Posts Tagged ‘Hunter’
Sweet Harmony
Yes, Hunter and Cayenne sharing a hay feeder.
It’s hard to describe how precious it feels to now see Hunter side by side with the other horses grazing at the hay feeders.
When I first put those boxes out last year, I wasn’t sure how well the new setup would work. I wanted the horses to be able to feed at them, 2-at-a-time, but it wasn’t to be for Hunter. He was either not welcomed by the others, or just not comfortable stepping up to the “table” while someone was already there.
The signals are often so subtle that I miss them entirely, but occasionally I would witness a simple shift of position or nod of a head which communicated clear enough to an approaching horse that they should just stay where they are. My standing near, trying to invite a horse in, would not be enough to override whatever messages were being sent by the horse already at the feeder.
Hunter always got his turn, eventually, so I chose not to worry about it. I let the horses manage the routine of grazing at the hay boxes all by themselves.
It’s pretty sweet to see they have finally worked it out so they can all cordially graze together at the same time, no waiting. To me, it seems like such a dramatic change in their behavior, but they make it appear as if it was nothing at all. Looking at them now, you’d have no reason to assume it hasn’t always been this way.
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Hunter Changes
I’ve been meaning for some time to describe how much, and how quickly, our horse Hunter demonstrated new behavior after Dunia began training his attention and responses, upon which Cyndie and I then experienced the epiphany to re-frame how we had always perceived him.
Hunter, moving too fast for my camera positioning.
Within a single day we began to see a series of disruptions among the three chestnuts of our herd, but primarily between Hunter and Cayenne. Prior to Hunter’s new displays of confidence, he was subordinate to Cayenne. She would pin her ears back and he would submit to whatever direction she dictated.
All of a sudden Cayenne was finding she no longer had total command over Hunter. He was pushing back with emphasis. There were times during their little spats of positioning to send a message with a good swift kick, where neither would back down and the alarming dance would carry on 2 or 3 times longer than is usually needed for this sort of thing.
There wasn’t any sign of hesitation in Hunter’s decision to demand a new level of respect, despite Cayenne’s initial resistance to accepting his new assertiveness.
Giving me a bit of a smile.
Of course, such changes in individuals also makes an impact on those around them. Legacy’s leadership is usually rather subtle, but as the two younger horses continued to wrangle over their relationship, I witnessed him take some bold steps to put them both in their place and convince them to give their ongoing battle a rest for the time being.
Just as quickly as the disruptions among the herd started from Hunter’s new attitude, they settled back down. I was surprised to suddenly find Hunter and Cayenne congenially eating from the same hay feeder, at the same time! That was a first.
Soon, Hunter was doing the same thing with Legacy.
The herd is once again a “get-along-gang,” which has us very pleased. How could we think of Hunter as anything other than the champ that he is to us now?
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Group Effort
Under a strange sky on a day when rain wasn’t predicted, Cyndie and I planned to work on improving the landscape around the round pen to stop the sand from getting carried away in runoff every time it storms.
The passing disturbance in the sky overhead dropped some intermittent showers that were light enough that nothing became soaking wet, so it didn’t interfere with our efforts.
While Cyndie worked on the low side of the round pen, reclaiming sand that had spilled out when 7 inches of rain poured down on us last Wednesday, I prepared the soil on the outside perimeter by pulling our ABI rake/grader behind the Grizzly ATV.
It was working perfectly until impact with a rock sheared the bolts holding the hitch on the Griz. With towing done for the time being, I picked up a shovel and went to work shaping a trench and berm combination in hopes of preventing the water from flowing directly through the round pen.
If I got the slope shaped right, the water should meander around to the low side where it can make its way harmlessly into the drainage swale, minus our precious sand.
Obviously, this is effort that would have best been done before we brought in the sand, but we were in a hurry to get the footing in the round pen improved in time for the training sessions that had been planned.
With Delilah off-leash and the horses free to mingle, we had a lot of “helpers” that were keeping us company while we worked. Between her bouts of barking at the horses for no good reason and wrestling with their exercise balls that she thinks are her toys, Delilah took time to stop by and help me while I dug up the sod. I would toss a shovel-full to the perfect spot for building up the berm, and then she would grab that piece of sod like it was a piece of steak, carry it away, and tear it apart heroically before coming back for more.
Seriously, she took three of the best pieces I had placed in a short span of time, but I didn’t have the heart to dissuade her, as she seemed to think she was doing the greatest job of helping me. That berm better not leak at that spot or she is going to be held permanently responsible.
The horses were also inspired to participate in their own way. Shortly after I got started, Hunter grazed his way so close to me that I didn’t have room to work the shovel. At that point, he was standing on the area I hadn’t dug up yet, so he was packing down the soil I had just churned up with the grader. At that proximity, he also ended up sharing the cloud of flies that were all over him.
They have my full sympathy about the flies. They went up my nose more than once which can really make one irritable. I considered trying on one of their fly masks, but figured the fit might not work out quite right.
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Legacy and Dezirea wandered over to inspect my progress and test out the trench. It confirmed for me that they would have no problem navigating the altered footing in the vicinity of the pen. I think it met with their approval.
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Training Happens
This is what it’s all about. Yesterday we hosted a training session led by Cyndie and Dunia that was the closest thus far to the type of teaching we long ago envisioned happening here. The 3 of us probably experienced as much learning as the people who came to participate in the session. We discovered a few minor details that can be improved upon for subsequent sessions.
Happily, the hot and humid weather we are experiencing did not spoil the activities outside involving the horses. Legacy was a rock star endurance athlete during round pen exercises, doing laps with each participant as if it was a comfortable day and each time was his first. The rest of us slowly became fatigued (and we had the shade of the canopy!), but he showed no signs of having had enough of the work out in the hot sun.
It is fascinating to watch how the process works with these lessons. Different people have different things to learn, and the response from the horses changes accordingly.
While Legacy was putting on his command performance in the round pen, we experienced a little sideshow of the other horses mixing it up in the paddock, as the newly emboldened Hunter let the other two mares see his change in attitude.
With ears pinned back, hooves flew during agitated negotiations over changes in the pecking order that previously existed. Later in the day, after guests had all departed, I wandered down to feed the herd and witnessed Legacy step into the fracas, essentially telling them to put a lid on all the bickering.
They don’t question his instructions, but it was cute to see Hunter take up a strategic position on the far side of Dezirea, where he felt safe from reproach, but could still taunt Cayenne that she wasn’t the boss of him.
Kids.
We are going to do it all over again today, with a new group of participants, hopefully in more comfortable weather. It is incredibly energizing to see this phase of the dream coming to life and witness the horses sharing their wisdom. Together, Cyndie and Dunia have put incredible effort toward preparing the horses and making this all happen.
I have a sense that, with all the support we have received recently from the Walkers and the Morales family, we are as ready as we’ll ever be to take this to the next level. Lookout world, Wintervale Ranch and Retreat Center is getting ready to go viral.
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Re-framing Hunter
Before our horses arrived here, we received a description of them that included details about Hunter having been kicked in the head after he was born. We were told that it had caused him to be a little slow to learn and that he tended to get picked on by other horses in their herd.
It is my intention that this will be the last time I ever make mention of this.
After our 4 arrived here, we sensed that Hunter had his own way of doing things, but it didn’t come across as him being slow to learn. Still, every time we noticed him askew of the other horses, we imagined the story we had been told, and assumed that it was a likely justification for his unique behavior.
Every time I introduced our horses, or talked about them when away, I found myself repeating that story we had been told. It was who Hunter was to me.
Not anymore.
Hopefully, never again. We are going to tell a new story of Hunter. For me, the first incident that spawned this change happened the last time George was trimming the horses. He had one of Hunter’s front legs up in the air and Hunter seemed to have a problem with a fly or something. Hunter picked up his other front leg and reached up over George’s back with a scratching motion.
The image of a horse rearing up on its hind legs is a normal thing to picture, but Hunter wasn’t “rearing up.” Picture a horse standing horizontal and lifting both front legs.
George said, “Don’t let this horse ever make you think he can’t do something. That took a lot of athletic ability. Most horses would fall over if they tried that.”
While Dunia has been here these last two weeks, and when Rachael spent a day with them working the horses, Hunter has proven to be a very capable student and has responded well to their direction. He has needed some extra attention, because of his usual pattern of avoidance to being haltered, but that behavior is one to which Dunia has been training.
We tended to accept his avoidance behavior as understandable, given “the story.”
When I think back to the memorable interactions I’ve had with Hunter, of which there are plenty, not one of them ever seemed like he was reacting to any sort of disability.
This week, Cyndie and I had an epiphany about our perception of Hunter. There is no reason we need to perceive him through the filter of that story we were told. We are going to re-frame Hunter to the horse we have direct experience witnessing. He will now receive a new vision of himself from us.
Hunter is an athletic, intelligent, beautiful, awesome, and truly capable horse.
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Animal Antics
I’ve been working a few days a week again at the old day-job, at a time when there is much that needs attention at home. The grass seems to double in height every 2 or 3 days in some places. I swear I could mow somewhere every single day and never run out of things to cut.
I finished clearing the lines of electric fence yesterday, but it took jumping into grubby clothes the instant I got home and leaving Delilah in her kennel a little longer than I like. I worked until I used up the gas in the tank and then headed up to rescue the dog and we went to the barn to feed the horses.
Normally, we pick up their feed pans as soon as they finish, but I just left them and walked Delilah out into the pasture. After unclipping her leash to let her explore freely, I stepped out of a gate and restarted the brush cutter. My progress was slowed a bit by trying to frequently locate Delilah and assure myself she was behaving well.
I was trying to accomplish two things simultaneously, having her get some time running freely to burn off her energy, while also working to finish the trimming. She did a great job of entertaining herself. I noticed that she had made her way back into the paddock area, where the horses were calmly idling.
Delilah grabbed one of her favorite horse toys, an inflated heavy rubber ball with a big handle, and began running around shaking it like she does when I am there attempting to pull it away. The next time I glanced up, I couldn’t immediately spot her. Just as I began to fear she may have crawled under a fence and run off, I realized she was close to one of the horses. From my distance, I couldn’t tell which of the chestnuts it was, but probably either Hunter or Cayenne.
I kept my eyes on them, with Delilah mostly obscured by the wood rails of the fence, concerned that either of them might act out unfavorably. Suddenly Delilah was trotting away, shaking the ball. It looked to me like she was trying to get the horse to play with her in the way that I do. It was pretty cute, but the horse chose not to engage.
As the sun slid behind some low hanging clouds and evening settled in, I successfully finished trimming the last of the electric fence. During one of the several refueling stops that were needed, I had run Delilah up to the house and put out dinner for her and Pequenita. I was able to finish with Delilah in the house, which sped things back up a bit.
As I was dragging myself back to the shop with my arms aching under the load of the trimmer and gas tank, I spotted Dezirea oddly walking through a small batch of young trees near the far fence line. My first thought was to question the strange route, but instantly I got the impression she was using them to scratch her itches.
Then a branch cracked and Cayenne leaped into a panic gallop to get away. Our horses really seem to startle over the sound of a stick breaking. Her reaction spooked Dezirea, who then bolted out from the trees. That got Legacy’s attention, and he galloped after them.
Just as quickly, they all stopped, satisfied they had successfully averted a potential predator, and went back to grazing. I felt like I had pulled a double shift, but having the animals as entertainment while I worked went a long way toward offsetting my day’s-worth of fatigue.
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Evening Quiet
As Cyndie stepped out the door last night for Delilah’s last walk of the evening, I heard her telling me it was really nice outside. How could I resist? I hurried into my boots to join them for a stroll.
The warmth of the sunny afternoon was just beginning to slip away and darkness was making progress toward cloaking visibility. Looking back over our house to the west, the waxing crescent moon looked picture-post-card-perfect, complimented by the striking brightness of celestial bodies Venus and Jupiter, evoking a magical feeling in the moment.
It was mostly quiet, except for the odd sound that may have been a raccoon letting its presence be known. It didn’t seem to distract Delilah one bit from the rabbit scent she was ravenously exploring. The thick smoke from the neighbor’s wood burning furnace was creating a thin line in both directions, hanging low in a thermal inversion of the valley air a mile away.
I had in mind to get the gate to the arena space closed, to keep the horses out of the confined alleyways overnight. As I made my way into the paddock, Cyndie gently called Legacy to bring the herd back inside. All 4 horses obliged, with the closest two, Cayenne and Hunter, coming in to meet me before I even reached the gate I was about to close.
Legacy and Dezirea turned to come in the paddock, but Legs stopped right in the opening. Both Cyndie and I were sweet talking them with encouragement to keep them coming in our desired direction. I was trying to convey my intention to close the gate, and began moving it in that direction. Legacy took the hint and stepped far enough in to clear, and Dezirea took advantage of that opening to walk right up to me and leaned into the gate.
Dezirea in a recent daytime shot
She wanted me to scratch her itches. I wanted to grant her wish, but after I got the gate hitched. Her forwardness set me to giggling as she insistingly stood up against me in the way of my closing the gate.
I pretty much had to push her hindquarters out of the way, and there she stood, awaiting my return. With the chain clipped, I turned around and dragged my fingernails through her dusty, waxy, shedding coat.
After my week of healing from poison ivy, I know all too well of that orgasmic feeling of having itches scratched. The horses stiffen their necks and bob their heads while making funny expressions with their lips. She was loving it.
I tired quickly and glanced around at the other horses, wondering if I had started something that I wasn’t entirely prepared to fulfill. Luckily, the late hour and encroaching darkness seemed to put them all in a sleepy calm that allowed me to saunter off toward Cyndie and Delilah outside the paddock without needing to give each one a fair turn.
It was the kind of beautiful evening that had us overflowing with gratefulness for our animals and this beautiful place where we live.
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Horse Models
Wow, the days sure seem short when you spend 10 of the waking hours commuting and working. When I arrived home in the afternoon, I freed Delilah from her kennel and took her for a short walk to check on the horses. They were calm and serene, which rubbed off on Delilah and she was surprisingly patient while I fed and then cleaned up after the herd.
We found Hunter all dressed up in his favorite colored wet lime screenings for our visit. It looked like he was wearing a work of art.
When chores were done for the horses, I grabbed a rake and walked Delilah up to the high gate into the hay-field. Inside the electric fence, I can let her off leash to get exercise on her own while I work on breaking apart and spreading piles of manure.
The high ground has dried nicely with the last few days of sunny breezes, and we took full advantage of the conditions. Delilah was totally compliant and roamed freely while I worked. To finish off our time, I pulled out a couple of squeaking tennis balls that she loves to chase.
I think she made up for being stuck in her kennel all day during that short exercise, running herself ragged with a noticeable smile on her face and gleam in her eyes.
When we passed back by the barn I found one of the horses missing. Everyone but Cayenne was under the eave munching hay. It is very uncharacteristic to find just one of them so far off on their own, but she was away in the distance, out grazing in the late afternoon sunshine bathing the back pasture.
The other three stepped out to see what I was up to with my stopping by again, and I was able to capture a shot of them with Cayenne in the distance. Don’t they look choreographed? Hold that pose!
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Seriously, Horses
Not all that long ago I was living in a suburb of the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, in Minnesota, where my wife and I raised our children, and I was driving a mere 11 miles to a day-job that occupied my weekdays. As often as I could, I would participate in team sports with a couple gangs of like-minded friends, playing soccer and floorball for fun and exercise. I can honestly say I had no idea about the changes that lie ahead for me.
Seriously. Horses?
Turned out, yes, horses.
Now I find myself spending each day tending to our herd of 4 horses. In a short time I have gone from having no experience with horses to having a personal relationship with 4 of them.
Last week there was one night when the temperature dipped below zero, and it felt even colder due to a brisk wind. I gave the horses a night inside the barn.
We usually move them in one at a time using a lead rope temporarily draped around their neck. I succeeded without incident with Legacy and Dezirea. As I attempted to bring Cayenne in, Hunter quick-stepped his way through the gate before I could push it closed behind her, getting past Cayenne as I held her in place with the rope.
She did well to remain calm and respect my control as he entered her stall despite my verbal objections. He went straight to the feed bucket in there and chomped up a mouthful. I stood at the opening to her stall with her on my right shoulder and tried talking him out of there. My mind raced through options.
It wouldn’t be the first time we swapped their positions because of something like this, if I just put Cayenne in Hunter’s stall. My intuition moved me to do otherwise. Risking potential disaster, I walked Cayenne into the stall along with him. She went right for her feed as if he wasn’t in there, basically wedging him against the back wall. He looked totally stunned.
Suddenly he went from the frisky little “I can do whatever I want” guy to looking like a confused child. Since Cayenne was ignoring him, I stepped in to push her butt over so he had space to exit, which he did without hesitation. Hunter rushed out of her stall and headed directly into his own, appearing very happy for the opportunity.
For some reason, I don’t feel a tendency toward panic when things don’t go the way I intend with the horses, which may just be a function of my relative naiveté. I give credit for some of my control to Dunia and Cyndie for the horse wisdom they have provided me. It also helps that I have the benefit of daily interaction with our herd. Our horses seem to recognize my contributions of serving up their input and cleaning up their output, and demonstrate total comfort with my presence in their midst.
Yesterday, Cayenne came to me as I exited the paddock through a gate while holding Delilah on a leash. Similar to the precious shared moment she gave me a while back, Cayenne pushed her cheek into mine and we lingered together, breathing in each other’s smell while Delilah patiently waited her own turn for my attention.
My life has changed a lot from 4 years ago, and I couldn’t be more honored to be doing what I do now.
Yeah, horses. Seriously.
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Hay Games
February has arrived right on schedule, showing up with a new frosting of snow for us. The horses have been doing just fine without blankets, but that meant this morning they are wearing blankets of snow that make them look like powdered sugar treats.
Makes them down right irresistible.
Until I find they have been behaving badly. I don’t know if it was intentionally malicious or just bad planning, but somebody’s butt dropped a pile of nuggets into one of the slow-feeder boxes overnight.
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I bet they can identify who the culprit is. Wonder if they chastise the offender. What would we say to a member of our family who contaminated our food? I think that person would catch a lot of flack.
We’ve got something of a new routine going for serving up the daily hay. Even though the slow-feeders are working like a dream, there is no denying a horse’s love of eating freely out in the open.
I have placed the feeder boxes beneath the overhang to keep the hay protected from precipitation. It is pretty clear the horses would prefer being out from under that roof.
Recently, I had cleaned out the bottom of both boxes of dusty remains and decided to dump it on the ground beneath the willow tree. Since Hunter, the youngest and lowest in the herd hierarchy, usually has to wait for a turn at the slow-feeder boxes, he came right down and started nosing around in the scraps I had dumped.
That got the attention of one of the other chestnuts and they left the box to come down and make sure he wasn’t getting a better deal. Soon the three chestnuts were doing a comical slow dance of rotation as they moved from the ground below and the box above.
The next time I was filling the boxes, I decided to throw Hunter a bone and dropped a whole flake under the tree for him. Oddly, it is right next to the old feeder, but they like the hay down low so much better, and I was still of a mind to move their focus away from the old feeders to the new slow boxes, so I am completely ignoring them.
Our hopes with the old feeder was to keep hay off the ground where it gets trampled, peed and pooped on, so as to reduce waste. That didn’t really work as imagined, because they still spilled a whole bunch anyway. 
Now with the new boxes, waste has been greatly minimized, and it is starting to feel like we enough hay that such a loss factor is hardly a concern.
Since one of the boxes had been soiled this morning, I threw out several flakes for them while I cleaned up and refilled the boxes. All four of them were quick to show me they much prefered the unobstructed ground-hay under the tree.
Sure, until one of them goes and poops on it.
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Relative Something 