soaking up the morning rays.
They were occupying themselves with preening their feathers and puffing themselves up for maximum insulating value.
Once again, Mia did not show her normal interest in food and was now doing a little more pawing of the ground, which is an indication of discomfort. We were told to contact the vet. Around 11:00, the Doc showed up and assessed Mia was possibly dealing with an impaction to some degree.
I had witnessed a healthy poop earlier, and Cyndie reported Mia pooped again while the vet was there, so that showed the output was working. To help from the input side, the vet sedated Mia to get a tube down her throat and gave her a lot of water and a dose of laxative. Mia has been isolated in the smaller paddock, where we can control her food and see how much she poops.
She pooped a third time in the middle of the afternoon, but that would be sooner than we anticipated seeing results from the vet visit. We provided water in an electrically heated bucket under her half of the overhang, fed her some grain soaked in water, and offered her wet hay. She seemed pretty hungry and gobbled the wetted grain. That alone is a big change in her level of interest in food in the last two days.
When we get down to the barn this morning, the big question will be how much poop is in her paddock. Having her isolated is a great way to know for sure who is responsible for all the messes I need to clean up.
I have to admit, it’s not often I get to boast about being excited to find a lot of shit on the ground when we show up to feed the horses.
.
.
Mia’s Malaise
Someone left the freezer door open on the planet, and our air is feeling rather Arctic again. Yesterday morning, I took some pictures of Mix because her eyelashes looked like she was wearing white mascara.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It stayed cold all day, but the sun was shining, and the horses all appeared to be coping with it as well as they usually do. However, when we showed up to serve the second feeding of the day as the sun was setting, Mia wasn’t her typical self. As the other three moved into position near the overhang, Mia stood motionless, facing out toward the hay field.
We called out a few invitations to join us, but she showed no interest. When all the buckets were hung and the other three horses were eating, Cyndie started toward Mia, and Mia turned to make her way slowly up. It’s not uncharacteristic that the other horses display some attitude toward Mia but it doesn’t ever seem fair that they emphatically dis her when she obviously doesn’t feel well.
Mix would not leave Mia alone as Mia was headed toward her bucket of grains, so Cyndie unclipped the bucket and held it for Mia to eat, which she slowly did without her normal zest. Thinking the cold might be getting to her, we got her blanket out and she let us cover her up without a fuss. The lack of objection is also unusual.
What bothered me the most was how she simply stood in place when I finally moved the bucket back to her placemat. She showed no energy and no sign of wanting to eat hay for the internal warmth it would provide.
When we got back to the house, Cyndie checked with Johanne, our handler from “This Old Horse” and she recommended a dose of Banamine. Cyndie and I headed back down and administered the pain reliever, which Mia accepted without complaint. I wondered, “Where’d the Mia I used to know go?”
It was sad to see her so lifeless. I adjusted the camera on the spot where she remained standing so we could keep an eye on her. It didn’t take long before I noticed she had disappeared from view. I eased the camera around and found her eating from a hay bag.
She was back!
We followed the horses for most of the evening on the surveillance camera and saw Mia eating hay a good percentage of the time. To our surprise, we also picked up 3 or 4 small canines (foxes? coyotes? too hard to discern) romping around. Didn’t seem to bother the horses.
Based on the tracks frequently visible in the paddock, I suspect they visit often enough that the horses are unperturbed by the activity.
Now, due to an even colder weather forecast for next week, we plan to blanket the other three horses very soon. Hopefully, Mia will be feeling better by the time that test of stamina gets here.
.
.
Holiday Socializing
Cyndie and I did the old back-and-forth routine again this Christmas, starting with the hour-long drive to the Cities on Christmas Eve to gather with family from Cyndie’s mom’s side, then returned late to sleep at home. On Christmas morning, we fed the horses (Asher is away at a trainer’s kennel for a week) and then drove back to her mom’s for the classic Friswold breakfast and an opening of gifts exchanged.
From there, we drove home again for a brief rest in the afternoon, which allowed us a chance to feed the horses before driving back to the Cities for food and fun at her brother’s house.
Up past our bedtime for the second night in a row, stuffed beyond sensible with scrumptious foods, and buzzing from the precious energy of socializing with people we love so dearly, we hopped in the car one last time to drive home and crashed into our bed to sleep deeply.
I am ever so grateful that this was the only crashing we experienced because we witnessed some crazy speeding and risky maneuvering occurring on the highways yesterday. No one wishes for a traffic ticket on Christmas, but that doesn’t mean the Highway Patrol should take the day off.
It didn’t appear there was any enforcement in place during our cautious commuting, and some reckless speed demons were taking full advantage. Thankfully, road surfaces weren’t excessively slippery, and no bumpers were bumped throughout our many trips to and fro.
Every last trip was worth it for the treasure of special holiday time with our peeps. For those who love solitude, it provides a healthy reference for how nice it is to return to the calm and quiet of our own homes after periods of intense socializing.
Down in the paddocks, there was some unique social interaction going on between one particular pigeon and the horses and me.
I first noticed it walking around me as I rolled out the wheelbarrow to do some housekeeping under the overhang. It showed up on a fence board as I was sweeping off the placemats under a feed station.
When I arrived to tie a hay bag, the pigeon didn’t move away from its puffed-up position where I wanted to be. So, I took its picture.
Friendly little guy. When I stepped out of the barn with buckets of grain, it was sitting on Swings’ back. After it stayed perched there while Swings walked over to eat, I pulled out my phone to take another photo of the friendly bird.
I was too slow. It had hopped down to see if Swings was sharing any holiday cheer on the placemat below.
The rest of the pigeon flock is much more flighty about the presence of humans, but this one seemed to have no fear. Much as they tend to annoy us for the racket and mess they create, not to mention the temptations they are for Asher, I chose not to shoo this one off.
It was Christmas, after all. That wouldn’t have been in the holiday socializing spirit.
.
.
Relative Something 