Posts Tagged ‘Mia’
A Thursday
There was an unexpected Asher adventure as we were about to feed the horses yesterday morning, involving a raccoon. While Cyndie and I were focused on the usual chores, Asher vanished without our noticing. His telltale, excited barking in the distance instantly grabbed our attention.
Cyndie stopped what she was doing and hustled in the direction of the hay shed. In the perennial garden just beyond the shed, she found Asher and the raccoon in conflict with each other. I stayed with the horses, trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was going on, despite the angry noises coming from the raccoon.
She reported that Asher had the butt end of the still-complaining raccoon in his mouth and took off running when she showed up. When she caught up to him again, across the road at the end of our driveway, she said he was in the process of burying the no longer living critter.
I don’t remember seeing coon hound in the 18 breeds identified in his DNA.
Our neighbor just south of us was pleased to hear he has some help in controlling the population of nuisance wildlife. When Cyndie stopped by to deliver some Christmas cookies, he told her he had dispatched 19 possums and 25 raccoons this year.
It’s comforting to know that we may have gained some tolerance for occasions when Asher might wander onto their property, now that he’s seen as contributing to pest control in the area.
After a couple of days above freezing, we are facing another Winter Weather Advisory from the National Weather Service, which predicts light snow, wind as high as 40-50 mph, and icy flash freezing conditions. Needless to say, the horse blankets are back on.
Mia needs the added protection more than the others, but she was the most uncooperative about letting us cover her up. She doesn’t grow as thick a winter coat and ends up shivering more quickly than the others, so one would think she’d welcome the blanket.
Instead of chasing her around in an attempt to force compliance, we are inclined to patiently invite her to come to us as we stand holding the blanket. Since they were all eating from their feed buckets while we were putting the blankets on, that just meant standing close to her bucket, and eventually she stayed put while we covered her up and hooked up all the clasps.
I have every confidence that they understand why we are covering them up again. We also move hay nets from out on fence posts to up underneath the overhang. Since we only do these things during periods of stormy weather and always return things to normal afterwards, I believe they read the signals and accept the changes without unwarranted stress.
Lousy weather is stressful enough on its own, especially when high winds are involved. The Weather Service is tossing out phrases like “a conveyor belt of Aleutian low-pressure systems” and “atmospheric rivers.”
To us, it just seems like a Thursday.
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Horse Butts
The two photos I have for today are the reason for the title of this post, but the vet visit was about much more than just Mix’s butt. It’s just that I happened to snap the image while Tom was taking Mix’s rectal temperature.
Tom, from This Old Horse, has worked with Dr. Magnusson for many years, and their cooperative attention to Mix was an interesting thing to witness. There was a lot of pressure point analysis to detect where Mix was most sensitive. Dr. Magnusson also drew blood samples to be analyzed.
Mix clearly revealed she was experiencing pain in reaction to certain probing, and showed she wasn’t bothered by others. However, they weren’t able to make a definitive diagnosis of the root cause of her discomfort. After seeing the results of the bloodwork, the vet hopes to be able to rule out some possibilities.
You know how doctors can be about naming symptom causes that haven’t been confirmed, but he did whisper a couple of things that could be happening. Could be an ulcer. May be a chance of Lyme Disease. Might simply be arthritis from old age.
We have a new regimen of pain relief meds to give Mix for now.
Luckily, she is not being incapacitated by pain. When we finally released her from being fenced in, she took off running to get back with the other three horses who had wandered out to graze in the hay field.
After being gone for a few days, there was a lot of manure to clean up in the paddocks, so I rolled the wheelbarrow out to tidy things up. Mia likes it when I bring the wheelbarrow out, where she can back up into it for some reason.
I tried asking nicely for her not to knock over the wheelbarrow, but she didn’t listen, so I reached out with the manure scoop to push her in the butt.
I found out Mia likes it when I push on her butt, so I turned it over and gave her a combing massage with the tines. I half expected her to startle when I poked her with it, but Cyndie was watching and reported blissful expressions from Mia.
It made me think of the Svjetiq multi-tined head massager and how good it felt the first time someone demonstrated it on me. I raked Mia’s butt long enough that I got tired of it before she did. I eventually talked Cyndie into using the rake I had with me to keep Mia happy while I moved the wheelbarrow away so I could get on with my paddock cleaning duties.
Thus ends this episode of “These Old Horse Butts.”
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Wrong Use
We put out a water trough to give the horses an alternative place to drink on the days I will cordon off their automatic waterer to install the new shade sail posts. They took to it right away and seemed to appreciate having the drink available up close to where we serve their grain twice a day.
Unfortunately, Mia considers the large tub an ideal place to wash her feet. I guess since Paddock Lake has dried up again, it’s the next best choice for her. We have seen her splashing her hooves in the Ritchie waterer and not entirely understood her motivation. The girl just loves to splash, it seems.
I tried to catch a photo of water spraying everywhere, but wasn’t quick enough. She can be seen resting her left front foot on the edge of the trough.
Also visible is the static electricity built up in her tail. Is that from the splashing? I don’t know. None of the other horses are showing signs of being staticky, despite our notably low dew point, which triggered warnings to be careful burning outside.
I could tell her tail was bugging her because she kept trying to swish the phenomenon away, which tended to only make it worse.
Eventually, a long lie down in the pasture for a nap seemed to ground her sufficiently. If we’re lucky, maybe that will teach her that splashing in the water trough is the wrong use of that amenity.
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So Rewarding
Yesterday, our daughter, Elysa, brought friends for a day of Wintervale exploration, a day that had been planned for weeks. Cyndie and I have been watching the weather forecasts which consistently reflected a chance of rain. Instead of precipitation, we were rewarded with a fair amount of afternoon sun.
We had spent an afternoon sprucing up the labyrinth in preparation for their visit, trimming bushes, re-balancing stones, and removing accumulated leaves.
It looked pretty good, which rewards us every time we walk past.
There is already enough grass growth happening that it could use a mowing to keep it looking well-tended. I will certainly need to cut it before the arrival of World Labyrinth Day in three weeks.
I’m looking forward to that day because of my plan to measure the circumference of the transplanted maple tree in the center circle of the labyrinth annually on the first Saturday of May. Last year was the first time I measured it, establishing a reading of 7.25 inches as the initial reference dimension.
After the five guests finished walking the labyrinth, they made their way to see the horses, where we were rewarded in several more ways. First off, simply the fact that the horses were in a very social mood all day was a big plus. The horses rarely seem bothered by groups of talkative strangers and all the added energy they bring.
The herd was on their best behavior. They all took turns lingering at the fence for scritches or treats being offered. Most rewarding for me was seeing Mia, the mare most easily startled, stay engaged at a fence gate to receive hands-on attention even after a couple of flinches when something spooked her.
That is uncommon for her.
Elysa was reaching to untangle some fairy knots in Mia’s mane until Mia had had enough. Instead of stepping away, Mia simply reversed her orientation and gave up her other side for scratching.
The most timid horse showing such self-confidence warmed my heart.
Once again, it is visitors who truly bring Wintervale to life. That is a reward we will never grow tired of receiving.
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Everything’s Changed
The rule of law seems to be melting into meaninglessness right before our eyes. When insider trading is happening out in the open, in the highest government office, it sends a pretty blatant message to the rest of us. I’m so happy to be on an expedition avoiding sights or sounds of HeWho (as in “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named”).
Every day that I give ZERO attention to awful people who feed on attention is a day when my power wins the battle.
In our herd of horses, the role of muddiest mare has changed from the usual pair of either Mix or Light to Mia this week.
Mia displays a trait of flicking her head with a feigned biting gesture to ward off unwanted contact. It is very easy to read and respect when she is not feeling touchy-feely. If I approach her with kind words and a gentle hand, giving her time to sniff me and judge my intentions, she may not feel threatened, but she will usually still give that little biting-the-air motion as a proactive protection/personal space preservation.
I usually tell her that it’s not necessary, but I don’t take offense. The other day, she approached me as I was doing my usual housekeeping chores in the paddock. She came very close, so I stopped what I was doing and let her do all the sniffing she wanted. I was happy to have her initiate such intimate contact.
Then she made her little nipping toward me move, which triggered a quick response of objection from me.
“Uh uh. Not this time, girl. You approached me! Don’t be bitin’ in my general direction in this situation.”
You know what else has changed for me? Every time I see something about Canada, I experience a deep disappointment over being a citizen of the U.S. of A.
Disrespecting our good neighbor to the north really didn’t need to happen. If HeWho and his minions weren’t such (expletive deleted), that relationship could have been preserved.
At this point, I don’t see how we will ever be able to regain the goodwill we had before.
I guess not everything has changed. I’ve been told that a certain group of people still blame Biden for anything that is going wrong today. And, you know, Hillary’s email.
I wish there was a way to make America intelligent again. Not that it ever was to a degree we liked to pretend, but at least this current tide of idiocracy didn’t always have unobstructed access to the controls other than in the movies.
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Unintended Kick
I got kicked by Mia the other day. Sort of. It was rather cute, really, since no damage was done, and I don’t believe either of us was at fault.
Cleaning up manure while the horses milled about before we brought out their buckets of grains, I was moving through the short alley between the two sides of the overhang. I had my back toward Mia as I walked, and I didn’t notice her decision to follow in my direction. I suspect one of the other horses caused Mia to suddenly pick up her pace, and she sped up to make it through the alleyway and stay out of their reach.
It is almost unbelievable how quietly such a large animal can move. As I was in mid-step, my heel was up, and the bottom of my boot was exposed behind me. I felt the contact of something on the bottom of my foot before I knew what was happening.
In a blink, Mia’s large body was brushing past my shoulder and into the clear ahead of us. That bump against my boot didn’t make sense. A fraction of a second later, I knew exactly what it was.
Most special for me, as I was carrying on with my manure cleanup, Mia approached in a way that very much felt like she was attempting to offer an apology for the strike.
I think I should do some work on my awareness of an entire 360° around me at all times when in proximity of the horses. Obviously, relying on my ears is not sufficient.
I’m lucky I didn’t suffer a bad outcome this time. It’s best I don’t expect luck to save me when it comes to the next surprising horse movement that is bound to occur while I am standing near.
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Never Simple
We hadn’t had a problem with the horse waterer in the paddocks freezing up on us again for enough days in a row that I stopped thinking about it. I still regularly glance toward it to see if there is liquid water in the pans, but I haven’t been lifting the cover to press the float and verify water flows. Temperatures were in the teens yesterday, but there was no direct sunshine.
During the afternoon feeding, I found the pans dry and immediately set about trying to warm the lines with my hands while Cyndie hustled back to the house to heat a kettle of water to pour over the tubing. It has worked simply enough to solve the problem each time it occurred the last times we’ve dealt with this. Of course, since it stopped happening, I didn’t pursue buying a new heat tape for that line. D’oh!
Since we weren’t prepared to be doing this, and our latest snowstorm was just getting underway, afternoon chores were suddenly getting complicated. While I was waiting at the waterer for Cyndie to return, Mia came down from her feed bucket looking to get a drink. It’s an awful feeling to disappoint a horse that just wants a drink of water.
When Cyndie popped out of the barn with the thermos, she was also bringing some water in a scoop she planned to use to clean the waterer. Mia stuck her snout in the scoop and guzzled what she could get out of it. I took the thermos, and Cyndie went in to fill another bucket with water for Mia. It didn’t take long at all for me to get the waterer flowing again.
If the horses keep drinking from it, the line is less likely to freeze at these relatively moderate temperatures simply because of the flowing water that refills it. If there is no flow, freezing occurs. We’ll be bringing hot water with us at the morning feeding.
Then I’ll start clearing snow. Just two days ago, I scraped the nuisance trace of snow off the pavement up by the house.
It’s all buried again now.
One more thing that’s not simple is the trick of prey surviving the threats of predators. We suspect that friendly pigeon we started calling “Plucky” may have fallen victim to a prowling cat or fox. There wasn’t a lot of evidence left, but the wing feathers were a dark color.
The predator got a meal for another day.
Life goes on. Cyndie and I are headed to a somewhat rare gathering of my Hays siblings today for an afternoon of catching up on each others’ stories. It’s my chance to tell them all the things I don’t write in this space.
Later tonight, I hope to take in a little sports spectating in the form of the NHL’s 4 Nations Face-Off tournament game between the USA and Canada. Hockey rivalry much? I have a feeling this one won’t simply be just any old tournament hockey game, given the current state of government affairs.
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Gross Bug
Cyndie spotted a giant dead bug on the floor that looked so gross she went to get some paper towel to pick it up, wondering what the heck it was and where it had come from in the middle of winter.
Upon closer inspection, it was a shard of Velcro that Asher had chewed to bits. Since Asher likes to focus his toothy destruction on the Velcro of his Tearribles toys, we decided Cyndie could try sewing up a toy that is basically just Velcro seams for him to gnaw on. She has yet to test it on him.
I figure we will be seeing plenty more of these kinds of gross bugs lying around once Asher gets a chance to chew on this latest homemade dog toy experiment.
Maybe we will give it to him next week in celebration of his 3rd birthday.
Speaking of birthdays, yesterday was Mia’s actual birthday. I think I’ve written before that Thoroughbreds all have their ages incremented on January 1st each year to simplify grouping the horses for racing. As of the first of the year, Mia turned 25, but the actual day of her birth is February 13. One of the volunteers from This Old Horse, who has developed a special fondness for Mia, stopped by yesterday with a treat for her: a mixture of some sweet feed, carrots, and peppermint.
The other three horses all got a token serving of carrots to munch.
Happy February Birthdays to Mia and Asher!
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Found One
The day appears to have arrived when this old Boomer has been forced to adopt the “Block” version of composing my WordPress posts. For a very long time, I have been relying on a link to use what they called “Classic Editor,” but the latest update has eliminated my old path to that option. If my posts look different, it is because I am a newbie in terms of using the “wonderful” (/s) features of the Block mode.
Color me disgruntled.
On to what I was thinking about posting. Last year, at the end of the winter season, I planned to retire a lined flannel outdoor shirt/jacket that had lost a snap closure and had been given two hand-sewn repairs by Cyndie to stretch its life a little further.
We both shopped at length last year, trying to find a replacement. I was particularly interested in seeking out the exact same garment by way of brand name and product numbers. I couldn’t find any proof that it still existed.
New and different versions had some features I was after, but not all of the ones that I wanted. We gave up trying, and I hung the old one on a hook in the closet. When the cold weather finally arrived this winter, I pulled out the same old tattered shirt again, just because.
Of course, it ripped again, this time in a long, gaping, three-way tear that wasn’t worth fixing. I wore it like that anyway for a while but it really was getting ridiculous.
Cyndie searched again and came up with a version from Wrangler that seemed to tick all the boxes. It arrived yesterday, and I am pleased to finally have a replacement winter work shirt jacket with no rips.
Okay, I think I just found Classic Editing. Does this look any different? Honestly, I think one of the more difficult aspects of getting older is not having an interest in whatever the next latest and greatest version of anything is. The world of technology pretty much lost me at touch screens.
A flannel shirt with snap closures, quilted taffeta lining, and side pockets shouldn’t be that hard to come by, no? I don’t want a zipper, buttons, shaggy fleece lining, or a hood, thank you. It wasn’t easy, but we finally found one.
For those of you waiting on pins and needles to find out if Mia pooped, yes, she did. Three and a half times overnight, Wednesday to Thursday. She was eating better all day yesterday and seemed perfectly fine to me. Cyndie is a bit more cautious because Mia isn’t yet back to eating full-sized servings of grain.
I feel bad having her confined to the small paddock when she spends much of her time standing near the fence and staring out into the hay field. It is my hope that she will regain her previous freedoms before today is over. I’m letting Cyndie make the final decision.
Asher and I will just keep giving her puppy eyes to influence her to agree with us that Mia is all better.
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Poop Watch
The temperature has climbed above the negative numbers (F) for a couple of days, which should give the horses a break from their stoic stance against the bite of the deep freeze. We are hoping that will help Mia reclaim her usual appetite and spunk.
When the direct rays of sunshine arrived, Swings assumed the broadside position to absorb as much solar energy as possible.
The collection of frost at the top of her tail reveals the coldness of the air in the crystalizing of the moisture from a certain part of her anatomy. One might say it betrays her dignity.
The pigeons were all in on the idea of soaking up the morning rays.
They were occupying themselves with preening their feathers and puffing themselves up for maximum insulating value.
Once again, Mia did not show her normal interest in food and was now doing a little more pawing of the ground, which is an indication of discomfort. We were told to contact the vet. Around 11:00, the Doc showed up and assessed Mia was possibly dealing with an impaction to some degree.
I had witnessed a healthy poop earlier, and Cyndie reported Mia pooped again while the vet was there, so that showed the output was working. To help from the input side, the vet sedated Mia to get a tube down her throat and gave her a lot of water and a dose of laxative. Mia has been isolated in the smaller paddock, where we can control her food and see how much she poops.
She pooped a third time in the middle of the afternoon, but that would be sooner than we anticipated seeing results from the vet visit. We provided water in an electrically heated bucket under her half of the overhang, fed her some grain soaked in water, and offered her wet hay. She seemed pretty hungry and gobbled the wetted grain. That alone is a big change in her level of interest in food in the last two days.
When we get down to the barn this morning, the big question will be how much poop is in her paddock. Having her isolated is a great way to know for sure who is responsible for all the messes I need to clean up.
I have to admit, it’s not often I get to boast about being excited to find a lot of shit on the ground when we show up to feed the horses.
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Relative Something 