Posts Tagged ‘horse behavior’
Melting Swiftly
The warmth we enjoyed yesterday contributed to some satisfying progress on several fronts. Getting the blankets off the horses in the morning was a good start. Mia has become our new inspiration, having transformed from the most timid and least confident to a master of her domain.
She clearly proved she didn’t need the extra protection of a blanket through the snowstorm. I’m hoping that I may have earned a new level of respect from her for having never forced my wishes during my many attempts to entice her cooperation in being covered.
As the afternoon grew warmer and warmer, we got outside to give the horses some extra attention. Cyndie gave the automatic waterer a much-needed thorough cleaning after months of only partial cleanings in the cold. She was also able to detangle the manes of Mix and Swings.
I opened the door of the shop garage and easily started the Grizzly ATV after two days of unsuccessful attempts. A fresh example that sometimes trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results can actually work out.
Back in the house, we succeeded in completing our taxes and electronically filing our returns.
The melting snow on the back deck took on a fascinating texture we aren’t seeing anywhere else. We have no idea what is causing that. It looks like someone spilled a load of marshmallows.
The strangely shaped drift off the roof outside our bathroom window continues to grab our attention. I took a few pictures to show the changes over time.
While water appeared to be flowing everywhere, we didn’t see any obvious flow in all the drainage ditches on our property yet.
I’m guessing that will change today.
It’s getting hard to pick what boots to wear, due to the depth of remaining snow that is now mostly saturated with liquid water. My best wet boots are not tall enough, and my tall boots aren’t the best for being submerged in water.
The meltwater draining off the roof yesterday changed from drips to constant streams by mid-afternoon. Even though there was at least a foot of snow here from that storm, I don’t think it will last very long against the high angle of the sun and the warm temperatures.
That’s just fine with me. The sooner it all disappears, the sooner I can begin cutting up the trees that the storm brought down across our trails in the woods.
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Unnecessary Roughness
I’m throwing a penalty flag on the weather for unnecessary roughness. I don’t know what forecast model Mia uses to make her decisions, but the ones I was reviewing last night looked unfairly brutal. When Asher and I headed out to feed the horses late in the afternoon yesterday, precipitation was just starting to fall. It was coming down mostly as snow, but very wet and sticky snow.
The bigger problem was the angry wind pushing those icy crystals sideways with gusts over 30 mph.
I tried three different times yesterday to sweet-talk Mia into accepting a blanket, but I failed every time. She wasn’t buying my sales pitch. I even tried enlisting the help of Mix and Light in coercing her cooperation, but Mia ran from their attention just like she did from me.
That picture above shows the typical fracture in the herd these days. Mia is the odd horse out, per usual.
As Asher and I were making our way back toward the house, I spotted that Mia had lain down for a rest at the top of the rise.
She certainly doesn’t show any signs of being stressed to be the loner. Instead, I’d describe her as showing a growing confidence in being independent of the others.
I just hope she knows what she is up against with these two spring storms barreling over us between last night and next Monday. There wasn’t a lot of snow accumulation by the time I went to bed last night, but the wind was pretty fierce. It sounds like that will be the easier of the two events.
Sunday will be bringing a lot more snow. Around a foot of accumulation is possible. Cyndie is currently scheduled to return on Monday, so I will need to prioritize clearing the driveway so she can get in. Deep snow is not a great welcome home when returning from Florida.
I imagine she might consider that a case of unnecessary weather roughness.
She’ll get no argument from me.
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Mia’s Resistance
It’s hard to help a horse that doesn’t want to be helped. In this case, it’s our sweet little mare Mia who repeatedly shunned our attempts to provide a little extra protection against the elements. For some undetermined reason, Mia is becoming something of a diva, despite continuing to be firmly established at the bottom of the herd hierarchy.
Last Friday, when we were haltering horses for their session with the farrier, Mia held out until the very end and even then, resisted with aggressive gestures of biting and posturing for a kick before Maddy got her haltered. Well, she behaved the same way again for us yesterday afternoon when we were attempting to put rain sheets on all of them.
With Cyndie gone, I asked Maddy for help figuring out which sheet would best fit each horse. She made short work of covering Light, Swings, and Mix, all of whom stood calmly while getting blanketed. Light even patiently allowed the process to happen twice, after Maddy changed her mind and switched to a different sheet.
Mia stands alone on the hill of the hay field while the others are eating the afternoon servings of feed under the overhang.
After those three were done, all we needed to do was convince Mia that she should be covered, too. Historically, she is the one most needing a blanket when conditions get wet. She emphatically resisted our every attempt.
Despite patiently trying to outwait her objections and ply her with treats to coax her cooperation, we ended up leaving her to fend for herself against the coming precipitation because she never ceased her aggression.
I wish I could understand what her gripe is.
Still feeling like there might be some hope, I tried on my own one last time after Maddy left. Mia’s attitude didn’t change a bit.
There was one more trick up my sleeve, though. I called our friend, Michelle, who lives relatively close and has a special relationship with Mia, thinking she might get through to the stubborn mare.
Nope. Michelle reported that she had briefly visited on Sunday to see Mia and was treated badly with those same aggressive behaviors —and she had no agenda at the time other than to say hello.
After dark, when I took Asher out for one last chance to pee for the night, I decided to give Mia one more opportunity to accept a rain sheet, more for my sake at that point than for hers. She immediately walked out into the hay field. I went so far as to walk through the muck of standing water at the bottom of the paddock to follow her, in case being out in the open, away from all the other horses, might soften her resistance.
It didn’t.
I hope she doesn’t suffer as a result of her decisions. It’s heartbreaking to be unable to help, even though I tried so many times.
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Muddy Mia
In the middle of my housekeeping task under the barn overhang yesterday afternoon, I suddenly heard great splashing sounds. I had to step around the three horses surrounding me to see what was going on. It was Mia. She decided to go swimming in Paddock Lake before their dinner.
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She came right up afterwards, but oddly showed no patience for eating feed out of a bucket. She wandered out into the back pasture. She has always been sort of the odd horse out of the herd, but lately, Mia is behaving like quite the loner. The other three appear to be just fine with that and show little stress over her frequent solo departures.
I left her bucket hanging in the usual spot and went about my business. Eventually, I spotted her back to have a bite or two, but she didn’t stay. It has me missing the days when they voraciously gobbled every last morsel of their servings. There is something unsettling about animals choosing not to eat food served to them.
Mia’s mud bath appears to be just the beginning of the messiness awaiting us in the days ahead. We’ve enjoyed two days without new precipitation, and while many areas are wetter than ever, the high ground shows a hint of drying out.
I’ve grown fond of being able to see where we are stepping on walks recently, but the next few days look like the ground could be covered with snow again. Slushy snow, one source predicts. That hint of drying out will soon be a thing of the past.
Oh, joy.
Look at that! John is showing signs of losing his passion for all things snow-related.
I must be getting old.
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Ice Outed
The persistent puddle that I light-heartedly refer to as “Paddock Lake” is ice-free this morning. I’m afraid that judges were unable to conclude whether the ice-out date was March 6 or March 7 due to the dangerous lightning conditions last night, keeping intelligent people indoors during the thunderstorm that rolled through.
At 11:21 a.m. yesterday, it looked like this:
I found Swings and Light soaking wet when I came out, so I gave the puddle a closer inspection and discovered evidence that they had been playing their splashing game. Surprisingly, they hadn’t destroyed all the ice.
By 4:35 p.m., it looked like this:
The silt the horses had stirred up had yet to settle out, but it was an overcast day, leaving plenty of ice still visible.
I don’t know how much rain fell with the storm that arrived around 10:30 p.m., but it was audible on the roof and left things wet this morning. By the time I dragged myself out of bed to walk Asher, light snow was beginning to fall.
At 7:31 a.m., this is what I found:
While we were down at the barn, the snow got so heavy that we received an inch in less than half an hour.
The ice is gone, but now snow is covering everything again. It won’t last long. The forecast indicates we could reach 60°F tomorrow. Spring-like weather around these parts.
Anyone want to guess when we will lose another tree due to violent weather? Michigan sure got a gut punch yesterday with the surprisingly early tornado this far north. The storm chasers had their eyes on Texas and Oklahoma.
It gives me an uneasy feeling about the odds of increasingly intense storms unleashing damage to our paradise.
Every day that we escape negative impacts is a blessing to be celebrated. The quick March snowstorm this morning was rather adorable.
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Sounds Matter
Of all the night sounds reverberating throughout our woods –coyotes howling, raccoons arguing, rabbits getting caught– I cherish the conversations of owls more than anything. Last night, I took Asher for an extra walk in the dark because he had patiently slept through the entire length of the documentary, “Cover-Up,” about investigative journalist Seymour Hersh.
Asher deserved a last bit of exercise before entering his crate for the night. We probably walked right beneath the owl that began loudly revealing his presence after we got back inside the house. I like to think they are using their night vision to supervise the goings on of all the nocturnals around here.
Asher is not particular about where he decides to rest his head. The height of the bottom shelf of the coffee table worked out just fine the other night.
More often than not, he demonstrates that no pillow is required for slumber.
Asher was incredibly patient with being confined to the barn and the limited space under the overhang yesterday, while I worked longer than normal to tidy the grounds of accumulated hay scraps dropped by the mares. We are anticipating a visit from Maddy and the Farrier, Ralph, sometime this morning.
From Florida, Cyndie texted Maddy to share concerns we have about how Mix is doing. I had sent Cyndie a picture of the fence post Mix was biting as if it were an apple.
It’s possible she’s just bored, but her stiff movement and other behaviors might be signaling Mix is dealing with some pain. We are already suspecting she has some arthritis in her joints, and are giving her a daily pain med to treat that.
I don’t see how they can be bored with the ice on Paddock Lake shrinking right before their eyes.
Lost in my own thoughts yesterday, I startled all four of the horses as I was rolling the empty trash bin back from the end of the driveway. They mostly ignore the familiar sound of the plastic wheels rolling on the asphalt, although Mia still always picks her head up to stare as if she’s unsure whether it’s a threat or not.
My normal behavior would be to roll the bin on the pavement beyond the hay shed and then park it there while I walk to the barn to deal with chores. However, my mind was somewhere else when I reached the gravel on the front side of the hay shed and followed Asher toward the barn.
The quiet rolling wheels suddenly changed to a raucous clamor on the gravel that sent the horses scrambling in an emergency response drill. I was so distracted that it was the reaction of the horses that jarred me back to reality, and not the sudden noise the bin was making.
Horses provide plenty of opportunities to help keep us attuned to the present moment. Always remember, sounds matter.
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Horse Raincoats
While our thermometers were reading temperatures in the 50s (F) yesterday, the angry-sounding wind kept it from feeling nearly that warm. Still, snow melting continued throughout the day, as well as some melting of the ground beneath. Even with that, the meltwater isn’t able to soak into the deeper layers, so the resulting hydrostatic pressure is pushing up onto the dirt floor of the barn.
With a looming threat of a chance of rain, we decided to put raincoats on the horses. Three of them accepted it without a fuss.
Mia chose to be totally noncompliant. After a few objections, where Mia just moved away each time Cyndie approached, Cyndie got the sheet tossed over Mia’s back. Before we could connect any of the fasteners, Mia took off down the slope in the paddock, kicked the sheet off, stomped on it once for good measure, and took a few steps beyond it.
After retrieving the now-wet sheet, Cyndie came out with a different blanket and a lead rope to toss over Mia’s neck. While Cyndie held Mia in place with the lead rope, I draped the blanket over Mia’s back.
Mission accomplished. Let it rain.
It’ll be great. Most of the ground is still frozen, so the water will push up inside the barn and erode new pathways across surfaces toward the drainage swales.
The bigger drama while we were down there tending to the horses was the wind. Strong winds automatically ratchet up the horses’ anxiety level.
While Cyndie was filling feed buckets and I was scooping poop, a gust of wind pushed open one of the gates we had positioned to block the alleyway. I looked up to find Light about to walk inside the barn. That got the other horses worked up when they noticed Light was in unauthorized territory.
Cyndie emerged with hands busy holding feed buckets and met Light face-to-face. Light didn’t automatically want to back up, and I couldn’t swing the gate back until she did, so we had a moment of pre-catastrophe concern. We all remained almost calm. Ignoring the gusting wind for a moment, I took buckets for Mix and Mia and got them situated on their side while Cyndie coaxed Light to turn herself around and get back on her correct side of the fence.
It’s a little like Olympic figure skating. You never know what is going to happen, but don’t be surprised when the results don’t turn out as expected. In the end, everyone gets to take a big cleansing breath, accept the outcomes, and move on to the next challenge.
I’m looking forward to the Olympic men’s and women’s Ice Hockey elimination games for the next few days. You never know how that puck might bounce. I’m hoping it’s in our team’s favor.
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Old Horses
Even though the racing world considers January 1st the birthday for all Thoroughbreds, we still know the actual date our horses were foaled. Today, February 13th, is Mia’s real birthday. She was born in the year 2000.
Our friend, Michelle, is planning to stop by with a treat for the birthday girl later this afternoon.
All four of the horses have been pleasantly mellow lately, and we have been thoroughly enjoying their peaceful spirits.
As we lingered with the mares after feeding them yesterday morning, Cyndie and I remembered the descriptions of the desperate situation Light had been rescued from (twice!), and the level of food insecurity three of them had endured. The most critical of their physical health concerns had been addressed before they were brought to Wintervale, but their residual trauma still lingered large in the first months after they arrived.
The first day they were with us, we found them standing together in the middle of the small paddock, and even fresh apple slices we offered didn’t entice them to greet us. It looked to me like they were showing us that they had had enough of human interaction. This location was just another stop on a lifetime of being trailered to places they were forced to run, places they were forced to be bred, or eventually, to places they were neglected to near starvation.
Swings began to repeatedly pace back and forth along the paddock fence anxiously. Mix would lash out when a horse or human got too close during feeding times. Mix is also the one to react in panic whenever we’ve tried enclosing them inside the barn stalls. When we set out pans of feed for them, they rarely stayed in place, setting off a “musical chairs” rotation of moving from one pan to another to eat each other’s serving.
Over a period of years, we’ve enjoyed the blessing of witnessing their behaviors gradually normalizing as they rediscover their true equine nature.
They are so much more comfortable in their horse-ness these days. We have learned plenty along the way, adjusting our care as their responses dictate. Long ago, we ditched feed pans for buckets we hang at feeding time, always following a set pattern that positions each horse in a specific location.
Now, each time they calmly take up their positions before we bring the filled buckets out, it brings us such a feeling of appreciation. Giving them open access to the fields most of the time allows us to enjoy them choosing to stay by the security of the barn overhang or journeying out to the far reaches of the fields, depending on their whim.
On the eve of the big day of lavishing Valentine’s love on those you hold close to your hearts, I’d like to offer you a way to show some love to horses being rescued by the private, volunteer-based non-profit organization, This Old Horse, through a link to their donation page:
DONATE
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We donate our fields, facilities, and time and labor caring for Swings, Mia, Light, & Mix, but This Old Horse covers the costs of hay and feed, maintaining their hooves, routine checkups, and as-needed vet visits. If you have it in your heart to help give horses a chance to live out their days with dignity and surrounded by love, this is a truly deserving organization. ❤️
Oh, and tip your hat to our Mia as she reaches 26 years old today! Momma Mia!
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Big Wings
A slow disappearance of snow is happening right before our eyes this week, despite the sky being mostly cloudy. Each morning, we find ourselves surprised by the appearance of more exposed ground.
Yesterday morning, we had an eagle soar just above our heads on our walk to feed the horses. The herd was milling around just outside the large paddock, and the arrival of the large wingspan so close overhead unnerved Light and sent her running back inside the wooden fence line.
The eagle looped around and landed on the high point of the hay field, quickly revealing that a field critter was about to be breakfast. Instead of running away, Mia took a few steps toward the regal raptor and stared confidently. It looked to us like she was flaunting her absence of intimidation from the great predator.
Asher was oblivious to it all, keeping his attention to the ground where the residual scent of all the nocturnal wildlife activity that had occurred the night before still lingered.
I have watched eagles soaring so far above our land that they look like a little dot in the sky that becomes invisible if you look away, and then try to find it again. Having them also fly so close that you can almost reach up and touch them is a memorable experience.
The wing pattern in yesterday’s Words on Images post was made by a much smaller wing than that of the eagle in our hay field, but it was in the snow near the top of that same hill.
This theme of wings is a recurring one this week. A couple of days ago, as Asher and I were strolling past the old chicken coop, our arrival flushed an owl out of the branches right over our heads. I had no idea it was there until the whoosh of its departure. It soared straight away from us, and I was granted a clean view of the graceful motion of a grand wingspan propelling the bird through the air.
The bounty of walking among these revered winged creatures leaves me feeling a little small as I plod along the packed snow of our frequently traveled pathways, but it also fills me with an appreciation for being able to share space with them.
It serves as a reminder to look up more often to see what might be perched in the branches overhead.
Rarely are we ever as alone as I sometimes feel on these rural acres.
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Silent Communication
The morning started out like most every other with a walk through the woods with Asher that brought us to the barn to feed the horses. Cyndie put out feed buckets, and I wandered around cleaning up manure. Then Mia walked away from her bucket and made her way over to where I was working.
The fact that she walked away before eating everything in the bucket wasn’t something new for her. Neither was the fact that she approached me, really, even though she is the least social most of the time. Mia lives in her own world to a degree, and we are getting used to her acting on a unique agenda.
Something about her behavior yesterday morning struck me differently. I paused what I was doing and stood waiting to see what she would do next. Mia moved her body so close to mine that I could touch my forehead to her side with barely a lean.
The sound of her digestive process was rumbling beneath her blanket. She was completely calm. I quieted my mind and longed to perceive something she might be telling me.
I got nothing.
When I tried putting a hand under her blanket to check her warmth, she let me know that wasn’t welcome with a turn of her head and her characteristic nip at the air. When she moved again to leave me standing squarely behind her, I opted to go back to what I was doing.
I wasn’t able to shake the feeling that she was silently communicating something to me, so when I finished all my tasks, I returned to where she was standing, leaving enough space to show respect. Mia looked my way, noticed I was without any tools, and returned her head to look forward.
She was definitely operating on her own terms. Eventually, while I stood silently nearby, she slowly moved her body so that she was right up against me again. I willed myself to sense something physically in my body or a thought or vision in my mind.
I got nothing.
Whatever Mia might have been telling me, I wasn’t picking it up. When I finally wandered away toward the house for breakfast, I was left with a feeling that we had shared something, even though I had no idea what.
Maybe she was merely giving me credit for trying.
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Relative Something 