Posts Tagged ‘horses’
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.
.
.
Chilly Bones
We have survived our second night in a row with temperatures reaching – 20°(F) outside, where wildlife and domestic livestock live and cope with whatever Mother Nature dishes out.
Despite how extremely frosty-looking Swings was this morning, the horses are faring impressively well against the elements. None of the other three was covered with as much frost as Swings, but they all had frozen eyelashes and ice in their noses.
It is damn cold. This far below zero is where tree trunks start splitting open. It sounds like a rifle shot when they do. We have been hearing it happen, but have yet to spot clear evidence of which trees have ruptured. Air this cold is also dry and thin. Sound waves travel to the degree that vehicle tires on the pavement a mile away sound like they are right next door, similar to the way voices carry across the surface of a lake.
Boots on snow squeak like a bearing needing lubricant.
It is startling to imagine that such brutal weather as this didn’t sway a sea of tens of thousands of concerned citizens from amassing on the streets of Minneapolis yesterday to voice their objections to the abuses being dished out by the fascist regime currently sh**ting all over our democracy.
Is there any possibility that the level of dissatisfaction it takes to drive this behavior will sink in with the powers that be? If not, I shudder to think what it will take.
We decided to try giving Mia the added protection of a neck covering, but the attachment that Cyndie found in the barn wasn’t a match for the blankets we have. Maddy, from This Old Horse, stopped by with another blanket for Mia that worked a little better.
It’s funny to think that it will be twenty degrees warmer in a day or two, and even though it will still be near zero, it will feel so much less stressful for the animals. It’s all relative!
.
.
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!
.
.
Order Restored
What a difference a new weather system makes. The travesty of rain-ravaged snow cover and meltwater flowing in the ditches has ended for now, replaced by frigid temperatures and two days of tiny, flying flakes of snow.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Order has been restored as far as winter conditions are concerned. Order has also been restored regarding the rabbit population around here. After a few years of seeing very little evidence of the busy little bunnies, it appears they have succeeded in recovering their numbers.
The residual spilled senior feed around the horses’ placemats seems to be a real attraction for them. There is a rabbit super-highway from brush piles in the trees to the corner of the barn overhang.
On a walk yesterday afternoon, Asher and I came upon Light and Mia foraging together along the fenceline of the large paddock. I was happy to see Mia looking engaged and hanging out with Light. As I was spending time visiting with them, my presence attracted Mix’s attention. Soon, all four horses made their way past where I was standing into the back pasture, where Light hooked up with Swings to do a little frisky trotting around together, and Mix stayed back with Mia.
Upon our return from a stroll around the north loop, Asher and I found all four horses had moved out to the hay field and were congregated near the fence. It looked like order had been restored among the herd. Almost.
Poor Mia still wasn’t looking like she was feeling very inspired about life. I was really pleased to see her connecting with the other three again, but the energy she was displaying did not end my concern that she’s not feeling her absolute best.
The extreme cold bearing down on us won’t be a pleasant situation for her to endure if she’s at a low ebb.
Cyndie is away for a few days, so it will be up to Asher and me to make sure we are giving Mia extra attention, making plenty of hay easily accessible for her under the overhang. When it gets really cold, we toss out loose flakes of baled hay that they don’t need to work through a hay net to eat.
Hopefully, my energy isn’t dragging Mia down. Her sad appearance presents an opportunity for me to compartmentalize my gloom over the ongoing threats to residents in Minnesota from Federal ICE agents (and now, potentially, military troops) so it won’t bleed over to the horses. They deserve to have me show up with a clear head and peaceful, loving energy in their presence.
If I can find a way to achieve that, it will be beneficial for all of us.
.
.
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.
.
.
Freeze Dried
There are days when a walk outside on our property feels like we are living in a high school science lab. Whether it’s Physics or Chemistry, the atmospheric conditions pretty much dominate everything. We intimately witness the emphatic difference between dead calm and gale-force winds, a transition that can happen in a startlingly short span of time.
Evidence of cold contracting materials and heat expanding them becomes an auditory experience with our log home as it creaks and groans, snaps and pops as the wood reacts.
After our most recent January thaw, the air made a swift swing to a hard freeze. Snow that was mushy on top and soaking wet at the base became a solid block overnight.
Around the edges of anything icy, we get to see one of my favorite winter phenomena: sublimation. The H2O molecules skip the liquid phase and transition from solid to gas, expanding invisibly into the cold, dry air above. Surfaces that appeared to be soaking wet during Tuesday’s meltdown froze solid overnight. By yesterday afternoon, a majority of the driveway had been freeze-dried. The same applies to most of the shingles on the roof and the boards of the house’s deck.
– – • – • – • – • – –
We put blankets on the other three horses yesterday afternoon in advance of expected precipitation today, to be followed by a reasonable cold snap.
Each blanket has straps on the inside that get routed around each of their back legs to hold the sides of the blanket in place. A week or two ago, Cyndie reported finding a stray strap lying in the snow. It looked like one of those side straps to me. We both assumed that one of the horses had managed to ‘toss’ it from their blanket.
Here is one of life’s little mysteries that keeps things interesting, and yes, it is related to “assuming.” The last blanket we put on was Swings’ and when I didn’t find a side strap on my side, I asked Cyndie to bring me the strap she had found in the snow, assuming the puzzle was solved.
Imagine my surprise when I reached up under the blanket, trying to locate the D-ring to clip the strap to, and found there was already a strap connected to it that I hadn’t noticed. The strap had gotten hung up over her back instead of hanging down like the rest of the straps to be attached.
So the question remains, where did the strap Cyndie found in the snow come from? We have no idea.
It’s a good thing we are only caring for 4 horses. I can’t imagine trying to keep track of things for a larger herd, given the number of times things get confusing with just our quartet of mares.
.
.
Slippery Mess
Yesterday, the 13th of January, we endured another day of serious melting, having not dropped below freezing the previous night. Our trails in the woods look like a super-highway for deer traffic in some areas. There isn’t a single trail where at least one deer has left its hoof prints.
We found a spot where deer had lain down and melted the snow right in the middle of one of the trails. They must be well aware of Asher’s presence because, despite all the tracks, they are conspicuously nonexistent during the daytime hours.
The songbirds sounded pretty happy about the big thaw. The false echoes of spring floated in the air as we made our way among the leafless trees of our woods.
Mid-40s(F) in the middle of the day allowed for a stroll without my outer layer insulated shirt-jacket. My vest was perfectly adequate. Playing with Asher rendered my mitts soaked from the wet snow.
One of my favorite things is when Cyndie sends me pictures she took that look exactly like something I would capture. She knows me oh so well. At least the melting mess makes for interesting photos.
I have done some custom cropping of her images, but she gets all the credit for capturing these views for my entertainment.
Where was I while she was walking the dog and seeing all this beautiful scenery? In the house, finishing the jigsaw puzzle and reading more chapters of Bruce Springsteen’s autobiography.
At the afternoon feeding for the horses, Mia got covered with a blanket again, which she calmly accepted. I believe it helps our cause to remove the blankets when the temperatures warm up. They tend to fret less when the time comes to put them on again. We like to get them on before bad weather makes them cold and wet, but that can find them less interested, if you know what I mean.
Since I believe they are picking up information that we’re not always aware of sending, it’s on us to visualize the desire to keep them as warm and dry as possible when the weather is expected to change. Mia must have sensed this yesterday.
At this point, I’m hoping we can get some new snow on the ground soon to offer a little added traction. The paddocks are a ghastly, icy mess to navigate across until that happens. Twice yesterday, when Mia tried to execute her hurried escape from the reach of maneuvering horses, her hooves slipped dramatically.
That’s a rather nerve-wracking sound when it happens right next to where I’m standing.
.
.
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.
.
.
Dizzying Dissonance
The firehose of ridiculousness and the horrific is flowing at a dizzying rate from one main point in the country of the USA. The buffoon acting as the figurehead is busy spouting his aggressive desires to take over other countries and much of our own, by force if necessary, while simultaneously claiming himself to be the most peaceful person to ever deserve a peace prize.
It is so comical while being equally evil that the rest of the sane world seems to just stare, dumbstruck, wondering what the heck could possibly happen next to stop the madness.
Those who made this mess have no interest in stopping anything. As with so many realities of this world, it will likely get worse before things end up better.
Cyndie and I romp on our beautiful rural acres with our dog and horses, enjoying what diminishing features of winter remain. Rain in January has become the new normal for our position on the planet at this point in the warming climate. Asher behaves as if he doesn’t have a clue about the evil in motion in the world. His pure joy of chasing his rope-pierced Jolly Ball is a healing balm for our fractured sensibilities.
The horses, on the other hand, give off a different vibe. From everything we have come to know about the far-reaching sentience of these amazing equine beings, it doesn’t surprise me that they recognize the nastiness that humans are spewing into the world (again).
It means a lot to Cyndie and me to be able to give them our love and attention each day, letting them know we understand when they are uneasy. Having been rescued from some truly dire situations, our four horses are well familiar with what humans are capable of when acting at their worst. Every good thing we can do for them helps to heal whatever previous suffering they have endured in their lives.
The best thing we can do for ourselves amid the dizzying dissonance of the transition to an authoritarian state is to avoid the blasts from automated bots working for the propaganda machine and increase our loving attention to each other, our children, our friends, our neighbors, and all the animals in our care.
The little things we do matter in ways that too often get overlooked. As individuals, we can’t solve the threat of ICE agents murdering citizens, but we can help each other to cope with the storm of hatred rumbling over the country (and world).
Give a little extra love to people you encounter every day. Share a smile with someone you’ve never met. Give rise to a feeling of love for yourself and everyone you know.
The human race is so much better than the way the worst of people can make us all seem. Two different things can be true at the same time. It’s dizzying, I know.
I’m thinking about going outside to hug some of our trees. Then I’ll go retrieve the empty feed buckets from the horses on this picturesque Saturday morning.
.
.
Loving Home
This is how much I love being home: Cyndie looked at our calendar of activities for the month and identified a block with nothing planned, offering me a chance to go up to Hayward for a few days of solo time. After that week, she has a series of consecutive days when she will be away.
All things considered, I thanked her for the opportunity, but I would rather just remain at home for a while, now that all the holiday activities are over. Especially since I will get the benefit of some solo time at home anyway, when Cyndie is in the cities.
Granted, I will have the dog and horse care responsibilities that wouldn’t require my time and attention if I were up at the lake.
But, I’ll be home! Where my heart is! And caring for our animals is a labor of love.
With the snow-covered trees around our house, it looks a little like the gnome home up in the woods on the Wilkus’ property. Walking Asher through our woods yesterday, I found that there are still snow-laden tree branches drooping across the trails in many places. It hasn’t been warm enough or windy enough in the middle of the woods to knock the snow off the branches yet.
I took the initiative and got covered with snow, shaking the branches free myself on a few of the trails.
Gee, but it’s great to be back home. Even if it means spending extra time cleaning up manure in the paddocks that accumulated while we were away up north. Nobody is as tenacious as I am when it comes to tending to the cleanliness of our paddocks.
It’s my way of helping the horses to love living here as much as I do.
Home, sweet home.
.
.
Relative Something 