Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Return Assessment
Our drive home yesterday took us through one downpour that lasted about two minutes, after which I needed to switch the wipers on and off to intermittent for the rest of the way home. The total in the rain gauge upon arrival at Wintervale read five inches.
Our grass was desperate for a cut, but it was soaking wet. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, met us at our house to pick up their mom and transport her the rest of the way to her place in Bloomington. We were thrilled to see that he brought along his new Havapoo puppy, Vern, for us to meet.
I’m sad we didn’t take any pictures of Asher timidly inspecting the little pup. He showed no concern over the appearance of a strange creature in his territory and acted as if he recognized that this young dog deserved special respect. Before they left, Steve let Vern explore a bit in the grass, and the little guy appropriately used the opportunity to poop.
Cyndie said Asher investigated that spot after Steve had picked up the droppings and left it alone to walk over to the other side of the driveway to pee. I think he already senses that Vern is family.
Before I headed to the barn, I stopped by the piles of composting manure to see how things looked after a weekend away and multiple downpours of rain. It was easy to turn over the most active pile and reshape the others to bring everything up to my overly-tended standard.
The paddocks and the horses weren’t as much of a muddy mess as we feared possible. Paddock Lake was full to overflowing. The friends we employ to stay at our home and care for our animals while we are away do a fantastic job of maintaining order regardless of the challenges the weather throws their way.
This week, we have a time scheduled to meet a new volunteer willing to feed the horses for us when needed. That would be a real boon if she chooses to accept the responsibility.
Mix appeared to be telling us about how well the shade sail stood up to all the wild weather that bombarded the place over the weekend.
I am so happy that we don’t need to panic and pull it down every time there is a threat of high winds. I think that having it nestled in a low spot between the barn and the hill of the hay field protects it from suffering the brunt of harsh conditions.
The only issue reported as a result of the heavy rain was a couple of dripping spots from the ceiling of our bathroom. It reminds me that we should be shopping for a roofing company to quote replacing our 15-year-old shingles.
They aren’t completely shot, but they’ve suffered a bit of abuse over the years. We think the leak over the bathroom might be related to the plumbing vent or exhaust fan coming through the shingles there. It only appears during exceptionally heavy downpours and has never amounted to much.
Overall, our assessment of things upon returning home was rewarding. We are very grateful to have superb house sitters who take such great care of our home and animals.
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Body Condition
The horses were reasonably less rambunctious yesterday morning when the Nutritionist appointed by This Old Horse showed up to assess the herd. With the dwindling number of Swings’ teeth newly evident and signs of quidding (dropping partially chewed food from the mouth) in Swings and Mia, the Vet questioned whether we were giving them Senior feed.
We aren’t. Yet. This Old Horse scheduled a visit with the nutritionist to help with deciding whether or not to change their feed.
We were very happy to meet Michelle, the nutritionist, and to receive a refresher on how the equine body condition score is evaluated. Horses are scored 1-9, with 1 being poor and 9 being extremely fat. Most horses should be in the 5-6 range.
The main thing I noticed is how much room there is for subjective variation in the observations and measurements. Even something as simple as a change in position by the horse while measuring can alter the numbers.
If you can see their ribs, that is a lower score, but if you can’t see them, you should be able to feel them, or the score will be higher than ideal. Michelle used five places on the body to observe for visible mounds or bulges of fat and to feel for the squishiness of fat (as opposed to the firmness of muscle).
Our herd of rescued Thoroughbreds received very good body condition scores in the range of 5.
I was most impressed by Michelle’s technique for determining a weight for the horses. With a tape, she measured their girth, neck, height, and length and then entered the measurements into an app that calculates the result. Previously, the weights for these horses have been determined using a specially marked tape that bases the result on just the girth measurement.
In the end, it sounds like there are multiple reasons supporting a change to Senior feed, but discussions still need to be had based on financial factors and utilization of the full pallet of bagged grains we just received.
For now, there are no concerns about the horses getting enough calories to maintain their health. Can’t say the same thing for me. I’m pretty sure I most often tend to be somewhere beyond the level of “enough calories.”
Here is a photo Cyndie took of a bee visiting her dahlia blossom to balance the dry discussion of horse scores. A wonderful spectacle. It was too precious to leave unused. Enjoy!
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Leadership Dispute
After three days of less than adequate sleep, I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open after dinner last night. It was great to know my body was willing to make up for what I had denied it, but if I went to sleep too early, I’d wake up way too soon. Postponing sleep until closer to my usual time was worth it to get back on a more normal overall schedule again.
I arrived home yesterday to a report from Cyndie that Mix and Light had entered into a phase of heightened conflict, maybe in competition for the role of herd leader.
She described a change of increased aggression from Mix toward Light. For a while, we were seeing just the opposite between those two.
At the second feeding yesterday, Cyndie found Mix standing firmly in Light’s usual feed bucket spot, without protest from Light. That is the station we serve first, and Mix appeared to be claiming it.
Light just stood back and didn’t attempt to eat from any of the buckets.
I asked where Swings was this whole time. Cyndie said Swings has been hanging out with Mia, which she doesn’t usually do because Swings doesn’t like Mia. They were grazing grass together and showed little interest in coming up to eat grains.
I’m just fine with Mix wanting to be the herd leader. More valuable to me would be to have her demonstrate some visible leadership on a consistent basis. If Light gets relegated to the second or third rung on their level of hierarchy, I hope it doesn’t mess too much with her self-image.
Light was rescued from a kill pen on two different occasions and was spookily skinny when she came to This Old Horse. Even though she looks outwardly healthy now, I would guess she suffered enough psychological trauma to leave her mentally fragile ever since. That hasn’t been the way I have looked at her in the past, but since that last Vet visit, my perspective has been readjusted to a more realistic interpretation of the horses’ ages and the abuses they have suffered.
While discussing the horses last night with Cyndie, we jointly came to the recognition that Light’s clinginess to Swings could be a reflection of an insecurity, not a desire to lead. Although we don’t know exactly how she ended up in the kill pen, it occurred to us that she might never be sure that it won’t happen again somehow.
Whatever it is that the horses might be trying to work out among themselves, I hope they come to an arrangement that satisfies each of them soon. It’s much more soothing to have them be loving with each other than to have disputes.
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Ugly Air
I’ve lost track of how many days in a row we’ve been suffering under a “poor” and “low” quality air alert due to wildfire smoke. This morning, it shows up as “Moderate,” but the cumulative impact is lingering to the degree that we aren’t feeling much better. The lethargy I have been experiencing has helped me to avoid doing anything that requires heavy breathing, but we haven’t stayed indoors or worn masks while outside.
The horses and Asher appear to be responding to the nasty air in much the same way as we are. 
They are moving pretty slowly. I watched as Light stepped away from her bucket this morning and turned around toward Swings’ station. She then stood there for a minute or two, as if contemplating whether it was worth the effort to walk over there. When she eventually did, Light slid her nose into the bucket without asking, so Swings lifted her head up out of the way and chewed with her mouth open directly above Light’s head. Light ended up with a little crown of grains on top of her mane, where it covers her slowly healing head wound.
Horses are masters of taking things in stride.
Asher seemed to be looking for better air underground.
One complaint we don’t have during the bout of bad air quality is high humidity. It’s really sad that the dryer air that would otherwise feel so refreshing is being tainted by the smelly smoke particles.
When Asher was taking pauses between digging toward the center of the earth, he plopped down on the cool soil in hopes it would give him a little of that refreshing feeling that we are all longing for.
We are feeling a new level of appreciation for clean air and fresh breezes. If only they would arrive in a more gentle form than the hurricane-wind thunderstorms that seem to be joining wildfires as the new normal on the planet.
I’m afraid my lethargy has me feeling a little more gloomy about the state of things in the world this morning. Luckily, we have a lunch date planned today with friends, Rich and Jill. That will do oodles to bring me to my happy place of love and laughter again.
May you all find a way to spend some time in your happy place today, despite any of the gloom that may be crimping your styles!
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Erratic Storming
What a day of weather we experienced at Wintervale yesterday! Despite all the fence trimming I was hoping to accomplish, the repeated downpours we received prevented me from achieving that goal. The dew point temperature was in the low 70s°F when we woke up, and none of the storms throughout the day did much to change that. The air stayed thick, feeding that energy to the waves of storms that rolled over, one after another.
Before we stepped out the front door to walk Asher and tend to the horses, Cyndie commented with surprise that it looked like it had already rained. I thought that strange, as I walked through the house from our bedroom, because the deck was still dry.
Then Cyndie figured out she had left a sprinkler on all night. Oops. That was probably helping to keep the humidity up.
We were expecting a delivery of a pallet of food for the horses, so we opened the barn and hoped it would come soon. Thankfully, it didn’t arrive so soon that it got caught in the first energetic thunderstorm.
When we received notice that they were a half-hour out, I headed down to the barn to be ready to guide the delivery. I found the horses calmly sharing space under one side of the overhang.
Every time the other three don’t chase Mia out from under the roof line during bad weather is a victory in our eyes. I had to capture the moment with a photo. Of course, the whole other side was wide open for shelter, but for some reason beyond my understanding, the horses seem to have an aversion to taking advantage of such a simple solution.
The rain suddenly paused just long enough that the feed delivery was completed without getting soaked. The driver said that wasn’t the case on his prior stop, after which he followed the storm the whole way to our place, watching the brilliant lightning strikes on the back edge of the squall. While I was standing with the horses waiting for him to arrive, we witnessed one of those fascinating strikes split into two zagging streaks, followed so closely by the bang of thunder that both the horses and I flinched because it felt too close for comfort.
Each time we thought the worst had moved beyond us, and the sky was getting lighter, a blast of thunder announced the arrival of another dose of heavy weather.
Around dinner time, Cyndie checked the rain gauge and announced that 5 inches had been collected during the day. That seemed a bit of a shock to me, so I asked her to find out what was in the gauge down by the labyrinth next time she walked Asher. It struck her as odd that it only held 1-and-a-half inches.
A while later, she figured it out. The first rain gauge by the house was where she had left the sprinkler on all night. Yeah, oops. Sometimes, we humans can be our own worst enemies.
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Sheltered Lives
Every so often, I notice that I don’t have to fret over the likelihood of masked armed government gangs in unmarked cars showing up to roughly wrestle me to the ground and cuff my hands behind my back to haul me away to some unidentified detention facility.
Having chosen to consciously avoid all forms of news media since the last US Presidential election, my world has shrunk significantly. Morsels of world events come to my attention through friends and family or through my participation in an international online community, as well as occasional discussions in sub-Reddits that the app algorithm steers my way. Other than that, my days are filled with life on our 20-acre sanctuary or the lake place up in Hayward.
In some ways, it feels like I have stepped into a fog. I am aware there are things happening around me. I just can’t see them right now. My life experience has brought me an awareness of the threads of connection between people, as well as animals, in a transcendental realm that cuts through distances and fog.
When we are thinking about each other, we are connecting. Our love and hopes, and empathy reach each other just as easily as radio frequencies that are beamed to distant antennas. When you read tales of my adventures, you become participants along with me.
You feel the drama of an injured horse or a runaway dog, and you are aware when green growth is overtaking the land or weather events are ruling the day.
Upon reflection, we are not as sheltered as a first impression might hint.
Yesterday morning, while Cyndie and I were tending to the horses, we started rehashing the crazy incident of Light’s mysterious head wound. I was pleased at the veterinarian’s impression that there was nothing that looked unsafe for the horses in our facility. One thing they surmised as a remote possibility was that Light could have reared up in line with the metal fascia edge of the overhang.
As Cyndie and I talked about it, I glanced up at the metal edge from a different angle compared to the day of the incident and immediately noticed a distinct bowing in one spot. I can’t definitively say it wasn’t like that before, but it sure could be another piece of evidence about what happened.
I’m happy to report that all four horses seem to be doing well since the doctor visit. No noticeable lingering negative effects from the shots or the dental work, and Light appears to be recovering well from her wound.
Maddy, from This Old Horse, successfully got fly shields on the front legs of all the horses and brought a new fly mask for Mix. She looks good in Superman colors. I’m a little surprised the leg sleeves have stayed on for several days so far. When we’ve tried them in the past, in less than 24 hours, they have found ways to get out of them.
I like to think the horses are soaking up all the good vibes you readers have been sending them over their years with us.
Keep up the good work.
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Sunrise Ride
Watching 13 stages of the Tour de France provided ample inspiration for me on a beautiful morning bike ride over the hills and past the cornfields of my neighborhood in the driftless region of Wisconsin.
The low angle of the sun created shadows that proved irresistible for me to pull out my phone while riding, which I am VERY reluctant to do. The odds of my dropping it are extremely high, but I got away with it this time.
I was probably feeling a little cockier than usual because I had chosen to ride in the opposite direction of one of my usual routes, which put me immediately into several big climbs, and I found myself pulling it off without feeling noticeably abused. Maybe all the miles I trod back and forth on our hilly property are keeping my cycling abilities fit.
Since I had failed to test my bike since I picked it up from the shop almost a month ago, I was also energized to find my pedaling was as quiet as ever. It would have been a massive disappointment had it been otherwise.
By riding first thing in the morning, so that I could get back to feed the horses at their usual hour, I still had the whole day open to take on whatever chore I wanted. The one that seemed to offer the greatest return for the effort involved cranking up the diesel New Holland with the brush cutter to knock down the uncut areas along the edges and corners of the hay field that the hay mower couldn’t negotiate.
That is an exercise that takes only a few minutes, but it serves as a precursor to moving into the back pasture to trim the weeds before they go to seed, which takes more than three hours.
After giving my legs an early workout, the extended tractor time may appear to be a more forgiving endeavor, but hour upon hour of pushing the clutch pedal, then the brake pedal, while spinning the steering wheel around and back on every turn, was almost as exhausting as conquering Pierce County hills on my bike.
I had closed the gates to keep the horses out of the back pasture, but they were free to graze in the recently mowed hay field. I always love seeing them out on the grass instead of standing in a stupor under the overhang, which tends to be their preference much of the time. That’s Mia all by herself in the image.
This morning, I’m riding bikes vicariously through the pros racing Stage 14 of the Tour. They are a great inspiration.
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Light Wounded
Whose brilliant idea was it to write about healthy horses yesterday? Cyndie and Asher are both away for the weekend, leaving me home alone to tend to the horses and the mowing. When I popped out of the house first thing in the morning and headed toward the barn through the trees, I found Swings and Mia lying down, napping in the paddock with Light standing over them.
Right away, I noticed something looked odd with Light. She was twisting her head and neck, and looked really uncomfortable. I recorded some video of her gyrations and sent it to Cyndie for her opinion. I was unsure about serving their morning grains if Light was unwell.
When I did put out their feed buckets, Light showed no interest whatsoever, but the other three carried on with their normal morning routine.
It was a good thing the Vet was already scheduled for an appointment later in the morning. Light was fighting some invisible battle. Cyndie said it looked like maybe something had gotten inside one of her ears.
I thought it looked neurological. Before the Vet arrived, Maddy, our handler from This Old Horse, showed up to help get things prepared. She is the one who spotted a brief glimpse of a wound under Light’s mane, between her ears. We couldn’t get Light to settle down enough to check it, but at least now we knew what we were dealing with.
The Vet started in with checking teeth and vaccinating the other three horses. Swings went first, and as soon as the sedative kicked in, the doc had her hand in Swings’ mouth and pulled out a tooth.
Sounds like it’s time for Swings to be eating soft senior feed. At the ripe old horse age of 29, she is already down a couple of other molars. She looks so great outwardly, I tend to forget that her internal parts could be wearing out. Maybe we need to start treating her with a little more respect for her elderly condition.
Mia was next and tolerated the dental work stoically. Mix, the youngster of the herd by a year, didn’t need any tooth care and was done after a couple of vaccine shots.
That left Light, who did not want to let us touch her, but needed attention more than all the others. It took quite a few tries to get her cornered under the overhang where the Vet could administer a sedative and provide some sweet talk while the drug took effect.
It was not obvious how Light received this gash, but they suspected she had knocked her head into something. She was given something for the pain, and they went right to work filing her teeth. The doctor felt around for any other sensitive spots on Light’s head and mentioned the possibility of a minor concussion, but generally felt it wasn’t any worse than just the obvious wound.
The injury received a water-resistant aerosol bandage to protect the exposed tissue from dirt and flies, yet allow the wound to breathe to promote healing.
Now I just need to watch the horses for any negative reactions to the vaccine shots and keep an eye on Light’s wound to make sure it is getting better and not showing any signs of infection.
By the evening grain serving, Light was eating normally, but all the horses seemed a little less perky, like maybe the way humans feel after a dose of flu vaccines.
Just another day keeping four horses healthy and happy. Sheesh!
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Healthy Horses
While I have been distracted by the significant growth occurring all over our property, I didn’t notice that the surrounding corn fields have suddenly gone from little sprouts to full stalks. They must have doubled in height a couple of days in a row. They’ll be over our heads soon.
The horses seem to be loving the high grass in the back pasture. I’ve caught them romping around back there several times lately. Too bad it’s going to get cut again soon before the weeds can go to seed. I tried recording a video of them running back there, but only captured a few seconds of a sprint back into the paddocks.
Last night, while I was retrieving feed buckets, Light suddenly squealed and spazzed out as I was standing among them in the tight quarters of one side of the overhang. I was able to back away and give her room to kick and flail as the other horses did the same. It looked like she was hurting severely. I couldn’t find any obvious physical evidence, but my suspicion is that Mix bit her.
Her reaction looked a lot like mine did that time Mix nipped me on my back when I didn’t see it coming. I wanted to be mad at Mix for hurting Light, but since I didn’t see what happened, it wasn’t fair of me to judge. There hasn’t been much in the way of infighting among the horses lately, so I’m passing the incident off as inconsequential.
A Veterinarian is scheduled to be here today to administer shots to the horses and hopefully file down their teeth. We think Swings, in particular, is not chewing well, most likely due to sharp high spots that can develop on their teeth. She has also been “quidding” a lot, which is dropping partially chewed wads of hay from her mouth.
I tell ya, sometimes it can get complicated keeping horses healthy and happy. The rest of the time, caring for them is a breeze, and we get to sit back and enjoy watching them in all their glory.
In the woods lately, I’ve been seeing evidence of another herd that spends time with us, just mostly out of sight.
It’s fun to watch the variety of sizes of hoof prints that show up in the mud from deer using our trails. We’ve found several occasions of itty bitty prints that look like recently born fawns. When we come across some that look huge, I always hope it might be a buck that will shed its antlers on our property in the winter.
The horses are so observant, I’m curious about whether they get to know the deer that regularly frequent our land. I wonder if wildlife has opinions about domestic livestock, maybe feeling sorry for their confinement. At the same time, wildlife might wish to have food delivered twice a day, like the horses do.
I hope our rescued Thoroughbreds recognize they are living the high life here.
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Scary Moment
If I haven’t already ranted enough about how long the grass had grown at home while we were up north for ten days over the Independence Day holiday, let me add one last exclamation point. After I completed a second round of mowing, there were still enough leftover grass clippings to rake into windrows for making yard bales.
While I was playing around in that small plot above the barn, I heard some knocking on one of the horse’s feed buckets. We try to bring the buckets in after the horses have finished their grain, but I had left one out because there was a portion uneaten, and Mia was showing interest in it. If we leave the buckets indefinitely, the horses have a history of messing with them, and the metal handles get all bent out of shape.
After three knocks, I decided I better retrieve that last bucket before it gets wrecked. To my surprise, when I stepped through the door to the overhang, I saw it was Swings who was knocking the bucket in the spot where Mix usually eats, and she was standing with one foot in it.
Thankfully, she appeared totally calm with the situation, but at the same time, in a somewhat precarious position. Concerned that things could quickly take a turn for the worse, I bent down to assist her in getting out of this predicament. I reached through the fence boards and grabbed the sides of the bucket with each hand to hold it down, hoping she would then simply lift her foot out.
It didn’t work that way. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t want to pull it out or couldn’t pull it out. I got the impression her hoof might be wedged in the bottom, but it wasn’t clear since I couldn’t tell if she was pulling up or pushing down. The bucket was moving around and eventually pinned my gloved hand against the fence board hard enough that I began to bellow at the pain as Swings appeared to try standing on the hanging bucket with all her weight.
It was a scary moment. In my increasing panic, I tried to determine what was going to give. The bucket needed to be lifted upward to come out of the latch on the strap it was hanging from. I had no way to cut the strap in that instant. The metal handle looked like it was bending a bit, but the heavy plastic bucket wasn’t looking near its breaking point. It pretty much depended on what Swings was going to do next.
Luckily, she still seemed totally calm about the mess we were in, even with my screaming. Somehow, she shifted just enough that I was able to get my hand free, and it seemed undamaged. The residual tenderness of the bruise didn’t show up until later. Just as mysteriously, the two of us did something that allowed me to finally pull the bucket down while she moved to get her hoof out.
I don’t know how she got her foot in there in the first place, and if it was intended or not, but it occurred to me that she might have been unable to lift it high enough again to get it out. I’m still not clear about whether it was wedged in or if it was just her not taking the weight off that kept it stuck.
Thank goodness for the happy ending. I was home alone at the time, so that heightened my distress during the peak drama. And hooray for the other three horses remaining chill throughout it all. Once Swings had all four feet back on the ground and I was standing there holding the mildly reshaped bucket, it was as if they were all thinking, “What was all the fuss about?”
Nothing to see here. Carry on with your normal healthy horse routines. I’m going to go back to raking up grass clippings.
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Relative Something 