Posts Tagged ‘horses’
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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Softer Days
Winter has loosened its icy grip by about 35-40° (F) [think about going from 20-below to 20 above], providing the horses with a break from blankets for a little bit. Mia’s regular blanket went back on for a while because overnight temperatures were still dipping into the single digits. I’m guessing she might be able to go “au naturel” again later today.
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The last few mornings have been a lot less stressful without the body’s natural tendency to stiffen in defense against the wicked Arctic cold we were facing last week. The first minutes of sunshine not only painted the horses in a golden glow, but it also made the labyrinth look pretty grand, too.
The low angle of light made for quite a shadow show. The days around the full moon on the 1st were just begging for us to get out and do a moonlight circumnavigation of the labyrinth, but remaining warm beneath the layers of blankets on our bed won out every time.
When Cyndie stepped out to give Asher one last chance to pee before we all turned in, she captured a view of the evening sky and moon-illuminated landscape at 8:00 p.m. on Monday.
It’s hard to know for sure how long this softer version of winter will last, but we will not be taking it for granted. I got my car in for scheduled maintenance yesterday, and it was warm enough that they were able to include their complimentary car wash, which I always perceive as a cherry on top of an otherwise dreary responsibility.
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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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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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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!
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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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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.
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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.
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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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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.
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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.
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Relative Something 