Posts Tagged ‘horse behavior’
So Tired
Mentally weary and physically tired from the persistent pressure of daily rallying to convey our objections to ICE operations in Minnesota and to support friends and family in the vicinity of the attacks. This has been happening while we are simultaneously coping with the added stress of caring for our animals during the last few days of frigid temperatures.
A full night’s sleep is hampered by the lingering grief of citizens being murdered by our own government agents. We sleep because we are exhausted, but it is fitful sleep because we are in a battle for our constitutional rights.
We kept a fire burning in the fireplace yesterday, more for the mental and visual comfort it offered than for the added warmth it gave off.
During the afternoon, I cleaned snow remnants off the driveway that I’ve been ignoring since the last two dustings days ago. I barely had the energy reserves to finish what I started.
The horses seemed very distracted during the morning feeding, staring at length to the south. Eventually, I saw an electric power company utility truck pull into the neighbor’s complex of two houses and multiple outbuildings. Were the horses privy to an issue over there before the line workers even showed up? I was oblivious to whatever they were so curious about.
We haven’t suffered any power interruptions as a result of the Arctic cold. Well, not electric power, anyway.
I’m operating on my reserve tank, hoping for some morsel of good news to counter the endless doom and gloom being orchestrated out of the White House. It can be a battle for those of us who work every day to conquer depression when depressing reports of depressing actions become the order of the day.
Thank goodness for my music library and the ‘random play’ feature that offers a healthy distraction and moments of respite from harsh reality. My digitized record collection sends me love that feeds my soul. I don’t even care if it’s some form of AI algorithm behind the magic.
I know I’m too tired when I can’t be bothered to skip selections it picks that miss the mark.
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Mia Active
On a mid-morning visit to the horses during a very picturesque cloudburst of snow yesterday, I noticed Mia standing alone by the wood fence of the large paddock while the other three were up under the overhang. I decided to talk to her, calling from uphill where I was standing, inviting her and encouraging her to come up out of the snow and be with us.
She was standing with her butt towards us, but turned her head for a second to look my direction as I talked. When I turned around, Light was coming straight toward me, and I bent down to greet her, nose to nose. She paused politely for a moment, but then continued around me and went right down to stand with Mia.
Nice. While I was trying to get Mia to come to us, Light decided to meet her where she was. Works for me. I just feel bad seeing Mia looking so alone.
Next thing I know, Light is coming back, and Mia is with her! My heart swelled. I quickly grabbed some treats to show my appreciation to both of them. I took advantage of the opportunity to offer Mia a mid-day snack of Senior Feed, something the Nutritionist had suggested as an option for Mia.
I held the bucket and let Light sneak a couple of bites, too. I was enjoying seeing them being so friendly with each other.
Shortly after that rewarding interaction, Asher and I were on a walk on the far side of the back pasture, and I noticed Mia and Light walking out into the field and coming in our direction. I stopped and acknowledged Mia, thinking she might be coming all the way to be near us.
Suddenly, Light turned and bolted back to the barn, as if having been startled by something. I felt bad that it left Mia alone, but she only remained there for a second before turning and sprinting back as well. I don’t know what bothered them, but I took pleasure in seeing Mia run with such vigor.
She may not be feeling her best, but she’s certainly showing plenty of healthy signs of life.
Before Asher and I had walked much farther, I spotted both horses meandering back out into that field a second time, leaving me curious about what it was that had spooked each one, just seconds apart from each other, but happy they felt safe enough to try again.
The weather forecast includes warnings about a severe cold wave coming with temperatures lower than we’ve seen in seven years. That means colder than these horses have experienced since they’ve lived with us.
At least they are sheltered from the wind. We are crossing our fingers that we get through the Arctic conditions without any incidents for the animals or equipment.
Baby, it’s gonna get cold outside!
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Gut Feeling
Not being inclined toward appearing alarmist, I hesitate to leap to extreme conclusions; however, there is a saying that I believe came from our government… If you see something, say something. Who am I supposed to tell when I see that it’s my country that is abusing its power?
I don’t know how we can ever apologize enough to the rest of the world for the ridiculous situation we have allowed to occur.
This morning, I am also struggling with making the wrong conclusion about the way Mia was behaving. I’m not confident in my ability to trust the accuracy of my intuitive sense of feelings triggered by what I witnessed. Since nothing I saw indicates an obvious problem or a need for immediate action, we are not doing anything more than planning to keep a closer eye on her for a while.
When I described my thoughts to Cyndie after returning to the house, she admitted having had a momentary similar thought. Could Mia be sensing her life coming to its end?
Unfortunately, our weather is expected to become more stressfully cold for a period of days, so if Mia is not interested in putting in the effort to cope, a fatal result would not be a surprise. One of the things Cyndie and I talked about triggered an insight. Mia has always been the lowest in the herd order and appears ostracized all too often. Cyndie posited the possibility that these horses are not behaving in the natural ways of a healthy herd with fully intact horse senses.
Before the abuse of severe neglect they suffered, they were forced to race in competitions against other horses. Our offerings of love and comfort since they’ve been with us haven’t necessarily undone all of the compensating behaviors they adopted to deal with all the different situations they have lived through.
I felt like Mia was showing signs of not caring about staying with the other three this morning. It could have been a passing grudge that won’t endure, and we will soon find her reengaged with one or more of the others.
Whether it’s my country or our horses, I find myself experiencing an unpleasant gut feeling.
It would be just fine with me to be wrong about Mia.
As for the country, I’m afraid things have already gone further than should ever have been allowed.
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Horse Time
It was a quiet morning with the horses today. They were all business when the buckets of feed were served. I found a fresh clump of tail strands on the ground that has us wondering why. It’s the second time in a few weeks, but we witnessed the first strands dragging off of Light from beneath her blanket.
They are blanket-free currently, and their shaggy hair looks great on them.
When Swings walked over in front of me, her hooves clomped in the classic “horse sound” (knocking coconut halves together) as if she were walking on concrete. The temperature has dropped below freezing, and the rain-soaked, well-packed snow surface probably is as hard as concrete.
We’ve been collecting all the dropped hay to be scattered over the icy surface beyond the overhang to provide a little better footing for the horses (and us).
Yes, Swings has a funky laying mane. It used to bother my sensibilities, but I’ve gotten used to it.
It being January, we’ve incremented all the horses’ ages for 2026, in the convention of Thoroughbreds and the horse racing industry. So Swings is now 31, although her true date of birth is in April.
Mia is next oldest, coming in at 26 this year. Her birthday is in February.
Light is 23 (May) and Mix is 22 (March).
Mia tends to grow the least shaggy coat of winter hair among the four of them, but even she is looking good and fluffy this morning.
Mix’s winter growth tends to look wet even though it’s not. We would brush it out for her if she preferred, but we don’t bother them if they don’t want to be touched.
This morning, Cyndie bent over to fill in a hole dug by a critter, and Swings backed into her butt. Taking the friendly bump as a message, she stood up and offered Swings a scratch. It didn’t take much, and Swings moved away when she’d had enough.
If a person wants to turn their back on the ugliness occurring in the world for a while, spending time with horses is hard to beat. It is sure working wonders for me lately.
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Transcendent Ambience
With our weather taking a mild turn, I took the blankets off three of the horses yesterday, leaving Mia covered because she doesn’t grow as thick a winter coat as the others. Blanketing horses is interesting in that it seems like they’d just as soon not have them on, but they appreciate the added protection against the elements when the weather gets crazy.
As such, they will cooperate by standing still while we put them on. It is a treat to be able to reward them by taking the blankets off again as soon as the conditions allow. Happily, Mia doesn’t fuss over keeping hers on.
She finished her feed and came down to where I was tying a freshly-filled hay net on a fence post. I did my best to read her intentions in case she preferred to get rid of the blanket, but she gave me no indication that was the case. She seemed more interested in gobbling bites of hay.
With the warm temperature, I was working without a hat and wearing uninsulated gloves. After finishing all the chores and collecting empty feed buckets, I paused to lean on the gate and enjoy the moment. It was a wonderfully quiet night. As darkness approached, Mia was wandering from one placemat after another to scrounge any remaining spilled feed pellets. The other three horses were each at a different hay net, munching away.
In the distance, across the road in a grove of pine trees, an owl started hooting, adding to the transcendent ambience.
It was the kind of solitary experience that wouldn’t have been as special if someone else were there, but as I was enjoying it, I found myself wishing everyone could have the same opportunity.
I don’t know how I ever got so lucky to live in this remarkable place and have a relationship with these precious horses.
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Nasty Conditions
Today’s quiz question is: What is John’s least favorite weather condition in the winter?
If you guessed rain in the great snowy north, you are oh-so-correct.
What a way to wreck perfectly good snow for outdoor recreation. Yuck. It stayed warm throughout the rain, so we dodged the dreaded icing that usually happens when the precipitation changes over to snow. There was a pause during which the temperature began its return to real cold again before the arrival of high wind and flying flakes.
I found the horses’ Jolly Ball had been carried or kicked out into the hay field. I regularly pick it up from wherever it rolls in the paddock and set it up where I hope it will entice them to play with it. It’s rarely obvious whether it gets kicked or the wind pushes it downslope a ways, but I keep resetting it for their benefit.
I’m pleased to see it occupied one or more of them long enough to end up so far from where I had left it most recently.
As we headed out into the nasty conditions to feed the horses yesterday late afternoon, I became aware of the difference between the ways Cyndie and I face the challenging weather. Largely due to the suffering she endures from the cold, Cyndie is more on the defensive against it. I hear it in the sounds she makes and the comments she utters. It leads her to be concerned that the horses might be feeling as bad about the Arctic gales as she does.
I try to play more offense, using comments that diminish the harshness and telling the horses how well they are doing as we all brave the cold and windblown snow. I talk my way into winning the battle of man against the elements.
If the weather wants to go nasty, I’ll dish out my own dose of nasty-level positivity in the finest of contrarian ways.
Take that, old Man Winter.
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Hay Challenges
It wasn’t supposed to be complicated. Hay to feed the horses is supplied by This Old Horse, and it is up to their managers to procure the bales from anywhere they can. Our liaison, Maddy, checked with the previous farmer who delivered to us, but he was out of grass hay.
She found another source who delivered 85 bales yesterday. An hour after we’d stacked it in the hay shed, the Nutritionist arrived to check on the condition of the horses. She was following up after having switched the horses’ feed from grains to processed pellets of Senior Feed last summer.
The good news is that she found all the horses are doing very well since the diet change. The bad news is that she didn’t like the looks of the new hay bales at all. Her concern is that the nutritional quality of the new hay looks so poor that feeding them this at this time of year will leave them short of their daily needs.
That leaves poor Maddy in the difficult position of needing to find another source and figure out what to do with the 85 bales now in our shed.
Just to mess up the day a little more after that, the farrier was running behind and asked to move our appointment from the afternoon to first thing this morning.
One bright spot I particularly enjoyed during the Nutritionist’s visit was the surprisingly social demonstration by the horses as we stood in the paddock and talked over their body condition scoring. All four horses brought their heads together around us, peeking over our shoulders and standing close without issue for an uncharacteristic amount of time.
Eventually, Mix brought things back to normal by getting snippy with Mia, forcing her to move away, which prompted the rest of us to break our little huddle. It didn’t spoil how precious it was to see the horses being so present in the moment together and tuned in with us as we chatted.
It was a nice exclamation point on the fact that their body condition scores were ideal for their ages. It means a lot to us that they not only look good physically, but their behaviors reflect that they are doing pretty well emotionally, too.
Now, if we could find a way to give them some better hay to eat this winter, that would be just grand.
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More Munching
One of the many benefits of snow cover is being able to see where the horses have been overnight. While the paddocks will become completely trampled in a matter of days, even though closed gates don’t confine the horses, it takes a lot longer for the pastures to see a lot of traffic.
One or two loops will appear at first, revealing someone’s initial curiosity. The fresh snow allows us to observe how the traffic pattern evolves as the days pass.
While I was enjoying more of the calming aura of the horses munching their feed this morning, I witnessed a pleasing exchange between Mia and Swings. Mia has always been the fastest eater among the four. We used to think that was because she was the lowest on their pecking order and needed to finish before another horse chased her off her food so they could have it.
Maybe it has become her habit, because they all tend to stay put for the most part now, but she still eats fast. Mia was also good at coming around later and cleaning up scraps that had been dropped. Putting those two things together, she now seems to be establishing a relationship with Swings to eat off her placemat while Swings is still there eating from her bucket.
As I watched it unfold this morning, Mia approached tentatively, and Swings’ first response was to pin her ears back to fend Mia off. Mia then waited a minute, as if negotiating permission. My brain picked up a sense of Mia communicating, “You don’t really mean that…”
Then Mia meekly began nibbling away at the pellets dropped on the mat.
Every so often, Swings picks up her head while chewing, and Mia quickly does the same, in case she is going to be chastised. When no aggression is displayed, Mia checks in by putting her nose close to Swings, and then they both go back to heads-down eating again.
It’s a treat to see them growing a more observable bond. Swings never used to tolerate having Mia in her personal space.
I think Mia is showing increasing confidence with all the others (and us, too), as well as Swings is softening her boundaries more.
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Horses Munching
And another thing. I loathe that it’s Russia that has played such a significant role in the collapse of our democracy through its command over our Kleptocrat-in-Chief, using kompromat, disinformation campaigns, cyberattacks, and social media manipulation to sow discord among the American public.
Even more, I am miserable over the fact that so many were gullible enough to be duped by it all and/or so racist as to support all the despicable things that have occurred in the time since you-know-who first rallied the MAGA hordes.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
For much of my life, I have been aware of being triggered by the sound of someone eating in an otherwise silent environment. My body responds with an incredible blast of intolerance that can be a challenge to control. Misophonia is the term for the disorder. (Siblings: remember how our sister Linda reacted to teeth scraping on our forks?) Anyway, in a curious contrast, the sound of our horses eating is almost magical in the way it soothes me. How does that work?
Listening to them all munching away is one of my favorite experiences. I captured a shot of each of them last night.
I had to include the shot of Mix looking to see what the heck I was up to before she went back to eating because it makes me smile. Maybe she was asking me why she was the last one to be photographed. Can you hear them in your minds, happily chomping away?
These photos give you a good view of how our “placemats” serve to keep their spillage up off the dust and dirt for smacking up after the buckets are empty. Mia is eating some of what she drops in the snow. She tends to step out and scan the surroundings while chewing.
The other day, while they were eating and I was still scooping up manure around them, I noticed Mia had planted one of her back feet on top of a pile. I scraped up everything around that one hoof and kept watching for her to change her stance so I could scoop up that last bit she mashed.
Every time she turned to look away as she chewed, she only moved her front feet. I’d never paid that close of attention to her feet for that long before, so this was surprising to me. I bet she did that about ten times while I was cleaning the rest of the immediate area. It wasn’t until she finished eating and walked away that she finally picked up that back foot.
I’m pretty certain there is a high probability she was just messing with me.
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Different Profiles
As Asher was trotting up the driveway the other day, his shadow on the pavement looked like an interesting silhouette. I pulled out my phone and tried to snap a photo, needing to wait for good sunlight through the tree branches while also trying to keep up with him.
The challenge of keeping up with him is that he speeds up as soon as he notices someone closing in on him.
The first shot had him looking rather moose-like to me. At jogging speed, I didn’t get the shadow framed as well as I wanted.
This one didn’t line up so well, either, but it captures a little more of a truer profile of him. I particularly like that it caught one of his front paws in the motion of his scampering.
Yesterday, before the rain really started falling, I took a picture of Mia in her muddy rain slicker.
Since our rain overnight was predicted to turn into snow, I think the horses will understand this morning why we subjected them to the nuisance of blankets again. At least I didn’t find any evidence yesterday that they were rubbing the mud onto the newly braided bale twine we wrapped around the post on Monday.
Cold and wetness are never a good combination for the girls. It would seem most logical to stay beneath the overhang and munch on the hay we hang under there for them. For some reason, at least three of them can’t seem to resist the adventure of exposing themselves to the elements.
Swings is the one who most often demonstrates the ability to remain dry by staying under the roof. She is the oldest of the bunch. Maybe the additional years have produced a more informed intellect.
She be older, so she be wiser.
This would be a good time to be able to tune in to their telepathic frequency to find out what they are thinking. At the very least, I hope they recognize we want what is best for them. We wouldn’t subject them to the rain sheets if we weren’t concerned about their exposure to wet snow and rain when temperatures are cold.
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Relative Something 