Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Unwarranted Optimism
Overnight Friday, into Saturday, we received a plowable amount of snow. Somewhere between 4-5 inches when it ended on Saturday afternoon. During a walk with Asher on Sunday, I was surprised to discover the snowmobile club had run a groomer along their trail that passes over a corner of our property.
One benefit of having almost no snow the last two winters is that we have enjoyed the absence of the annoying whine of dozens of snow machines racing past our land every hour.
I wondered if the grooming of the paltry amount of snow on the trail meant we would be seeing sleds zooming back and forth again soon. Then I looked across the road where the trail continues over a neighboring field.
Unlikely. There wasn’t enough snow over the cultivated dirt to create a reasonable base. As much as the club members must be longing to get out and play on their snowmobiles, that trail just isn’t ready. I think that grooming the measly snow cover was overly optimistic.
We’ve entered another span of below-zero overnight temperatures that led us to putting blankets back on the horses yesterday. I think they understood the situation and were very accommodating when we busied ourselves around and underneath them to hook latches and thread buckles.
A couple of nights ago, we had the surveillance camera display on the bedroom TV, looking at the horses under the overhang for the sheer joy of being able to watch them. We witnessed Light falling asleep standing up and not locking her knees. It surprised me that the first jolt she experienced didn’t wake her, and she drooped her head right away again and tilted forward so far we thought she would fall on her face. It looked to me like she might have scraped her knees before recovering to her hooves again.
Cyndie did a little research and found instances where nerve damage might make it difficult for a horse to engage the “stay apparatus” mechanism that allows them to relax their muscles and enter a light sleep while standing. We have long suspected that Light may have had her front legs restrained (hobbled) at some time in her life, which could have resulted in long-term issues that seem consistent with the difficulties we’ve witnessed.
Maybe she isn’t getting enough deep sleep sessions while lying down during this period when she is looking to claim the role of overall herd leader.
At first glance in the photo above, it looks like there are just two horses.
Zooming in reveals Mix and Swings doing some deep-sleep napping on their sides.
After consulting with our rep from This Old Horse, we’ve started giving Light some pain relief medication to see if discomfort might be interfering with a healthy sleep routine. I will be paying closer attention to their activity to watch for Light getting a turn for some REM sleep while lying on her side.
Except for the hours when I’m busy catching my own ZZZZs.
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Asserting Myself
It is rare that I feel a need to get aggressive with the horses. Yesterday morning was one of those rare moments. To do this story justice, a little background should be understood, so please bear with me as I prepare the scene.
First off, the wooden fenced area we refer to as the paddocks can be split in two by closing gates. Two of our horses get a larger serving of grain than the others, so we pair them up with Mix and Mia on the small paddock side of the barn overhang and Light and Swings on the large side.
They understand the routine well enough that if they aren’t already in the designated positions when we emerge from the barn with feed buckets, they usually adjust in short order. Up at the overhang, there is a short alleyway between the two paddocks that is passable most of the time. When they are in position to be served grain, we swing two gates 90 degrees to block the alleyway.
Since we will be moving in and out of each side multiple times, usually with our hands occupied, it helps if we don’t need to secure the gates with chains each time. To solve that, we conveniently park the wheelbarrow across the alleyway between the two gates so the horses can’t cross, but we can step our skinny little selves around the gates with minimal difficulty.
Mix and Light in a rare moment of sharing a hay net as if they were BFFs. Whaaat!? Not usually.
I’m usually busy filling the wheelbarrow with manure at this point while Cyndie is serving feed buckets and filling hay nets.
Are you with me so far?
One more thing: each paddock has a gate to the hay field that we leave open. If they want to, the horses can get to the other side when we have the alleyway blocked by walking down past the waterer, out one gate and in the other to disturb the horses eating on the other side. It’s not usually an issue these days because they tend to remain occupied with their own buckets, and walking all the way around isn’t really worth the effort.
It all works like a charm until the horses decide they have a different agenda.
I’ve been on my own for a week, and the horses are well aware of my routine. They’ve been patient with my being able to only do one thing at a time. When I popped out of the barn for the first time, they were all in the right spots for feeding, so I closed the alleyway, cleaned off their placemats, and went inside to prepare the buckets of grain.
When I emerged again, Light and Swings had taken that long trek down and around to now be standing on the wrong side and in the way of Mix and Mia. A power move, for sure, but I was not going to help them at all. I served their grain buckets in the regular spots and left Mix and Mia’s on the ground by the door. All the four horses could do was stare at the grain in frustration.
Light and Swings didn’t take the hint and stood their ground defiantly, so I just busied myself sprucing up their side and filling their hay nets while horses fussed. I was not about to re-open that alleyway for them. They chose to go down and around; I felt they should go back the way they came if they wanted to eat.
When I ran out of things to do, I decided to help them understand what we were all waiting for. I stepped around the gate and energetically pushed them to get the heck out of there and go around. All four horses got riled up at this dance, but it was very easy for Mix and Mia to see that they were not at fault as my attention remained solely on the other two.
It took a couple of loops down around the dying willow and back up before Swings and Light figured out they could get away from my pressure by going through the gate I was directing them toward. As soon as they did, I served Mix and Mia their buckets, and in a blink, everyone was calm and back to grazing.
I think I successfully made my point. For the record, no shenanigans occurred at the evening feeding. ‘Nuff said.
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Watchful Eyes
Saturday was a cold day that froze water in one of our electric water buckets that failed. Then, in the afternoon, what I can only describe as an angry wind showed up and made it feel like we were under attack. Debris was peppering the walls of the barn, and I struggled to push the door open against the pressure. The wetted grain in the horses’ feed buckets froze to the bottom. It was miserable.
Sunday, I was shocked to find the temperature had warmed considerably, and it was calm enough that fog was forming. It was very pleasant compared to the night before. The relative warmth of the day inspired me to nibble away at the dying willow tree now that I was feeling more inspired about the possibilities for a shade canopy in its place, thanks to feedback from a couple of people who read my post yesterday morning.
I was reminded that I don’t have to do everything at once, so I grabbed a rake and started pulling down dead branches that were hung up in a tangle with all the others. Mix came over to see if I needed any help.
I tried picking up branches as they fell and started tossing them just outside the nearest gate. It didn’t take long for Light to wander over and conduct an inspection of whatever the heck I was trying to accomplish.
That initial progress was so easy that I decided to return after lunch with a pole saw. Heck, the temperature had climbed above freezing, and the sun was making intermittent appearances. Since I was hoping to bring down some larger limbs, I closed a couple of gates to keep the horses out of the small paddock. The only thing that Swings could do at that point was stand and stare from the other side of the fence.
I got the impression she was not entirely pleased to see me dismantling their favorite old shade tree. Mia can be seen in the background of that picture, showing no interest whatsoever in my antics.
I went as far as I could with a handsaw. My pole chainsaw will be part of the next phase, but I need to wait until Cyndie is home since we have a rule against using chainsaws when no one else is around.
How about a side-by-side comparison of my progress?
Saturday before pruning
Sunday after pruning
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Before I can do more pruning, I have a pile of branches that needs to be cleared away.
That’s always the least glamorous part of cutting down branches and tends to tarnish the good vibes achieved in the first part of the job. Since I’ve given myself permission to not try to do the whole job of removing the tree all at once, today, I plan to just focus on hauling branches to make that pile disappear.
Cyndie is expected home tomorrow, so if I can clean it all up today, I can see if she notices the difference in the tree. That is, if the horses don’t point it out to her first.
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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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Relative Something 