Posts Tagged ‘horse behavior’
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.
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Horse Care
One of my favorite sightings these days is finding horses taking advantage of the shade sail shadow. More often than not, it will be Mia positioning herself wherever the shade falls.
She’s no dummy. That, and the fact that the other three generally disrespect her, so that she has a habit of making her own space wherever they are not. Still, there are also plenty of times lately when I have seen her standing nose to nose with the herd, so the animosity among them is not absolute.
I haven’t noticed many times when they have all decided to hang out under the sail, but this summer we haven’t had many periods of oppressively hot days. They are all aware of the option, and I’m sure they will make use of it when it suits them.
Yesterday, we interviewed a second person from UWRF who spotted Cyndie’s notice on the job board. I tend to align with the belief that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. In this case, the something is a person, and her personality and experience appear to be ideal for our needs.
The only risk I sense initially is that our one dog and four horses will be too simple for her, which isn’t all bad. She described having taken care of a LOT more animals, large and small.
One of the difficulties we have encountered with students from the University is how busy their schedules can be, making it hard to find someone available to help us when an unexpected need arises. By interviewing multiple candidates, Cyndie hopes to expand the number of animal sitters from which we can choose.
Finding energetic young people who have grown up owning horses, are currently eager to earn money to pay for school, and are only 10 miles away from us is a blessing that relieves the burden of worry about the care of our rescued animals when we are away from home.
Occasionally, we have had volunteers help out through This Old Horse, but paid sitters add a level of coverage that allows us to plan more outings with greater certainty.
We are excited about both the recent “applicants” and are hopeful about building a relationship that proves beneficial for all of us in the near future. It’s so great to meet people who are as fascinated with horses as we are.
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Animal Escapades
I don’t think I’ve written much about the success we’ve been having with Asher mostly staying in contact with us when we let him be off-leash outside. We’ve been training him with an e-collar, but I don’t think he is as influenced by the collar so much as he’s just maturing and becoming ever more aware of our routine and understanding our property boundaries.
He is frequently content to sit and watch the scenes across our landscape, taking in all the scents that pass his way.
Yesterday, he was taking a particular interest in the horses. I looked up from a project I was working on when I heard the thundering sound of hooves and caught a glimpse of Mix running in from the hay field.
Asher didn’t even twitch. He just watched her approach. I don’t know what got into Mix, but she then ran right back out again. It was as if she just wanted the exercise, but I knew that wasn’t true.
Although, she did then run right back in one more time. That was too much for Asher. He jumped up and ran to the paddock fence to meet her energy. Of course, he didn’t have any plan once he got there. They just stood for a moment, looking at each other with blank expressions.
Meanwhile, the other horses showed no concern for the excitement and stayed up on the high spot of the hay field, calm as ever.
At one point, Mia lay down to nap. As soon as she was done, Swings took a turn.
It was a humid day that had started out foggy. We had received over two-and-a-half inches of rain overnight from a very raucous thunderstorm. Other than the weird burst of running from Mix, the animals all seemed unfazed by the weather.
Mix had been a little gimpy for the last week, and Cyndie has been giving her something for pain relief. I wondered if the running was because she was feeling better. Later, I decided that wasn’t the case because it looked like the running might have left Mix feeling a little more achy than before.
Maybe Asher wanted Mix to stop running around because he realized she might hurt herself if she kept it up. Mix is the youngest in the herd, so it seems odd to have her appear the least comfortable.
We are in the process of slowly transitioning from feeding the horses grains to giving them a manufactured “Senior Feed.” I don’t think Light likes it. She has been dumping a lot of the feed out of her bucket in apparent frustration. Last night, both Cyndie and I noticed an audible increase in gut sounds in all four of the horses.
I think the new feed is giving them rumbly tummies.
Asher doesn’t seem to mind the change. He tries eating what they spill, regardless of what it is. When he refuses to obey the “Leave it!” command, he ends up back on a leash in the barn. We are disinclined toward using the e-collar to train for those violations.
We reserve that for more serious escapades.
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Leadership Dispute
After three days of less than adequate sleep, I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open after dinner last night. It was great to know my body was willing to make up for what I had denied it, but if I went to sleep too early, I’d wake up way too soon. Postponing sleep until closer to my usual time was worth it to get back on a more normal overall schedule again.
I arrived home yesterday to a report from Cyndie that Mix and Light had entered into a phase of heightened conflict, maybe in competition for the role of herd leader.
She described a change of increased aggression from Mix toward Light. For a while, we were seeing just the opposite between those two.
At the second feeding yesterday, Cyndie found Mix standing firmly in Light’s usual feed bucket spot, without protest from Light. That is the station we serve first, and Mix appeared to be claiming it.
Light just stood back and didn’t attempt to eat from any of the buckets.
I asked where Swings was this whole time. Cyndie said Swings has been hanging out with Mia, which she doesn’t usually do because Swings doesn’t like Mia. They were grazing grass together and showed little interest in coming up to eat grains.
I’m just fine with Mix wanting to be the herd leader. More valuable to me would be to have her demonstrate some visible leadership on a consistent basis. If Light gets relegated to the second or third rung on their level of hierarchy, I hope it doesn’t mess too much with her self-image.
Light was rescued from a kill pen on two different occasions and was spookily skinny when she came to This Old Horse. Even though she looks outwardly healthy now, I would guess she suffered enough psychological trauma to leave her mentally fragile ever since. That hasn’t been the way I have looked at her in the past, but since that last Vet visit, my perspective has been readjusted to a more realistic interpretation of the horses’ ages and the abuses they have suffered.
While discussing the horses last night with Cyndie, we jointly came to the recognition that Light’s clinginess to Swings could be a reflection of an insecurity, not a desire to lead. Although we don’t know exactly how she ended up in the kill pen, it occurred to us that she might never be sure that it won’t happen again somehow.
Whatever it is that the horses might be trying to work out among themselves, I hope they come to an arrangement that satisfies each of them soon. It’s much more soothing to have them be loving with each other than to have disputes.
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Ugly Air
I’ve lost track of how many days in a row we’ve been suffering under a “poor” and “low” quality air alert due to wildfire smoke. This morning, it shows up as “Moderate,” but the cumulative impact is lingering to the degree that we aren’t feeling much better. The lethargy I have been experiencing has helped me to avoid doing anything that requires heavy breathing, but we haven’t stayed indoors or worn masks while outside.
The horses and Asher appear to be responding to the nasty air in much the same way as we are. 
They are moving pretty slowly. I watched as Light stepped away from her bucket this morning and turned around toward Swings’ station. She then stood there for a minute or two, as if contemplating whether it was worth the effort to walk over there. When she eventually did, Light slid her nose into the bucket without asking, so Swings lifted her head up out of the way and chewed with her mouth open directly above Light’s head. Light ended up with a little crown of grains on top of her mane, where it covers her slowly healing head wound.
Horses are masters of taking things in stride.
Asher seemed to be looking for better air underground.
One complaint we don’t have during the bout of bad air quality is high humidity. It’s really sad that the dryer air that would otherwise feel so refreshing is being tainted by the smelly smoke particles.
When Asher was taking pauses between digging toward the center of the earth, he plopped down on the cool soil in hopes it would give him a little of that refreshing feeling that we are all longing for.
We are feeling a new level of appreciation for clean air and fresh breezes. If only they would arrive in a more gentle form than the hurricane-wind thunderstorms that seem to be joining wildfires as the new normal on the planet.
I’m afraid my lethargy has me feeling a little more gloomy about the state of things in the world this morning. Luckily, we have a lunch date planned today with friends, Rich and Jill. That will do oodles to bring me to my happy place of love and laughter again.
May you all find a way to spend some time in your happy place today, despite any of the gloom that may be crimping your styles!
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Sheltered Lives
Every so often, I notice that I don’t have to fret over the likelihood of masked armed government gangs in unmarked cars showing up to roughly wrestle me to the ground and cuff my hands behind my back to haul me away to some unidentified detention facility.
Having chosen to consciously avoid all forms of news media since the last US Presidential election, my world has shrunk significantly. Morsels of world events come to my attention through friends and family or through my participation in an international online community, as well as occasional discussions in sub-Reddits that the app algorithm steers my way. Other than that, my days are filled with life on our 20-acre sanctuary or the lake place up in Hayward.
In some ways, it feels like I have stepped into a fog. I am aware there are things happening around me. I just can’t see them right now. My life experience has brought me an awareness of the threads of connection between people, as well as animals, in a transcendental realm that cuts through distances and fog.
When we are thinking about each other, we are connecting. Our love and hopes, and empathy reach each other just as easily as radio frequencies that are beamed to distant antennas. When you read tales of my adventures, you become participants along with me.
You feel the drama of an injured horse or a runaway dog, and you are aware when green growth is overtaking the land or weather events are ruling the day.
Upon reflection, we are not as sheltered as a first impression might hint.
Yesterday morning, while Cyndie and I were tending to the horses, we started rehashing the crazy incident of Light’s mysterious head wound. I was pleased at the veterinarian’s impression that there was nothing that looked unsafe for the horses in our facility. One thing they surmised as a remote possibility was that Light could have reared up in line with the metal fascia edge of the overhang.
As Cyndie and I talked about it, I glanced up at the metal edge from a different angle compared to the day of the incident and immediately noticed a distinct bowing in one spot. I can’t definitively say it wasn’t like that before, but it sure could be another piece of evidence about what happened.
I’m happy to report that all four horses seem to be doing well since the doctor visit. No noticeable lingering negative effects from the shots or the dental work, and Light appears to be recovering well from her wound.
Maddy, from This Old Horse, successfully got fly shields on the front legs of all the horses and brought a new fly mask for Mix. She looks good in Superman colors. I’m a little surprised the leg sleeves have stayed on for several days so far. When we’ve tried them in the past, in less than 24 hours, they have found ways to get out of them.
I like to think the horses are soaking up all the good vibes you readers have been sending them over their years with us.
Keep up the good work.
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Sunrise Ride
Watching 13 stages of the Tour de France provided ample inspiration for me on a beautiful morning bike ride over the hills and past the cornfields of my neighborhood in the driftless region of Wisconsin.
The low angle of the sun created shadows that proved irresistible for me to pull out my phone while riding, which I am VERY reluctant to do. The odds of my dropping it are extremely high, but I got away with it this time.
I was probably feeling a little cockier than usual because I had chosen to ride in the opposite direction of one of my usual routes, which put me immediately into several big climbs, and I found myself pulling it off without feeling noticeably abused. Maybe all the miles I trod back and forth on our hilly property are keeping my cycling abilities fit.
Since I had failed to test my bike since I picked it up from the shop almost a month ago, I was also energized to find my pedaling was as quiet as ever. It would have been a massive disappointment had it been otherwise.
By riding first thing in the morning, so that I could get back to feed the horses at their usual hour, I still had the whole day open to take on whatever chore I wanted. The one that seemed to offer the greatest return for the effort involved cranking up the diesel New Holland with the brush cutter to knock down the uncut areas along the edges and corners of the hay field that the hay mower couldn’t negotiate.
That is an exercise that takes only a few minutes, but it serves as a precursor to moving into the back pasture to trim the weeds before they go to seed, which takes more than three hours.
After giving my legs an early workout, the extended tractor time may appear to be a more forgiving endeavor, but hour upon hour of pushing the clutch pedal, then the brake pedal, while spinning the steering wheel around and back on every turn, was almost as exhausting as conquering Pierce County hills on my bike.
I had closed the gates to keep the horses out of the back pasture, but they were free to graze in the recently mowed hay field. I always love seeing them out on the grass instead of standing in a stupor under the overhang, which tends to be their preference much of the time. That’s Mia all by herself in the image.
This morning, I’m riding bikes vicariously through the pros racing Stage 14 of the Tour. They are a great inspiration.
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Light Wounded
Whose brilliant idea was it to write about healthy horses yesterday? Cyndie and Asher are both away for the weekend, leaving me home alone to tend to the horses and the mowing. When I popped out of the house first thing in the morning and headed toward the barn through the trees, I found Swings and Mia lying down, napping in the paddock with Light standing over them.
Right away, I noticed something looked odd with Light. She was twisting her head and neck, and looked really uncomfortable. I recorded some video of her gyrations and sent it to Cyndie for her opinion. I was unsure about serving their morning grains if Light was unwell.
When I did put out their feed buckets, Light showed no interest whatsoever, but the other three carried on with their normal morning routine.
It was a good thing the Vet was already scheduled for an appointment later in the morning. Light was fighting some invisible battle. Cyndie said it looked like maybe something had gotten inside one of her ears.
I thought it looked neurological. Before the Vet arrived, Maddy, our handler from This Old Horse, showed up to help get things prepared. She is the one who spotted a brief glimpse of a wound under Light’s mane, between her ears. We couldn’t get Light to settle down enough to check it, but at least now we knew what we were dealing with.
The Vet started in with checking teeth and vaccinating the other three horses. Swings went first, and as soon as the sedative kicked in, the doc had her hand in Swings’ mouth and pulled out a tooth.
Sounds like it’s time for Swings to be eating soft senior feed. At the ripe old horse age of 29, she is already down a couple of other molars. She looks so great outwardly, I tend to forget that her internal parts could be wearing out. Maybe we need to start treating her with a little more respect for her elderly condition.
Mia was next and tolerated the dental work stoically. Mix, the youngster of the herd by a year, didn’t need any tooth care and was done after a couple of vaccine shots.
That left Light, who did not want to let us touch her, but needed attention more than all the others. It took quite a few tries to get her cornered under the overhang where the Vet could administer a sedative and provide some sweet talk while the drug took effect.
It was not obvious how Light received this gash, but they suspected she had knocked her head into something. She was given something for the pain, and they went right to work filing her teeth. The doctor felt around for any other sensitive spots on Light’s head and mentioned the possibility of a minor concussion, but generally felt it wasn’t any worse than just the obvious wound.
The injury received a water-resistant aerosol bandage to protect the exposed tissue from dirt and flies, yet allow the wound to breathe to promote healing.
Now I just need to watch the horses for any negative reactions to the vaccine shots and keep an eye on Light’s wound to make sure it is getting better and not showing any signs of infection.
By the evening grain serving, Light was eating normally, but all the horses seemed a little less perky, like maybe the way humans feel after a dose of flu vaccines.
Just another day keeping four horses healthy and happy. Sheesh!
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Healthy Horses
While I have been distracted by the significant growth occurring all over our property, I didn’t notice that the surrounding corn fields have suddenly gone from little sprouts to full stalks. They must have doubled in height a couple of days in a row. They’ll be over our heads soon.
The horses seem to be loving the high grass in the back pasture. I’ve caught them romping around back there several times lately. Too bad it’s going to get cut again soon before the weeds can go to seed. I tried recording a video of them running back there, but only captured a few seconds of a sprint back into the paddocks.
Last night, while I was retrieving feed buckets, Light suddenly squealed and spazzed out as I was standing among them in the tight quarters of one side of the overhang. I was able to back away and give her room to kick and flail as the other horses did the same. It looked like she was hurting severely. I couldn’t find any obvious physical evidence, but my suspicion is that Mix bit her.
Her reaction looked a lot like mine did that time Mix nipped me on my back when I didn’t see it coming. I wanted to be mad at Mix for hurting Light, but since I didn’t see what happened, it wasn’t fair of me to judge. There hasn’t been much in the way of infighting among the horses lately, so I’m passing the incident off as inconsequential.
A Veterinarian is scheduled to be here today to administer shots to the horses and hopefully file down their teeth. We think Swings, in particular, is not chewing well, most likely due to sharp high spots that can develop on their teeth. She has also been “quidding” a lot, which is dropping partially chewed wads of hay from her mouth.
I tell ya, sometimes it can get complicated keeping horses healthy and happy. The rest of the time, caring for them is a breeze, and we get to sit back and enjoy watching them in all their glory.
In the woods lately, I’ve been seeing evidence of another herd that spends time with us, just mostly out of sight.
It’s fun to watch the variety of sizes of hoof prints that show up in the mud from deer using our trails. We’ve found several occasions of itty bitty prints that look like recently born fawns. When we come across some that look huge, I always hope it might be a buck that will shed its antlers on our property in the winter.
The horses are so observant, I’m curious about whether they get to know the deer that regularly frequent our land. I wonder if wildlife has opinions about domestic livestock, maybe feeling sorry for their confinement. At the same time, wildlife might wish to have food delivered twice a day, like the horses do.
I hope our rescued Thoroughbreds recognize they are living the high life here.
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Scary Moment
If I haven’t already ranted enough about how long the grass had grown at home while we were up north for ten days over the Independence Day holiday, let me add one last exclamation point. After I completed a second round of mowing, there were still enough leftover grass clippings to rake into windrows for making yard bales.
While I was playing around in that small plot above the barn, I heard some knocking on one of the horse’s feed buckets. We try to bring the buckets in after the horses have finished their grain, but I had left one out because there was a portion uneaten, and Mia was showing interest in it. If we leave the buckets indefinitely, the horses have a history of messing with them, and the metal handles get all bent out of shape.
After three knocks, I decided I better retrieve that last bucket before it gets wrecked. To my surprise, when I stepped through the door to the overhang, I saw it was Swings who was knocking the bucket in the spot where Mix usually eats, and she was standing with one foot in it.
Thankfully, she appeared totally calm with the situation, but at the same time, in a somewhat precarious position. Concerned that things could quickly take a turn for the worse, I bent down to assist her in getting out of this predicament. I reached through the fence boards and grabbed the sides of the bucket with each hand to hold it down, hoping she would then simply lift her foot out.
It didn’t work that way. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t want to pull it out or couldn’t pull it out. I got the impression her hoof might be wedged in the bottom, but it wasn’t clear since I couldn’t tell if she was pulling up or pushing down. The bucket was moving around and eventually pinned my gloved hand against the fence board hard enough that I began to bellow at the pain as Swings appeared to try standing on the hanging bucket with all her weight.
It was a scary moment. In my increasing panic, I tried to determine what was going to give. The bucket needed to be lifted upward to come out of the latch on the strap it was hanging from. I had no way to cut the strap in that instant. The metal handle looked like it was bending a bit, but the heavy plastic bucket wasn’t looking near its breaking point. It pretty much depended on what Swings was going to do next.
Luckily, she still seemed totally calm about the mess we were in, even with my screaming. Somehow, she shifted just enough that I was able to get my hand free, and it seemed undamaged. The residual tenderness of the bruise didn’t show up until later. Just as mysteriously, the two of us did something that allowed me to finally pull the bucket down while she moved to get her hoof out.
I don’t know how she got her foot in there in the first place, and if it was intended or not, but it occurred to me that she might have been unable to lift it high enough again to get it out. I’m still not clear about whether it was wedged in or if it was just her not taking the weight off that kept it stuck.
Thank goodness for the happy ending. I was home alone at the time, so that heightened my distress during the peak drama. And hooray for the other three horses remaining chill throughout it all. Once Swings had all four feet back on the ground and I was standing there holding the mildly reshaped bucket, it was as if they were all thinking, “What was all the fuss about?”
Nothing to see here. Carry on with your normal healthy horse routines. I’m going to go back to raking up grass clippings.
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Relative Something 