Posts Tagged ‘Hunter’
Overwhelming Bliss
Early in the day yesterday, after scrubbing out the automatic waterer for our horses and scooping up manure from the paddocks, I paused for a moment and felt deeply moved by the overwhelming bliss of our place.
Delilah had been a particularly attentive companion during my chores, and afterward, wandered over to rest in the shade. The horses seemed thoroughly content; Legacy and Hunter up under the overhang of the barn, and Cayenne and Dezirea outside the paddock, grazing on the tiny strip I had opened up for them.
It was quiet, except for a few friendly bird calls, and the weather conditions were idyllic. It brought tears to my eyes. This is the environment we have endeavored to create. When it isn’t a muddy mess out here, we have pretty much achieved what we dreamed of accomplishing.
We have 4 fabulous horses, in space that is serving them well, and they seem pretty happy with their situation. We’re pretty happy with it too, and right now I am blessed with being able to be home to care for it every day.
I was working hard to keep Delilah engaged with me while I was giving her some time off-leash. My chores led us down to the labyrinth where I was fixing the sagging wall around the stockpile of fertilizer.
Suddenly there was a great commotion and I spun to see a turkey shoot into the air and fly off over the trees into the woods. I don’t know if Delilah scared it up, or if it surprised her. It was quite a sight. After it was gone, Delilah carried on as if nothing had happened.
To keep her occupied and discourage her from wandering off, I tossed a hunk of a branch into the woods for her to chase. Later, she came to where I was working and almost stood too close. It struck me as odd. Then I stepped back from what I was doing and saw that hunk of wood laying on the ground behind where I was sitting. She had brought it back to me and dropped it. That’s why she was standing so close.
Since it worked the first time, I decided to do it again, later in the day. I tossed a stick into the woods. I figured she wouldn’t find it among all the other branches on the ground. Silly me, I should know better. I should also have had more sense than to send her bushwhacking through our woods.
By the end of the day, she had more burrs stuck all over her than I have yet seen. I spent a long time brushing them out before Cyndie got home, hoping all the while that Delilah hadn’t also been exploring through any poison ivy during the day’s escapades.
Rest assured, I scrubbed my arms thoroughly as soon as we came inside.
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Horse Stuff
Here is what the arena space looks like after I hung the polytape fencing. I devised a gate which will allow Cyndie to pull up one post and move it to the side without changing the tension of the tape on any other posts.
Cyndie arrived home early enough to do some grooming of the horses yesterday. She surprised me with a text message that said she was “ten minutes away and bringing Dairy Queen ice cream treats.” What a sweetheart. Am I not the luckiest man alive?
A couple of the horses have been bothered by bug bites, and Cyndie took time with each horse, hooking to their halter with cross ties to keep them standing in one place so she could do a thorough job. 
The horses seemed to really appreciate the attention, willingly cooperating to get into the harness and lead rope for their turn.
After she had brushed them out, she applied a chemical fly repellant in hopes of giving them a break from the constant pestering, followed by a reward-treat to thank them for tolerating the funny smell. I was amazed that each horse didn’t just walk out into the paddock and roll in the dusty dirt afterwards, especially Hunter. He is notorious for getting himself covered from head to hoof.
Actually, he has been spending extra time when he does lay down, wriggling around to scratch himself against the ground, sending clear signals that the insects were bugging him.
I captured a picture of Hunter communing with Delilah (in her lopsided vest), in a rare moment when one or the other weren’t trying to demonstrate their perceived dominance.
In all fairness to each of them, Delilah and the herd have behaved with increasing poise toward each other in the days since I stopped driving across the cities to the day-job. I suppose it is a combination of the extended daily exposure they have been able to have, and the maturation Delilah is developing as she approaches the ripe old age of 2.
I’ll take it. Life is so much more pleasant when everybody is able to get along.
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Gaining Experience
It is not surprising that the horses experience a little anxiety about being surrounded by fields of fresh green grass they can’t access.
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We have to control the horses’ amount of time grazing on lush springtime grass to avoid the condition called founder, or laminitis.
For the second day in a row, yesterday we opened the gate to a small section of grass and let them freely graze for about 30 minutes. Cyndie had come out again to watch them, and I consulted with her about options for coaxing them off the grass and back into the paddock. I was hoping to avoid the panic response they demonstrated on Monday.
She suggested I try using a lead rope around Legacy’s neck to guide him, with the hope the rest would follow. Her idea was brilliant, because it worked like a charm. I figured it would be a challenge to even get the lead around his neck, so I brought a treat to encourage his cooperation. I approached respectfully, and he returned the courtesy by pausing his grazing and lifting his head. I rewarded him with a treat and he let me drape the rope around his neck. We calmly walked back toward the gate to the paddock, and without hesitation, the three chestnuts followed. Two of them came with us into the paddock, but Hunter stopped to get a few last bites of grass. I walked back around him and guided him the rest of the way through the gate.
They made me look like a pro, or at least, like someone who knew what he was doing. Obviously, I do know a little bit, it’s just that I have no previous practical experience to work from. I told Cyndie that my success with the horses is entirely based on confidence I gained from the one weekend of training I received at the Epona seminar where Cyndie, Dunia, and the other trainers did their “student teaching” at the completion of their apprenticeships.
It comes easy to me because the methods they taught for interacting with the horses make total sense to me and resonate with my intuition. The positive feedback of the horses’ responses serves to verify my perceptions.
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Grazing Gratefully
We seem to have turned a corner and there are finally areas starting to show signs of drying out. It is a very uneven process, and the spots that are still wet remain ridiculously saturated and a muddy mess.
We let the herd graze together on fresh grass yesterday! I pounded down the posts for our temporary fence to the desired depth, and when the ground around them dries out, it will be like they were cast in cement. 
With the posts ready, I was able to string up ribbon fence lines that will be electrified, but not before I first had to fix a connection on the existing fence.
I found a splice that wasn’t sufficiently crimped. While I was troubleshooting the problem, I had Legacy’s full support. I’m pretty sure he sensed I was on a project that would lead to him getting access to better grazing. He stood front and center on the spot where I focused my attention.
I wish I could have talked him into using his powerful bite to accomplish something positive for once, and get him to clamp down on that splice. My hand tools were all sub-par for the job. I achieved enough of a crimp to give me electrical contact for the time being, which allowed me to prove the concept and proceed.
Cyndie made a heroic journey on crutches, navigating the uneven and uncertain terrain, to provide moral support, showing up in time to witness the completion and testing phase. All that was left after that was to convince the horses that the gate was open.
It was late enough in the day that we needed to put out their afternoon pans of feed, and that had their undivided attention. It also seemed to temporarily satiate their appetite, so they lolled around in a just-fed stupor, paying little notice to the fact I had opened a gate to the grass.
Hunter was the first one to show some interest in why I was walking around in their paddock. I was able to entice him to come toward me, but only up to the area where the mud got thick. They will cross mud, but they need a big enough incentive to do so, and he hadn’t yet figured out why I was urging him to come across. Before long, Legacy wandered over to see what was going on.
I pulled out the trick that I learned from Dunia at the Epona seminar, walking an arc in front of Legacy until he took a step, and then I turned and lured him along by my energy. We pulled Hunter and Cayenne right behind him. I needed to go to the hay feeder in the far paddock to convince Dezirea to join the fun.
While they grazed, I wandered back to the paddocks to restock the hay feeders. When I returned, Cyndie had gone back to the house, so I phoned her to confirm how short a time they should be limited to on this rich spring grass.
“Now would be good.”
“How do you suggest I do that?” I asked.
I tried calmly coaxing them to head back into the paddock, but these Arabians move from calm to panic in a blink, and you’d think I had slapped them on the butt and fired a shot from a pistol.
Of course, they were all juiced up on fresh grass. They carried that sprint into the paddock far longer than was necessary, from my perspective, but who can blame them? They had finally gotten what they wanted for so long, and that quick, had it taken back again.
I will not be surprised if I find them lined up and waiting at that gate when I show up to put out their feed this morning.
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Nature’s Course
If you live on a river, or have ever paid attention to flood stages, you are probably aware of the time it can take for a river to crest. That phenomena is playing out in our paddocks now, as the first day of sunshine after the dreadful week of soaking rains produced wetness and mud that is the worst we have seen. There will be a time-lag before we get the drying for which we so dearly yearn.
The horses are beginning to show some impatience with not only the enduring mud, but probably more so, the wait to get on the fresh green grass they can see all around their corral. I began work on installing temporary fencing to allow them limited access to some grazing just outside their paddock, and was able to push the posts in most of the way by hand because the ground is so saturated. Even if I get the fence up, we can’t put them out there until it firms up enough to support their weight without them churning it into a mud bath like the sacrifice area of their paddocks.
After the rain finally stopped, and the temperature rose out of the 40s, I took the blankets off the horses. They really wanted to be brushed after that, even though a couple of them played hard to get and made us wait out a few dance moves of avoidance before settling down so we could go to work. Yesterday, I got a hint that we didn’t give them as much brushing as they wanted. Cayenne and Hunter took it upon themselves to cooperatively work on removing each other’s shedding coats.
When I first spotted them, I was amazed at the vigor with which each horse worked. It was so obviously a joint operation of sheer pleasure that I found myself mesmerized and wondering if I should maybe be embarrassed about peeping at their moment of shared passion. Hunter’s mouth was open, teeth bared, and he was grinding back and forth on Cayenne’s flank, bringing up vast tufts of hair that easily rivaled what our brushing produces. She was working with equal intensity on his back.
It was as vivid a presentation of “you scratch mine, I’ll scratch yours” as I have ever seen. It was such a classic scene that I figured I should take a picture, but I hesitated, figuring it would be over by the time I pulled out my phone. After staring at them with increasing fascination for a couple of minutes, it occurred to me that I could have long ago had my phone out for pictures. I snapped a few, but of course, none of them really do the scene adequate justice.
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Two Incidents
With Cyndie laid up in recovery for a while, I have sole responsibility for tending to the horses. After only one day, I already have two incidents to report. The common denominator for both situations happens to be our lovely dog, Delilah. If I didn’t keep letting her tag along when I head down to feed the horses, things would probably have come off without a hitch, but she needs to get out just as bad as I need to go feed the horses.
Most of the time, Delilah is getting along well with the horses. It’s similar to the way she is with our cat, Pequenita, in that there are still too many moments out of the blue when she works herself into a tizzy and begins barking and baring her teeth at them. Our cat is small enough that it appears that Delilah just wants to play when she gets all riled up and pouncy. The significant size of the horses appears to be more intimidating, and Delilah comes across as trying to establish some control and to prove her skills at herding. She is a shepherd, after all.
After I got Cyndie home from the procedure on her hip, I discovered that the straps that run under the belly of Hunter’s blanket weren’t connected properly, and it was flipped up over his back. He seemed calm enough to allow me to monkey with it, so I tried to quickly unhook and then re-hook the two straps. Off they both came, and then the first one clicked right into place, at which point Delilah went nuts and did some ferocious barking at Hunter. The horse lurched back and I lost hold of him and that second strap, which was now dangling precariously under his belly as he maneuvered in response to the canine troublemaker.
Our muddy troublemaker
I definitely have not succeeded in teaching Delilah what “No!” means. Apparently, she thinks it means she should keep doing whatever it is that she was doing when I suddenly burst forth with the word, repeating it in ever-increasing intensity.
Eventually, I fooled Delilah into approaching me close enough to allow me to grab her collar, after which she was dragged unceremoniously into the barn and tied up. It took a little patience, but after a short wait, Hunter allowed me back in position to reach under him and pull the strap through to hook it up properly.
Yesterday, I had finished filling the hay feeders at their dinner time, when I noticed that Hunter seemed to be following me wherever I went in the paddock. I allowed myself to linger longer than I really wanted to, finally choosing to just stand in his space when he repeatedly closed any gap that I created by my movements.
When I spotted Delilah beginning to bare her teeth and revving up to bark at him, I decided to intervene swiftly to alter her focus. I tried kneeling down and holding her next to me, soothing her anxiety as Hunter nosed around, taking in big whiffs of her scent. I was hoping to nurture a calm, close-contact interaction between them in hopes it might set a precedent for them developing a more congenial companionship.
Without warning, Hunter suddenly lunged forward and tried to bite Delilah as I held her. I felt awful that I had put Delilah in that dangerous proximity, despite her anxiety of the risk. In fairness to Hunter, he was only returning the treatment he has been receiving from her for far too long. Delilah wrenched out of my grip quickly enough to dodge any real harm, and we both decided it was time to hustle out of the paddock and out of Hunter’s reach.
Hunter went back to grazing.
I have added a couple of notches to my belt of experience managing our dog while in close proximity with our horses. I’m looking forward to my coach soon being able to use her crutches to come down and supervise my lessons, hopefully before any more risky incidents play out.
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Chillin’ Nearby
After spending most of the day on Monday working on the lawn tractor and getting the field mowed, I needed to spend some quality time in the paddocks yesterday, while it was still sunny. Today is predicted to be the beginning of a two-day soaking of rain, and those paddocks are miserable to clean when it is muddy.
As it was, they weren’t much better than miserable in the corner I was hoping to rake. There are still large areas where the ground remains saturated with water, which results in many deep hoof divots, the continued build up of manure from winter, and almost impossible footing for trying to do anything about it. The task involves trying to remove months worth of accumulated manure that is soaking wet and stuck into the mud, raking it across a terrain that is filled with pot holes that serve as perfectly frustrating traps.
I have to be mindful to avoid allowing that frustration to fill my thoughts, because I don’t want that to become the message our horses pick up from me. I have yet to master the art of literally “hearing” what they might want to communicate to me, but they definitely are conveying something by means of proximity. Legacy will walk towards me and pause, continually closing the distance if I neglect to stop what I’m doing to meet him. Eventually, he will come right up into my face, so that I can’t not stop what I’m doing.
Yesterday, I met his gaze and did my best to let him know what I was thinking, and we had a bit of a stare-down. Then we each “went back to grazing,” he, literally, and me, by getting on with raking.
Just as often, it seems, Hunter is my companion when I’m cleaning the paddock. While I was raking that same area yesterday, he wandered over and just stood next to where I was working. He wasn’t looking at me, but just standing beside me. After a short time, he decided to lay down, right there on that same spot. It is the closest I’ve ever been to a horse that was laying down, so I decided to take a picture.
It warms my heart to know he feels that comfortable with me, and that Legacy will behave respectfully when standing as close as he was. Obviously, we are communicating something.
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Building Bonds
With the paddocks recently freshened up —can’t refer to them as clean, since the horses have already followed up Saturday’s major effort with a hefty new distribution of piles— we invited Cyndie’s niece and nephews to come inside the fence to brush the horses. It was a good chance to allow the 1000 pound animals to bond with the kids and receive the nurturing care being offered.
Hunter, in the foreground of the image at left, and Cayenne, far in the distance, were wonderfully cooperative. Legacy, hidden from view, was less so. He wasn’t on his best behavior.
I’m told that horses don’t hold a grudge, but I saw how frustrated he was with us Saturday when we locked the horses out of the paddock while we worked to clean it. I wouldn’t blame him if he was still miffed. While I was scraping manure with the New Holland, he was at the gate, huffing and snorting, scratching away at the ground with his hoof, and shaking his head to and fro. He definitely wanted back in. Cyndie said that when I was putting away the tractor and she opened the gate to let them back in, they didn’t rush in with glee, but casually sauntered in as if it was no big deal. I returned from the garage to report that we had worked an hour-and-a-half past their usual afternoon feeding time. Maybe that was what Legacy had gotten all worked up about. It was past the appointed hour for dinner and we were showing no signs of doing anything about it.
Yesterday’s temperatures had plummeted down to a solid freeze again, so when I stepped out in the morning to get a picture of the new manure pile we had created in the paddock, I was able to walk on top of the crust of snow without breaking through. I decided to hike out and up the hill into the big field, where the snow cover has receded enough to reveal areas of exposed ground. I was curious as to whether this would attract the horses or not. They have barely stepped in the big field ever since the last big snow accumulation. It had gotten too deep to make it worth the effort for them. I expect the horses would feel an increased vulnerability in deep snow.
There was one little trail the horses had trampled into the field, and that single route was what they now confined themselves to on the few occasions they did wander out. While I was taking some pictures from up on that hill, with the sun behind me, Hunter ventured up that trail, stopping where the path began to arc away to his right. Wondering if he was interested in coming further, I approached him with an invitation to join me.
Tentatively, he stepped onto the crusty snow beyond the packed path. Hunter isn’t light enough to stay on top like me, but he found it was no longer too deep, and carefully proceeded in my direction. In the distance, Legacy was keeping a keen eye on the scene.
While Hunter wandered around on the hill with me, checking the spots where the snow had melted away, Legacy and the other horses moved out to just beyond the paddock, but no further. I think they didn’t want to deal with the crunchy terrain, yet they were obviously interested in what Hunter was up to.
He was with me, and we were alone —make that, alone with Delilah— up on the hill. It was pretty special. Unfortunately, since I wasn’t grazing, my interest quickly waned, and I was soon ready to head back down. It didn’t feel right to just walk away and leave Hunter alone, so I tried to let him know my intention to go, slowly stepping down toward the paddock. In seconds, Hunter was following. In fact, he started to increase his gate and I needed to hustle along to avoid getting run over. I wasn’t sure if his rush was to make it easier for him to navigate the crusty snow, or if he was just that eager to get back with the herd, but his sudden haste took nothing away from the sweet experience we had shared in his choosing to join me up there.
It seems as though Hunter and I are building a special bond of our own.
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Hunter’s Run
I finally got around to uploading the video Cyndie shot of Hunter playing with the exercise ball out in the snowy field. If you recall, I tried to capture a video of Legacy playing with the ball a while back, and all I got was Dezirea walking up and putting her nose in front of my camera. That got Legacy’s attention and he walked away from the ball toward me.
Fast forward to mid-January, Cyndie and Elysa went out into the big field with the ball in hopes of getting the horses to play with it. At first, there was a lot of standing around the ball, watching it lay there, or being more interested in Cyndie and her camera. Then, with very little warning, Hunter gives it a push with his nose and then takes off running with it, as if he knew precisely what we had in mind.
It was a joy to behold, and quite a surprise to us. It seemed even more remarkable after the fact, because when he stopped, that was it. None of the other horses showed any interest in getting involved, and Hunter just did his one run and was done with it.
The scene returned to the four horses standing around the ball, watching it lay.
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Relative Something 