Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Slow Death
In my lifetime, I’ve watched a lot of trees die a slow death. The willow in our small paddock was a beautiful tree when we moved here. When we fenced it in, we knew the risk we were taking and tried to protect the bark with a variety of barriers to prevent horses from chewing on it. That battle was not going to stave off the inevitable because the combination of heavy hoof traffic and standing urine puddles in that very wet soil was killing it from the ground up.
2013
When it became obvious the tree was dying, we removed the protection from the trunk and let the horses have at it. For two growing seasons, I have been shocked by how much green growth was still sprouting amid the tangle of dead branches. Today, the lean is obvious, and I’m not sure the tree will be standing long enough to find out if any new leaves will show up at all this year.
The horses have seemed to enjoy chewing away at the base of their favorite shade spot.
At this point, it hardly offers much shade at all, but they still frequently hang out beneath it, maybe out of habit.
Soon I will have to cut it up and haul the debris away and the horses will have nothing to stand under except for the overhang of the barn. This has me dreaming again of a sail shade for them. I think that would be pretty slick.
I also think it would be pretty expensive to pull off. I have my doubts about such a feature working in our climate year-round and wonder how long a life expectancy a sail would have under relentless UV rays, occasional high winds, and periods of heavy snow. However, in the simple terms of shade on a sunny day, I think it would be a really neat solution.
Maybe we should do a feasibility study on the idea. If it ends up not being a sensible way to provide shade for the horses, there are other possibilities we could consider. Coming up with something that will take the abuse that horses can dish out tends to complicate the search, but by looking for ways other horse folks have solved the issue, I’m sure we could find a reasonably affordable method that beats a dying willow tree.
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Animal Focused
There is nothing else I need to do. Caring for and entertaining (in Asher’s case) our animals is my only duty for a week. When Asher and I approached the paddocks yesterday morning, I thought it looked like the horses might have been spooked into the back pasture. Light was alone in the round pen. Her movements gave me the impression she didn’t want to be in there anymore. However, she wasn’t making any progress to the open doorway.
I carried on with cleaning up under the overhang, filling hay nets, and preparing their buckets of wetted grain while they messed around in the fields.
The horses kept looking in the direction of a crowing rooster pheasant to the north. The apparent alarm of the horses had me wondering if the pheasant was calling out a warning of a predator in the vicinity. The next time I looked to see if I could find what was bothering the horses, I found the pheasant strutting around on our driveway like he owned the place.
Well, that indicated to me there was no threat around, or that pheasant would have noped out of there long ago.
I walked through the small paddock toward the crazy bird, and he took to the air with all sorts of squawking and disappeared across the plowed field north of us. Slowly, the horses made their way in and settled down to eat.
Asher and I headed out mid-morning to check on how nice the thaw was progressing and found the horses standing rather sleepily in the sunshine.
Since the dog and I had trudged a full circuit of the property, I offered him a chance to pause in the warmth radiating off the doors of the hay shed, which was also serving as a good windbreak. I leaned back against the shed door and closed my eyes, knowing it was going to be very easy to fade into a nap.
The sound of a horse stumbling rejuvenated my alertness. It was Light. She is notorious for failing to lock her knees sufficiently when she drifts off into a standing slumber. I liken it to the feeling when fading off to sleep at night, that suddenly the bed is flipping over and startles me back to awake. That hasn’t happened to me for a long time. My sleep arrives easily without any fuss these days.
Asher was too busy surveying his kingdom to nap with the rest of us. He saved that for later, on the floor in the house where the heat was amplified through the full-length glass in a door.
I never said focusing on the animals is strenuous each and every minute. Since they are all great nappers, there are plenty of moments when it can be superbly calm and restful.
Even more so when the weather is sunny and warm.
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Intentional Avoidance
We are headed into a late January thaw this week, so we pulled the blankets off the horses yesterday afternoon. They seemed just fine with that.
Since we haven’t received new snow in quite a while, the intentionally avoided areas in the paddock have become ever more obvious.
The horses are staying off Paddock Lake in the distance, and the icy area in the foreground, except for that one time it looked like one of them might have slipped and fallen on it. Otherwise, all the little paw prints in those spaces are probably made by coyotes.
There might be a few less coyotes roaming our neighborhood after Saturday. There were at least six trucks, many with hunting dog cages, patrolling our vicinity, and all that activity had Asher in a tizzy. Poor dog isn’t able to ignore things over which he has no control.
My intentional avoidance of political news has proved rather effective for my mental health over the last couple of months. I’ve detected a notable uptick in messages and comments online in the last week that hinted at an increase in the nastiness I seek to evade. I’m finding it hard to imagine I could somehow keep this up for a full four years minimum, but since it’s worked well enough thus far, I plan to keep practicing this intention for all I’m worth.
Whatever will happen is going to play out whether or not I’m looking and listening. I prefer keeping my attention on the beauty and wonder of our immediate surroundings, where I have plenty of influence to make improvements and foster love.
Feel free to join me by practicing making a positive impact in the local communities wherever you live.
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My Standing
Now that we have realigned our interpretation of the hierarchy of the herd, I am very conscious of addressing Light with the authority she deserves as herd leader. I have not previously given her a lot of personal attention because she seemed rather standoffish and disinterested in my occupying space around her face.
In contrast, Mix always approached me and put her nose to my face to exchange breath in the form of a greeting. She naturally received a lot of attention from me as a result. Now, I intend to seek out Light first and greet her before checking in with the other horses.
Yesterday, I approached Light to tell her how deserving she was to lead the herd and that we wanted to honor her in that role. All the horses are taller than us, but Light is the biggest of all and towered over me as I looked up into her eyes and beamed love at her.
In that moment, Light dropped a load of fresh poo and then stepped off to the side.
Really?
I guess I know where I stand in her version of the hierarchy. And she’s not wrong.
What did I do? I immediately scooped it up, thanking her for the opportunity.
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New Boss
Contrary to what I thought possible, Brad finished his work yesterday by 2:00 in the afternoon. I decided to wrap up my luxurious getaway and drive home. After a quick load of laundry to put fresh sheets on the bed and gathering all my things scattered in each space I had occupied, I checked the weather radar. Oops. It was about to start snowing and I would be driving in the dark.
I left anyway. It was sketchy in places, but I skated through the riskiest stretches on a large dose of luck. At one spot, traffic slowed for a car on the right shoulder with its flashers on. It wasn’t until I got right upon the scene that I spotted a deer sitting in the middle of the road in the blowing snow, most likely a victim of lameness from impact. Yikes.
Back home this morning, I was able to witness the progress we have made working with the horses’ herd ranks instead of against them. I was also pleased to see the waterer in the paddocks was flowing freely for the first day in a long time. Winter has softened significantly, making morning chores so much more pleasant.
When Mia was not well, we isolated her and gave her special attention, which triggered some acting out from the others, providing us new insight into their herd relationships. A volunteer who was stopping by to check on Mia several times was receiving some unwanted aggression from Light.
As Cyndie and Michelle talked out the behaviors on speakerphone, we all arrived at the same insight. We are going to provide better support to Light as the boss mare in the herd. It has been obvious for quite a while that Light was trying to take on the role that had been held by Swings when they first arrived here.
I think I wrote about this before. Their hierarchy was a complicated one because it wasn’t a straight 1(Swings)-2(Mix)-3(Light)-4(Mia). Number 3 showed dominance over number 1, but wasn’t controlling number 2. Mix was definitely below Swings but commanded over Light. Light could move Swings around but was subservient to Mix. Confusing? It is, in a way, but we had gotten used to it and didn’t do much to interfere, figuring they would work it out for themselves eventually.
However, we have come to realize we had been unintentionally interfering. For our own purposes, we had settled into a routine of feeding Mix first and then Mia. That was giving Mix privilege and actually rewarded her poor behavior of impatience during feeding time. Mix has never shown behaviors of herd leadership. Light has shown increasing levels of responsibility to protect the safety of all of them.
After just a few days of changing our routine of feeding to give Light first attention, Mix has quickly become less aggressive and meekly waits her turn. This morning, I saw them out in the field, lined up in order: Light out front with Swings off her shoulder, followed by Mix and then Mia.
I believe the herd has settled on a new boss, and we have finally caught on to support the change.
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Counting Leaves
It is not impossible to function at -14°F (-25°C), but it can be a bit of a hassle to tie up hay nets and distribute buckets of grain –one of which now gets watered down— in such extreme conditions. I am very happy that Asher showed a keen sense of efficiency and adapted perfectly to my plan to shortcut our morning walk and get his business out of the way as swiftly as possible.
The horses were equally focused on their tasks and offered no resistance to assuming their positions and chomping grain with their frozen whiskers getting messier by the minute.
The feelings of accomplishment when returning to the house and getting the feeling back in our fingers and toes don’t entirely dispel the intense urge to have remained under the warm covers of our bed instead.
We tell ourselves these extreme cold snaps that are difficult to survive help to control the populations of pest animals and insects, as well as the number of added people who might consider moving into our region when their homes prove to be inhabitable.
I looked up at the leaves in the big oak tree over our driveway and had two thoughts.
There aren’t many leaves left clinging to all those branches. On the other hand, there are still more leaves up in that tree than I could count.
In contrast, there is a young oak nearby that looks as though it still is holding all its leaves after they dried up and turned brown.
There is also a birdhouse with a birch bark roof that features an opening that wasn’t there when initially built.
I think the residents left for a warmer climate a long time ago.
As harsh as this weather is, the forecast indicates the bite will be even more intense tomorrow. The critters that survive this will have something to brag about.
I have no conclusion that wraps these contemplations this morning into a logical theme. That would involve more thought than I have to muster. With what little energy I have, I intend to curl into a ball like Asher is doing right now on the couch beside me and save what I can for the next foray into the Arctic elements outside later this afternoon.
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Excited Morning
It was not a quiet week in Wintervale this morning. It is cold out there, but not below zero yet. I took Asher for a walk, and Cyndie headed straight for the barn to minimize her time out in the cold. Just as Asher and I popped out of the woods, a noisy truck could be heard up by the house. The dog was only mildly intrigued, and I was able to quickly deduce the neighborhood coyote hunters were busy at it.
Cyndie had a chance to check in with them near the barn, telling them we had seen the coyotes on our night camera a day or two ago. She told him she would keep our dog in the barn while they were in the vicinity.
Much to my glee, we returned to the ordinary orientation for feeding the horses this morning. Mix and Mia on the same side together, and Swings and Light on the other.
Mia is doing well and consuming much closer to her regular amounts of grain again. We are back to watering down her servings, which is a hassle in the extreme cold. If it prevents Mia from having further problems, it’s a hassle we will endure.
The high winds in our forecast had not started yet, but when a breeze hit me and made the air biting cold, I suggested we blanket the other horses sooner rather than later. Light was not interested in accepting a blanket and danced a few circles while we made several attempts. About that same time, the hunting dogs started howling in our vicinity. That put Asher in a tizzy of barking in the barn.
Soon, we heard shots being fired in the field next door, and the horses went on high alert. About the time things should have calmed down, one of the hunters could be heard calling his dog pleasantly. That quickly changed from pleasant when it became obvious the hound wasn’t obeying. Cyndie saw the pup slip through the growth on the edge of our property and sniff around one of her gardens. Asher kicked up his barking to a new level.
One of the hunters drove up our driveway to retrieve two of their straying dogs, and we all lived happily ever after.
We left Light blanketless and headed up to the house for our breakfast, tolerating Asher’s unrelenting urge to continue barking throughout our meal. I’ll be interested to see if Light will be a little more accepting of her blanket as the temperature drops throughout the afternoon.
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Poop Watch
The temperature has climbed above the negative numbers (F) for a couple of days, which should give the horses a break from their stoic stance against the bite of the deep freeze. We are hoping that will help Mia reclaim her usual appetite and spunk.
When the direct rays of sunshine arrived, Swings assumed the broadside position to absorb as much solar energy as possible.
The collection of frost at the top of her tail reveals the coldness of the air in the crystalizing of the moisture from a certain part of her anatomy. One might say it betrays her dignity.
The pigeons were all in on the idea of soaking up the morning rays.
They were occupying themselves with preening their feathers and puffing themselves up for maximum insulating value.
Once again, Mia did not show her normal interest in food and was now doing a little more pawing of the ground, which is an indication of discomfort. We were told to contact the vet. Around 11:00, the Doc showed up and assessed Mia was possibly dealing with an impaction to some degree.
I had witnessed a healthy poop earlier, and Cyndie reported Mia pooped again while the vet was there, so that showed the output was working. To help from the input side, the vet sedated Mia to get a tube down her throat and gave her a lot of water and a dose of laxative. Mia has been isolated in the smaller paddock, where we can control her food and see how much she poops.
She pooped a third time in the middle of the afternoon, but that would be sooner than we anticipated seeing results from the vet visit. We provided water in an electrically heated bucket under her half of the overhang, fed her some grain soaked in water, and offered her wet hay. She seemed pretty hungry and gobbled the wetted grain. That alone is a big change in her level of interest in food in the last two days.
When we get down to the barn this morning, the big question will be how much poop is in her paddock. Having her isolated is a great way to know for sure who is responsible for all the messes I need to clean up.
I have to admit, it’s not often I get to boast about being excited to find a lot of shit on the ground when we show up to feed the horses.
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Watching Steps
We now have just enough of a snow blanket to conceal areas where ice has formed from hydrostatic pressure pushing water to the surface. There is a short curve in our North Loop Trail that gets frequent use, and it has become rather precarious as a result.
When surveying the variety of tracks in the paddock, I noticed that the horses are keen about staying off Paddock Lake.
Yesterday morning, I was looking around the mound that protects the area where drain tile from the barn reaches the air. Just beyond that, a broad span of ice builds up from runoff. It is not entirely clear what happened there, but my first thought was to question why the horses would have risked walking on that mound of ice.
It looked like somebody had laid down there. My second perception involved the possibility it was an unintended lay down as a result of a slip. Yikes. Happily, none of the horses showed any sign of injury.
On the other hand, we do have Mia behaving unusually. She doesn’t seem like she is in any pain, but something seems different. She is more distant than usual and becoming more solitary, isolating herself from the others more than normal. We haven’t seen her drinking water recently, but she was eating more normally yesterday. There is no evidence to lead us to believe she isn’t drinking when we’re not around to observe.
Last night, Cyndie went out to check on Mia after dark. With the sky clear, the moonlight was brilliant and Cyndie took a picture of her in the hay field.
The streak of light is a passing car on the road.
We are hoping the warmer weather expected over the next few days will reinvigorate Mia and dispel any concerns about her overall health.
We would welcome a break from the nagging feeling there is something more we should be doing for her.
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Mia’s Malaise
Someone left the freezer door open on the planet, and our air is feeling rather Arctic again. Yesterday morning, I took some pictures of Mix because her eyelashes looked like she was wearing white mascara.
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It stayed cold all day, but the sun was shining, and the horses all appeared to be coping with it as well as they usually do. However, when we showed up to serve the second feeding of the day as the sun was setting, Mia wasn’t her typical self. As the other three moved into position near the overhang, Mia stood motionless, facing out toward the hay field.
We called out a few invitations to join us, but she showed no interest. When all the buckets were hung and the other three horses were eating, Cyndie started toward Mia, and Mia turned to make her way slowly up. It’s not uncharacteristic that the other horses display some attitude toward Mia but it doesn’t ever seem fair that they emphatically dis her when she obviously doesn’t feel well.
Mix would not leave Mia alone as Mia was headed toward her bucket of grains, so Cyndie unclipped the bucket and held it for Mia to eat, which she slowly did without her normal zest. Thinking the cold might be getting to her, we got her blanket out and she let us cover her up without a fuss. The lack of objection is also unusual.
What bothered me the most was how she simply stood in place when I finally moved the bucket back to her placemat. She showed no energy and no sign of wanting to eat hay for the internal warmth it would provide.
When we got back to the house, Cyndie checked with Johanne, our handler from “This Old Horse” and she recommended a dose of Banamine. Cyndie and I headed back down and administered the pain reliever, which Mia accepted without complaint. I wondered, “Where’d the Mia I used to know go?”
It was sad to see her so lifeless. I adjusted the camera on the spot where she remained standing so we could keep an eye on her. It didn’t take long before I noticed she had disappeared from view. I eased the camera around and found her eating from a hay bag.
She was back!
We followed the horses for most of the evening on the surveillance camera and saw Mia eating hay a good percentage of the time. To our surprise, we also picked up 3 or 4 small canines (foxes? coyotes? too hard to discern) romping around. Didn’t seem to bother the horses.
Based on the tracks frequently visible in the paddock, I suspect they visit often enough that the horses are unperturbed by the activity.
Now, due to an even colder weather forecast for next week, we plan to blanket the other three horses very soon. Hopefully, Mia will be feeling better by the time that test of stamina gets here.
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Relative Something 