Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Independent Streak
It would be fair to say that each of our four horses demonstrates a bit of an independent streak on occasion, but Mix often stands out from the others for more reasons than just her coloring. She doesn’t seem to need the others’ company as often as they choose to maintain a tight proximity. It came as no surprise to me yesterday when Mix came back to the overhang when the other three ventured out to graze in the hay field.
Since I was lingering to watch from the half-door of the barn, I surmised that Mix might be coming back to check on what I was up to. When she started trying to find a firm edge to rub her muzzle against, I stepped out to see if I could provide some hand scratching to soothe an itch.
She didn’t want my hands on her head but seemed to appreciate my robust scratching everywhere else on her body.
When she’d had enough, Mix moved slowly out of my reach and then moseyed down the slope toward the hay field gate. I continued to lean on the gate in front of me to observe.
At the exit of the paddock, Mix suddenly broke into a run toward the other horses with a dramatic pounding of hooves on the turf. None of the three even flinched.
Arriving with all that energy, Mix trotted around them some, shook her neck, and looked to see if she had inspired any of them to match her excitement.
They continued to basically ignore her.
Mix gave up and lowered her head to join in the grazing.
A short time later I noticed Mix rolling around on her back in the grass. I wasn’t around when they returned from the field but the next time I looked in on them, they were all standing around together in the small paddock.
When I showed up for their second feeding of the day, Mia was the one showing some independence from the herd. She was grazing grass along the outside of the paddock fence while the other three were under the overhang.
It’s never a concern if they are not in the immediate vicinity when we show up to feed them. I busy myself with housekeeping duties beneath the overhang, raking up spilled hay, scooping poop, and sweeping off their placemats. At some point, I turn to find (in this case) Mia standing right next to me. We are always amazed when these thousand-pound beasts demonstrate the ability to close distances swiftly, yet silently and suddenly startle us by showing up at our shoulder without warning.
.
.
Reclaiming Pathway
One place that suffers when we get behind during periods of fast-growing grass is the labyrinth. I tend to leave it until last when trying to mow all the other grass areas. In addition to the front, back, and side of the house, I cut grass beside the shop garage, along both sides of the driveway to the road, between the road and our hay field fence, around the hay shed, around 2 sides of paddock fences, around the perimeter of the back pasture fence, the space in front of the labyrinth, and two pathways: the north loop and the south side of the hay field fence.
When that is done, I roll the push mower down to the labyrinth and remove the grass discharge chute to close the mulching cover. That’s required to fit between the rocks of the labyrinth pathway but it also provides the bonus of eliminating grass clippings.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The grass that the mower can’t reach is beginning to swallow the rocks. At least the pathway becomes clearly evident upon a fresh cut.
We have experimented with different techniques (no hazardous chemicals allowed) for trimming grass and pulling weeds around the rocks but haven’t found anything more effective than the time and labor-intensive hand-cutting/weed pulling. When things are growing at this crazy pace that we’ve been experiencing this summer, we can’t dedicate the time it would require to focus solely on the rocks of the labyrinth for a few days.
Maybe if we didn’t go galivanting off to the lake so often, it would be easier to manage the entire property to the level it deserves. We leave this morning with Cyndie’s mom for another dreamy 4-day getaway to Wildwood. [First World Problems®]
Horse Behavior
Both Cyndie and I have noticed that, for the most part, the horses appear to be ignoring the recently mowed back pasture since I opened that gate. I’m hoping our perception is off and they are spending time out there when we aren’t looking. Still, the amount of manure we find beneath the overhang offers reasonable evidence that they are lingering by the barn more often than not.
It could be they are waiting for the hay field to be opened back up to them instead. It may be available soon if the baling happens today as planned. Then we will be able to open all gates like they are normally granted, giving them full access to go wherever they want, whenever they want.
It won’t surprise me if the back pasture needs a second round of mowing by the time we return home from the lake. I’ve decided we should plan to mow that field regularly since it is obvious there’s no interest in cutting it for baling.
More tractor time!
Sorry, labyrinth. You may be waiting even longer between trimmings.
Don’t worry, though. I’ll still keep the pathway open for you.
.
.
Fields Cut
Finally. When it rains so frequently that you have to wait until the second week of July to cut hay, it makes for some tall growth. We have been anxious to have our fields cut because we don’t want the weeds to mature enough to go to seed.
When I came out to see how the cutting was going, I found the horses milling about along the paddock fence. They appeared to be taking an interest in the goings on.
I spotted the red Jolly Ball that was missing from the paddocks. The mower rolled over it and left a little of the orb visible. We’ve rarely seen the horses play with it so it was a surprise to imagine they had carried it out into the field. Either they did or some other animal suddenly took an interest in it.
We left the double gates open to the back pasture in hopes the farmer might cut and bale that field too, but he didn’t take the bait. Last year they told me that area was too small for his rig to be efficient. When he finished cutting the hay field yesterday and drove away without hesitation, I knew I would need to cut that back pasture myself.
So, I did. As soon as he left I hooked the brush cutter mower to the Ford New Holland diesel tractor and knocked down everything the other guy skipped. Rolling through the tall grass for a few hours produced a lot of grass seed on the tractor and me.
I sure hope more grass seeds than weed seeds will take root out there next year.
It feels pretty good to have both fields cut on the same day. I hadn’t really planned on immediately cutting the back pasture after confirming my suspicion it wouldn’t be included in the hay baling project. Somehow, I just acted in the moment. How unlike me.
Having it all done now is very rewarding. In a couple of days, we will be able to allow the horses to graze the back pasture again.
That will make all of us happy.
.
.
Fence Fixes
The first project of the day yesterday was to replace the broken board from the paddock fence. We still have all the old boards taken from the deck when that got redone, so I rummaged through the stack in the hay shed for an 8-foot board that was in reasonable condition. Cyndie came down to help and we worked to push the end post back toward vertical while pouring rocks and lime screenings into the void to hold it.
The wire had simply pulled out of the ratcheting tensioner so re-threading it and cranking it tight again provided the finishing touch after screwing the board to the posts.
One fix down, one remaining…
We moved to the bent gate and started by unthreading the webbing that Pam and John had used to temporarily secure the mangled gate. I loosened the clamp that secured the “hinged” end to the posts.
We laid the gate on the ground and debated our next move.
While talking it through, we started putting our weight on it and found that was enough to slowly return it toward flat. Next, we brainstormed ideas for prying the crossbars to close the widest gap. Using what we had immediately available, we found the webbing worked well to pull the bars closer together. After making extra wraps to hold it, we tied off the ends and declared it “good enough.”
The whole process went surprisingly smoothly and the fix was completed with relative ease using minimal additional tools beyond what we had brought with us. How often do things go as well as that? Rarely, in my experience.
It doesn’t look pretty and it’s not very sturdy, given several kinks and broken welds, but it closes the space and serves as a visual barrier at the very least. I’m rather pleased we aren’t forced to buy a new one to replace it right away. If a horse decides to run into it again, I suspect the result will be beyond repair.
For some reason, the horses showed total disdain for our activity and left us alone the entire time. Maybe they were embarrassed about the original incident and were distancing themselves from the evidence.
As soon as I finish mowing around the fence, I will energize the wires again and re-train the horses to avoid the fences at all costs. It’s probably not that big of an issue for them since they’ve now turned their attention to abusing the feed buckets instead.
When it comes to owning horses, it seems there is always another new fix awaiting attention around the next corner.
.
.
More Damage
Of all the things we learned from Pam and John when we arrived home, the last thing I anticipated was a report of more damage to the paddock fence.
If you inspect that image you should be able to find that the top board of the wooden plank fence to the left of the gate opening is missing. That board was broken completely in half and the screws holding it to the posts were ripped loose. In addition to that, the high-tensile wire that was strung above the top board was also broken.
The power to the electric fence had been turned off while we were away and I will need to repair that break before we can energize the wires again. It occurred to me that having the electricity off for such a long time may have allowed the horses to show less respect for the fence. Still, the mystery remains about what precipitated the dramatic actions on two different occasions to trigger the horses bashing the barriers they’ve tolerated for all the years they’ve been here until now.
One factor I am considering, beyond the fact they were initially being kept off the pasture (while we anticipated the arrival of hay-cutting equipment), is that the four horses were separated in twos, split between the two paddocks. We did that to make it easier on our horsesitters at feeding times.
Now that Cyndie and I were home, I was able to remove the barrier between the two paddocks after they finished eating late yesterday afternoon. It didn’t take long for the horses to move across to the side they had been kept from for the last ten days. I stood and watched as the horses explored and surveyed the grounds “on the other side of the fence.”
There was a lot of sniffing and some brief grazing as each horse patrolled the space that had previously been out of reach. Mia laid down to roll in the dusty dirt.
We tried to look for video recorded by the camera mounted off the overhang but couldn’t see any evidence it was being saved. It looks like it is programmed to record so my troubleshooting will look toward the format of the memory card and the instructions about the path (network address) where the files are to be saved. This exercise may require the expertise of my primary technical consultant, our son, Julian.
Pam and John did report hearing coyotes but that is not an unusual sound whatsoever in these parts so we don’t think that would explain Swings or Light suddenly damaging fences. I did hear some fireworks after dark last night but that is also not that unusual. I put the camera view up on our TV in the bedroom and observed their behavior during the “pop-pop-popping.”
They looked to be aware of the situation and paying attention to the surroundings but weren’t showing any signs of being particularly anxious or upset by the noise.
While I am mowing grass today I will be pondering my options for trying to bend the metal gate flat again. It may be a fool’s errand, but I figure I might at least improve the spacing between the bars where it got opened quite a bit. If that doesn’t work, we’ll probably end up shopping for a replacement.
.
.
Animals Again
We are headed home this morning after a long stay at the lake that included the holiday weekend. It’s been wonderful despite a rather scattered weather pattern that limited the number of warm, sunny days. I have thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of lying around in the mornings without jumping into clothes to walk the dog the moment we wake up.
At the same time, we do miss Asher and the horses. Our home and animal sitters have been sweet about providing frequent anecdotes about the activities at Wintervale. 
Apparently, Mix has developed some connection with one of the pigeons that has taken to perching on the post closest to where Mix’s feed bucket is hung. That’s something we’ve never seen before. That doesn’t really surprise me at this point, since we’d never seen the horses mangle one of the gates before, either.
I’m mentally prepared to need a little time to readjust to home life and the latest activities of our animals. Based on past experience, it won’t take long to get back into the swing of things. Before we came up to the lake, I’d only been home a few days from my week of biking and camping with friends on the Tour of Minnesota. I’d hardly recovered from the euphoria of that trip before diving into the power-lounging and lake swimming of the last ten days up at Wildwood. Settling in for real at home is something I’m looking forward to.
Well… settling in for 10 days or so before we return again to the lake for another 4-day weekend.
At least our animals will have had plenty of opportunities to get used to us occasionally disappearing on them for days or a week at a time with increasing regularity. I hope they sense how often we talk about them with people who ask about our lives in the country. Even when we are away, we bring the spirits of our animals with us to share far and wide with everyone who shows interest.
They really do mean an awful lot to us.
.
.
Always Interesting
There is always something interesting happening around here. I wrote yesterday about Mia’s allergic reaction. Here is a photo:
When Cyndie checked on the horses last night, she found Mia standing with her head in the corner looking as forlorn as Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. Mia hadn’t even finished her oats and corn in the bucket. Cyndie checked under the fly sheet and found all the welts had disappeared. As soon as she pulled that sheet off, Mia’s countenance changed dramatically.
She picked up her head, moved out of the corner, and headed over to finish eating the rest of her grains. I don’t think Mia liked wearing that fly sheet one bit.
The different coloring of those two images is a result of direct sunlight in the morning and Mia standing under the shade of the overhang around sunset.
I stepped inside the air-conditioned house during a break from mowing in the heat and didn’t hear a peep from Asher. I wandered from room to room in search of him and found him like this:
I think Asher is rather fond of air conditioning.
Cyndie disappeared for a while and I got a text from her.
“Lots of strawberries. Going back to pick more. Will u feed dog?”
This time of year, when I can’t find Cyndie, she is usually outside picking berries of one kind or another.
Jam season won’t be far behind. And based on past experience, if it’s not canning jams, it’ll be something else interesting. It always is.
.
.
Muddy Mowing
A couple of sunny days hasn’t been enough to dry our grass for mowing without leaving muddy tracks. The areas of saturation didn’t come as a complete surprise yesterday, because there is still standing water on our trails in the woods. I just didn’t expect so many wet spots in places where it isn’t normally wet.
The outlet of the culvert was no surprise, but it was wet well above there, too.
The area along the small paddock fence is usually a puddle after the snow melts, but not in June.
The alleyway behind the barn is as wet as ever, to the point of being practically undriveable.
As much as possible, I know to avoid these areas when I’m on the riding mower. Even though I was trying to be careful along one of the ditches beside the driveway, I got sucked into some standing water that almost swallowed one of the back tires. I’m not sure how I got out of that mess but soon after I switched to using the push mower wherever water was visible.
Almost as challenging, the compost area was a slippery, sloppy mess. During the week I was away, I had Cyndie dump manure into one particular spot. Because of all the rain, the horses haven’t spent much time away from the overhang area near the barn so there ended up being a LOT of manure to clean up there. Yesterday, I spent some time stirring up and shaping compost piles that were soaking wet. I discovered that active composting is the exception, not the rule in these conditions for most of the piles.
We had a little excitement in the morning when we found Mia covered with welts that appeared to be some kind of allergic reaction, maybe to something she ate in the fields or possibly a bug bite or bee sting? It looked rather extreme but she wasn’t behaving in a way that indicated she was being bothered by it. We notified our handler from This Old Horse, who brought over some pills for Mia.
Toward the end of the day, Mia looked better. We now have her wearing a protective fly sheet, too. It was white when we put it on her. I can’t imagine it will stay white for very long with all the mud and standing water across our landscape.
The weather conditions are a problem for normal operation around here but, hey, we aren’t dealing with the threat of a failing dam or 4 feet of water in our home.
If muddy tracks from mowing are the worst outcome we suffer, I’d say we have it better than a lot of other folks in the region.
Quit your bellyaching, John.
.
.
Imagine That
Yesterday, I gave myself a day off from conditioning my body for long-distance cycling with a plan of riding this morning. Although it would be good practice for the upcoming Tour of Minnesota, during which we ride rain or shine, I did not have it in me to go out and get cold and wet while subjecting my bike to the abuse of rain riding.
I’ll wait for another (dryer) opportunity.
At least I finished mowing all but the wettest areas of grass yesterday afternoon before this latest dose of saturating precipitation.
It was rewarding to find the horses equitably sharing space under the overhang this morning as rain poured down. Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise to me but they were even positioned properly for their feed stations. That is not a common occurrence.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A volunteer from This Old Horse asked if she could feed the horses yesterday afternoon. I was not completely astonished this morning to find where she dumped the manure in my compost area and had to double-check with Cyndie about who dumped it.
I tease Cyndie about her penchant for choosing the most inappropriate pile, which is what our volunteer did yesterday. The thing that I don’t understand about the choice, whenever there are no obvious piles for freshly dumped manure, is how they decide to pick the oldest, most composted, most ready to be removed for other uses pile from the five or six options.
The last thing I want is to have fresh manure mixed into it.
My response each time this happens: “Imagine that.”
I guess I have become more educated than I’d like to admit about what the differing stages of composting manure look like. Newer piles that are very actively “cooking” may be hard to tell apart but it seems to me the oldest pile that looks like the closest thing to dirt should be the last of the choices.
.
.
Double Punch
Out of the frying pan, into the fire. I have done what I could to put the COVID infection behind me and resume normal activity but putting it behind me wasn’t supposed to be literal. I now find myself about as far away from normal activity as I have been in years.
There is something terribly wrong happening in my lower back that feels in every way as if one of my discs is bulging against the nerve that generates incapacitating waves of pain. My poor brain automatically leaps to a conclusion that the timing of these two latest physical maladies are entirely related, but I have no knowledge that this might be true.
All I know is that I am now one week away from the day my health insurance ends with the company that covered me for the first five months of the year and starts with my new choice under Medicare. I was hoping to get through the transition with a clean break from activity on either account.
Today, it is shockingly difficult to avoid stabbing pain when I cough at a time when my asthmatically reactive lungs are teetering on the backside of a virus notorious for negatively impacting breathing.
I am not a pretty sight.
If I could walk without fear of losing my footing, I’d wander down among the horses and bask in their late spring serenity.
We are fast approaching the end of Asher’s on-site training session at a kennel up north. The trainer has scheduled a call this afternoon during which we expect to learn how Asher has been faring during the previous week and what the plan is for picking him up to continue the training at home.
It would really mean a lot to me to be able to walk without pain by the time of Asher’s return.
Walking is once again the exercise that will become my primary focus.
.
.
Relative Something 