Posts Tagged ‘Legacy’
Rinse, Repeat
February is beginning to feel like a lot of the same thing over and over again for me. It’s all good, so I don’t want to complain, but I’m finding myself increasingly thinking that a little more variety in the weather would be nice. I need to be careful what I wish for, or I could end up facing the kind of epic weather that Boston has been enduring.
To keep things interesting, I have taken to purposefully trying to widen the trails Delilah and I walk everyday, by tromping down the edges on each side so it becomes about 3-times wider than just a single person walking footpath. Most places that is pretty simple to do, but out in the open the trail keeps getting obliterated by drifting snow. It’s like starting over each time when I run into drifts, and it packs down on top of the previous path, so the trail gets higher and higher instead of deeper. If you step too close to the edge, it becomes a dramatic drop through all the unpacked snow to a level much below the packed trail.
Delilah doesn’t like to walk in the drifts, so when we come to them she will move over to a nearby ridge and trot along easily as I bullheadedly try to forge my way straight through the deepest part. I’m sure we make quite a sight.
The later sunsets are becoming very noticeable now and even though it is still very cold, the added light seems to be enticing the animals toward shedding already. Information about Delilah’s breed, Belgian Tervuren Shepherd, suggests she should be brushed weekly, which I don’t come close to achieving. We prefer brushing her outdoors because it creates a blizzard of dog hair, but it isn’t much fun in the extreme cold.
I tried to do just a small bit inside, grabbing hair off the brush at every stroke, but soon the air flowing through our heat vents was carrying stray hairs aloft in spectacular numbers. One of those comical disasters.
Can you see Legacy’s breath in the cold air?
Unlike this picture, the horses are currently wearing their blankets. I think Legacy’s blanket is really bugging him. I keep spotting him trying to scratch his itches and he hooks the blanket on everything possible, making it look like he is trying to rip it off. He rarely tolerates me putting hands on him, but the other day he leaned hard into my hand as I scratched his neck and chin for him. There was plenty of hair floating loose, so I think the horses are on the verge of changing their coats.
Other than issues of shedding, our routine is on repeat from the day before, and the week before that. Walk the dog, feed the horses, clean up after the horses.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you.
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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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Few Photos
Our friend, Ian, was hoping for photos of our frolicking with the dog and horses… The weather yesterday was particularly warm and very sunny, but the horses weren’t in much of a frolicking mood. It was so serene that I think they were lulled into an irreversible calm.
It was quality time for all, regardless. Cyndie brought out her camera and captured some of the action. I unclipped Delilah to play a little “Oblio and Arrow Triangle Toss.” I’m pretty sure we won.
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We then mingled with the horses.
Except for an occasional outburst from someone’s dog down the valley, it was amazingly quiet outside. The fact that the Green Bay Packers were playing in the NFC Championship game at that hour may have contributed to the absence of any outdoor activity. The barking dog was irresistible to Delilah, so to keep her from running off to answer its call, I had to reconnect her leash after we finished our play. We wandered up to the horses, who had moved to the shade of the barn overhang to get out of the hot sun.
Or maybe it was to eat hay.
I crouched down to mediate potential interaction between the horses and Delilah, then snapped a shot of the view Delilah sees when she looks up at Legacy. I can see why she is a little intimidated.
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Everyone was very calm and relaxed during our visit. I think it helped to burn some of Delilah’s extra energy before our interaction with the horses at such close proximity. It is nice to spend time in the horse’s space when we have no actual demands to ask of them. We just lingered together and that was enough.
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Uncanny Perception
While I was cleaning up a monumental amount of manure in the area nearest the overhang of the barn yesterday, the temperature was so warm that I needed to shed my hat and every layer down to my base shirt, and then considered tossing that, too. It was really nice out. Our barn is positioned perfectly to receive maximum solar energy, and is located in a spot that is usually sheltered from wind. Whenever it is even moderately nice outside, it is always even nicer on the sunny side of that barn.
The horses were grouped downhill from me, inside the back pasture. They looked like they were in a precise formation, lined up facing west and standing still as statues while bathing in the bright sunshine. I think it was nap time.
Next time I looked up from what I was doing, my suspicion was confirmed. It was nap time, and two of them were now laying down. I rolled the wheelbarrow filled with heavy, wet manure and snow through the barn to get out of the paddock and over to the compost area. In that amount of time, a third horse had laid down, leaving Dezirea the lone mare standing.
They looked awesome. I wanted to capture a picture of the scene, but from where I was standing, there were branches and a fence in the way, so I headed back up and through the barn. I kept an eye on them as I stepped out from the overhang and prepared to dig out my camera.
As happens all too often, that’s when the opportunity was lost. Hunter and Legacy picked up their heads and put their front hooves on the ground in the classic prelim to the magnificent effort of getting back on their feet again. Cayenne was right behind them. I immediately noticed that all four of them had reversed focus and were now facing east.
I looked that direction and spotted movement in the trees across the road. A herd of deer was coming our way. I was impressed at having watched the horse’s uncanny perception in action. Long before I was aware, the horses sensed the activity and rose to their feet to see what was coming.
Five deer, followed by three more, crossed the road and bounced through our neighbor’s field, leaping high in artful succession to clear a high-tensile wire fence that I don’t know how they can see. There were some young ones in the group, and it looked like a lesson in ‘follow-me; do what I do.’ From my vantage point, it looked like they had jumped too early, but all eight made their way across without incident. The little ones were pretty cute.
I looked back in the direction they had come from to see if there were any more, or for a possible reason why they were moving in the middle of broad daylight. There was an eagle circling above those woods, but nothing else. The horses had followed the action and were now facing west again, looking toward where the deer had gone.
About the time I was thinking about getting the blankets off the horses, clouds moved in and blocked the sun. Almost immediately I wanted my shirt back on, and shortly thereafter, my hat. What a difference direct sunlight makes. I ended up leaving the blankets on for one more day.
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Horse Sense
I have been reviewing a wonderful book we received as a gift from our friends, the Morales’ in Guatemala, which describes exercises for ground training our horses. It is serving as a good refresher for me about being aware of my movements and demeanor when I am with the horses. I know to do this, but I’ve become complacent about doing so regularly and with conscious intent.
By habit, I still find myself saying that I have no horse experience, but recently Cyndie pointed out that this is no longer accurate. I now have over a year of experience. I tend to overlook that because most of what I have come to know has been gained through simply standing among the herd, feeding them, or cleaning up after them. I have had very little formal training.
So far, my intuition has served me well. The horses came to us already trained and well-mannered, so there wasn’t a need for us to do a lot of work. Primarily, we have endeavored to get them familiar and comfortable here in their new home, and with us as their handlers. My simple routines of caring for the horses seem to be working well for both them and me.
Be aware of your bearing
Your bearing, your overall manner and conduct, is a blend of your attitude and your physical carriage. Your demeanor is what makes you brighten up a room when you walk in or causes people to turn away from you. So it is with horses.
You carry a certain amount and type of light with you wherever you go, and when you approach a horse, that light can be repelling or attracting. Your bearing is the air about you, your outlook, your manner. With it, you might fool some people on occasion, but you never fool a horse.
101 Ground Training Exercises for Every Horse and Handler by Cherry Hill
Our herd leader, Legacy, is the one horse who I have a suspicion is inclined to test my level of knowledge. I don’t think I always catch it, but something told me to assert my authority when he, and eventually the others, would take bites of hay off the bale I was bringing into the paddock in a wheelbarrow.
I started bringing a boundary aid with me and have established that no one gets any bites while it is in my wheelbarrow.
They still tend to test whether that was a temporary rule or not, but it is easy to let them know my policy still stands. They clearly grasp the concept.
Something else about Legacy: he continues to wear his blanket a little askew. I think he knows it bugs me, and he won’t let me fix it. Maybe it’s one small way he can pretend I’m not the boss of him. I’ll give him that one.
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Sub-Zero Routine
As we stepped out of the barn last night, after our late bed-check of the horses, Cyndie commented about how much she likes that we have been sharing this night trip to the barn. I do, too. Every chore is better when you can split the load.
The past week has produced an uninterrupted string of below-zero temperatures overnight and the forecast indicates this will continue for some time. The cold gets compounded by some very windy periods which have created dangerous wind chills. To be safe, it has become routine to bring the horses inside the barn overnight.
We let them out during the day so they can soak up the sunshine and move around to their hearts content. This also gives me space and time to clean the stalls. At sunset, they come up for their dinner feeding, which is when I have been moving them back inside.
Somewhere around 9 p.m., Cyndie or I take Delilah out for her last walk of the night. Lately, we have both been going, because we also make a special stop at the barn. The horses stay warm by burning calories and need to have enough hay to keep their furnaces fueled, so during this extreme weather we have added a night-time status check.
It feels like such an intrusion to disrupt their quiet dark space at that hour, so I suggested we use our headlamps and leave the overhead lights off for this late-hour visit, to minimize the disturbance. The horses appear to accept this gesture and remain calm and quiet while we go about our business.
Making everything routine helps them to feel comfortable with our presence. With hushed tones we navigate topping off the hay reserves in each stall, each of us grabbing a couple of flakes off a bale and visiting two of the stalls.
Then we turn our attention to their water buckets, adding water as needed and straining out hay debris that they all spill in there. Cayenne is the worst, as she loves to dip her nose in her water when her mouth is full. Her bucket and hay bin become a frozen hay-cicle. Legacy is the neat-nick who barely drops a few stray strands of hay in his.
As quiet as possible, Cyndie slides the stall doors open and steps in to strain out the soggy hay while I fill a spare bucket with water from the frost-proof hydrant. We do a little hand-off of strainer and bucket through the door and she pours it in.
In a way, it is a lot of rigmarole but the horses understand the drill and tolerate us quietly. We tip our headlamps down to keep them out of the horses eyes, so it becomes this tiny circle of light we move around within, amid the larger space of darkness and sleepy equine souls.
In minutes, we leave as quietly as we came. Stepping back out into the frigid night air, we realize that as cold as it is in the barn, it does protect them from the extreme bite that these winter evenings have been dishing out this week. Our new routine is helping all of us cope as well as possible during these sub-zero nights.
My experience dictates that when this pattern finally breaks, the next phase of winter will feel remarkably warm and comfortable to us. We’ll adjust our routine to one that is much more relaxed. The horses will stay outside at night again, and I won’t have to clean their stalls every day. Until that time, we’ll keep making our special night-time excursions to tuck the horses in for the night.
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Reclaiming Routine
We are mostly back to our Wintervale routine again. The horses are grazing hay from the slow feeder boxes as if that is the way they have always done it. I’ve noticed that Dezirea and Legacy have no problem sharing a box and eating together, while Cayenne eats alone and Hunter appears the odd horse out. I don’t know whether she is forcing the situation or he is choosing this on his own. He eventually takes a turn, but waits for his opening.
For the time being, we are electing to let their herd behavior play out. Cyndie mentioned yesterday that she wants to get back out there as soon as her strength dictates to work on refining their manners. The horses have probably had a bit too much autonomy while she has been out of the game.
Yesterday we drove back to the cities (again) for her 6-week follow-up appointment with the surgeon who performed her hip replacement. I have a suspicion that he tells many of his patients this, but we are happy nonetheless that he said he wishes all his hip surgeries looked as “tight” as this one. He also seemed extremely pleased with the appearance of the healing incision.
Cyndie reported that she experienced the biggest boost from simply reading the physical therapy order written by the doctor’s assistant, which said, “Prognosis for full recovery: Excellent.“
The surgeon wants Cyndie to remain cautious for another 6 weeks to give her body every opportunity to grow around the artificial joint with a goal of avoiding any dislocations for a good 30 years on. She is cleared to drive and hopes to return to work on Monday. We spent time waiting at the Minnesota DMV to pick up the disability parking tag authorized by her doctor, only to learn we needed to get it from Wisconsin.
Then we were able to spend a bit more time waiting at the Wisconsin DMV office. They told her it was the craziest day with the most people they had ever served, and were short staff due to it being the day after a holiday. Luckily, and contrary to the all too frequently faced reality, Cyndie was greeted by an exceptionally pleasant and helpful clerk who shared these details while taking time to phone Cyndie’s doctor for information that was missing from the form.
Seriously! He didn’t send her off to fill out the form properly and come back at a later time. And at the end of a day that was their busiest ever.
Could this be the kind of benefit one experiences when they have sent love to those around them? We like to think so.
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Little Things
In the long, slow transition to normal after an invasive surgical procedure like Cyndie’s hip replacement, little things like putting on socks and shoes, or climbing our spiral staircase become significant landmarks that have a huge impact on our perceptions. Yesterday we enjoyed a day that felt notably normal, other than the fact that I had to drive Cyndie to a hair appointment in Hudson.
She is experiencing increasing success in dressing herself and walking, as well as telecommuting to meetings at her school district job. Her sleep is greatly improved, which is giving her increasing energy and improving her overall outlook. Having Cyndie’s sunshine back is particularly rewarding for me, especially during this period when the weather has been nothing but gray. I am realizing how burdened with discomfort her countenance had grown in the months and years leading up to this.
While we were out yesterday afternoon, we stopped for an early dinner at Keys Café in Hudson. The restaurant boasts the byline, “the food you grew up with,” which is a good description of how it tastes, to our Minnesota-raised palates. Everything that we have eaten there in the half-dozen odd times we’ve been to the Hudson site has tasted like it was prepared by someone who cares like only a mother would.
I am particularly impressed by the fact that this is just a satellite location, 1 of 9. Their expansion to multiple locations has not led to any deficiencies in their kitchens. I wouldn’t describe the menu selections as fancy, but the food we have received is anything but simple. Every bite is “oh-my-gosh” delicious.
After a meal like that, driving home satiated to greet and feed the horses had us feeling overwhelmingly blessed and content with every little thing that has been going well in the last few weeks.
In the last seconds before needing to leave for that appointment yesterday, I finished setting out and filling the second slow feeder hay box I built. This time I was able to set it up while the horses were watching me. Sure enough, Legacy approached soon after I arrived to supervise my efforts more closely. I was very happy to allow them the opportunity to not be startled by the sudden appearance of this strange new object.
I ran up to the house to put Delilah in her kennel, get the car started, and guide Cyndie to her seat in the nick of time. As we descended the driveway past the barn, I turned to see if they were all up eating out of the new boxes. Nope. In that short amount of time they decided the grazing would be better out in the back pasture.
I chose not to take that personally.
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Slowly Learning
I finished my first slow hay feeder box for our horses yesterday. I wish they had been around when I was placing it under the barn overhang and loading it with hay. The herd was on the far side of the hay-field at the time, happily grazing in the warm winter fog. Later, when the time came for them to come up for the afternoon serving of their feed supplement, surprise sightings of the new box in their space startled the heck out of each one as it came into their view.
If they had been there while I was working on it, they would have been putting their noses all over it in curiosity about what I was up to. I didn’t have time to linger with them, because I had a date planned to get Cyndie to a movie and out grocery shopping for the first time since her surgery. We even ate out at a burger joint to make it feel like a real event. It was a grand success, and she surprised me with her endurance traipsing the food aisles on her feet for the long duration.
I figured the horses might completely avoid the foreign object, but this morning discovered one or more of the brave souls figured out there was hay in there. Overnight there was enough activity to leave scraps on the ground around the box and create divots in the bale beneath the metal grate. Looked to me like one or more of the horses had spent enough time there to get comfortable with it.
We don’t want the horses to become frustrated by this obstructed source of hay, so I will continue to provide it in the existing feeders for now to allow them options. The hope is that this new system will be easy enough for the horses to accept as a pleasing source of grazing that is always available to them.
In that regard, I felt there was something wrong with my method after inspecting the results of their progress after one night. It appeared they were only able to make limited headway into the bale, leaving the grate resting high on spots they hadn’t pulled apart. My initial intuition was that I had designed the whole thing wrong, based on the bale positioned with the cut edge to the side.
If I turn the bale 90° so that cut edge is up, it resembles the appearance of growing grass. The ends all point up. It will be easier for them to pull a bite from between the squares, and the grate will be more inclined to drop down as they consume the bale. It seemed to me that would be less frustrating for them. So I tried it.
I immediately discovered a problem in that the bales aren’t symmetrical. When dropped in there on its side, the bale is too tall for the box! Back to the drawing board. That is why I only built one to start. I laid the grate on top and stood there for a while as Legacy took to the sideways bale right away. Eventually Cayenne joined him and they seemed to be having a fine time with it, until the loose grate laying on top suddenly shifted as she pulled aggressively at a bite. It banged the wall and they bolted away in a panic.
The thing is, I may be jumping the gun. I have a couple of thoughts about it now, after giving it some time. I don’t know for sure that the first way wouldn’t work, given enough time. Also, I put an entire bale in there, and maybe it was too tight that way. If there was just a portion of a bale, maybe they could make better headway.
I’m not sure how I will proceed. Maybe if I give them more time, they will teach me what to do. I am slowly learning.
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Relative Calm
For the most part, calm prevails on the ranch as we settle into a routine of rest and healing for Cyndie. With neither one of us needing to go anywhere, we can operate at a very comfortable pace, guided by the regular intervals of animal feeding times which I must act on.
Cyndie is capable enough now to take care of many things herself, so I don’t need to constantly be in her immediate vicinity. Plus, we continue to be blessed with the added assistance of her mother’s occasional visits, or the home-care nurses and physical therapist.
We received a dusting of snow after last weekend’s melt, making our views a bit more photogenic again, at least for this time of year. I was going through a bit of a picture-taking drought for a while there.
After walking Delilah yesterday morning, I grabbed my camera and headed back outside to see if I could capture some of the scenes that had caught my eye moments earlier.
The horses were so content, messily chomping away on the hay in our two feeders, that I was moved to take some extra time and linger among them. Both Legacy and Dezirea had rubbed their manes into a tangled “braid” that defies logic. I have yet to see how they do it, but it is a recurring phenomena —more so for her than him. They tolerated my interest in detangling their hairdos, continuing to munch at the feeder while I worked.
Delilah patiently waited for me in the barn, where I left her while getting hay. It’s a good day when she quietly waits for me there while I feed the horses. Too often I feel rushed to get back because of her sharp barks of protest for being left longer than she wants.
The only other thing that has disturbed the peace and quiet we’ve been enjoying is an invoice that came in the mail from the city of River Falls. In addition to needing to pay for the towing and repairs to the truck after Cyndie’s little rollover accident, we are also responsible for paying the public service emergency responders for responding. It costs $500.00 to have an accident in River Falls. It adds insult to injury.
Don’t do it, folks. It is not worth it. That money is better spent on groceries. It irks me to no end that they show up and park their cars with flashing lights while the tow truck works, and then bill you five hundred bucks. If they are going to charge you, they should at least inform you, and give you a choice of having them respond or not.
Talk about a dis-incentive for calling for help. Something is seriously messed up if our tax dollars are not sufficient to fund public services. And they have a monopoly. We should have a choice of more affordable options. If they want to charge for services, then privatize it and let us shop for a responder who charges the fairest price.
I told Cyndie that she is not allowed to have any future accidents in or around River Falls, WI. We can’t afford it. We’ve got horses to feed.
Speaking of the horses, that reminds me, it’s time to go back to grazing. I’m going to return to that place of calm. I don’t have to pay an extra fee to do that.
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Relative Something 