Posts Tagged ‘rescued thoroughbreds’
Quiet Time
Even though I continue to avoid exposure to news media, there are still enough trickles of information that I am aware of Marines being ordered to Los Angeles, where citizens are protesting. It is crazy reports like this, reflecting the many lunacies spelled out in Project 2025*, that are happening right before the world’s eyes, that reaffirm my choice to refuse to wallow in real-time reporting.
*(So I’ve read other people reporting, since I haven’t personally looked at the document; I simply voted against anyone who would have anything to do with it)
Instead, I walk outside and listen to the birds and the chirping frogs, bathe in the scenery of green growing plants and trees, and spend some quiet time with the horses.
Last evening, someone was riding a horse along the road at a slow, clop-clop pace, and it got everyone’s attention. Asher’s hackles went up, and he started barking with great purpose. While the other horses retreated to the small paddock, Mia did the opposite and headed all the way to the fence line along the road for a closer inspection.
When her curiosity was satisfied, she decided her return to the rest of the herd should happen at top speed. It is moments like this that make it easy to visualize these thoroughbreds as the race horses they once were. She did one heck of a beautiful sprint.
Long after all the excitement had faded, the horses chose to stay in the small paddock, grazing the grass growing there.
I snapped a photo when Swings was looking right at me, with the fresh branches of the once mighty willow tree on full display just beyond her.
When the evils of the current US administration have reached their peak, and people like me are incarcerated for any reason they choose, I will conjure memories of standing with these horses and the peacefulness I was able to experience at one time in my life. […that’s hyperbole (I hope) – if you didn’t sense it]
I will try not to recall the unhealthy air quality we were enduring at the time.
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Spring Grazing
We are trying something different this year. Instead of confining the horses to the paddocks for a few weeks to protect new growth in the fields, we have left the gates open. The horses are getting a natural, gradual adjustment to fresh grass grazing this year instead of the controlled exposure we have done in the past, where we increase their access time in small increments each day.
At this point, it’s hard to see if this might negatively affect our fields in the way literature on the subject warns. I’m happier letting the horses’ digestive systems adjust to the transition from dry hay to green grass without our needing to control it.
I also like that they aren’t suffering the stress of confinement when they want to be out grazing in the fields.
For these thoroughbred mares who have been rescued from some dire situations in their lifetimes, seeing them so completely contented now is deeply rewarding.
Cyndie and I are heading out to a pancake breakfast at a local maple syrup producer this morning to purchase our annual supply of the sweetness. We bring our own wide-mouth Mason jars, and they fill them at a discount. We first learned this practice from the people who designed and installed our fences. They had to stop working on our property one day to go to the limited-run event and offered to bring us back some syrup.
I felt like I was engaged in some illicit activity when I met them at the end of our driveway, and they passed me two large, unlabeled jars filled with what looked like dark moonshine liquor or something, and then drove off. After one taste, we realized this was something that we needed to make a priority every year.
This morning, we are meeting the couple, Tom and Sue, at the pancake breakfast to catch up on each other’s lives and also reminisce about those months when they got to know us as the suburbanites making a leap into their world in rural Pierce County, WI. They taught us a lot at a time when we didn’t have a clue about how much we were about to learn.
It’s going to be sweet, in more ways than one.
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Bright Morning
The water line in the Ritchie fountain needed a brief shot of hot water to flow this morning, but that will probably be the end of our water worries for a few days. The temperature is climbing swiftly this morning, and we will be heading out to pull off horse blankets as soon as I finish this post. It is easy to see travel patterns now that we’ve had plenty of days without new snow.
Here is the difference between one time down a trail and a frequently used path:
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I’ve pointed out many times the icy patches in the large paddock that the horses avoid. Here is Mia soaking up the morning sun where you can see the horses cover a lot of the ground except for where they don’t:
That manure pile is my attempt to build a mound over the drain tile from the barn water spigot to keep them from squishing it. The water that drains from it creates that icy patch that the horses know to avoid.
This morning, I caught a shot of Mix’s grain mustache when she looked up from cleaning the spillage on Swing’s placemat.
It’s a pretty cheery day here in our oblivion, sequestered from any gloom or doom related to the evils of this world. It makes me feel a little guilty about how nice we have it. I don’t feel any guilt at all about making the horses’ world as blissful as possible for them.
For now, we are taking care of each other.
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Good Housekeeping
What day does your cleaning crew show up to clean around the barn? Ours arrived yesterday (in the form of me) and did a fantastic job sprucing up the horses’ living quarters. Even though the air temperature was only in the single digits (F) in the afternoon, it was twenty degrees warmer than when we showed up to feed the horses in the morning. The difference was enough to allow me to work comfortably without feeling like all of our survival was on the line.
I hunted down an ice scraper that worked wonders to knock the frozen pigeon poop off of the placemats. Before Cyndie arrived to serve the buckets of grain, I raked up all the scraps of hay that tend to collect in the corners and along the walls.
The horses are always wonderfully accommodating when I am moving amongst them to do my housekeeping tasks before we bring out their food. During the periods of extreme cold, I have also taken to showing up at their buckets when they get close to being finished to break up the portions that have frozen to the bottom, corners, and edges. They all seem to recognize the reason I am there, and they allow me to mess with the food in the few seconds when they lift their heads between bites.
All of my actions are intended to make their surroundings as nice as possible for them. They have all been through hard times, and we want the place we are providing to be the absolute opposite of whatever stresses they have previously experienced. They are living their retirement in a place that we hope in time will erase any residual tension they might still carry from the rough periods of their previous lives.
I don’t mean that to sound entirely altruistic because there is a selfish component to all this housekeeping as well. I prefer the way the place looks when it is clean. Even if they didn’t appreciate their accommodations being well-tended, I’d probably continue to tidy things up just for my sake.
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An Honor
For horses that have suffered neglect under the watch of humans, witnessing them now demonstrating trust in us is beyond precious. I know I have said it before, but it is such an honor and a privilege to stand among them while they eat the grain I have just distributed. When they allow me to encroach on their space to hang hay bags or clean the ground beneath them, it feels like they’re granting me a mystical connection.
I’ve seen them get ornery with each other, and it can look downright wicked before a quick return to calm. Some mornings, it’s not strange to find one or more of them all worked up about something until I finally get their grain served. Then, everyone settles down and focuses on the business at hand.
Yesterday morning, they were all chill as could be when Asher and I rounded the corner of the path around the back pasture into sight of the barn. They stood patiently while I cleaned everything up beneath the overhang, sometimes watching me but usually appearing to ignore me as they kept their eyes on the distant landscape.
It felt more damp than cold as the temperature hovered around the freezing point. That temperature range creates a situation where it is hard to tell if things are going to be wet or frozen. The driveway offered a little bit of both.
The circular spots were slippery, while the rest of the pavement wasn’t. It made it tricky for me to walk on. I chose to stay off to the side as Asher entertained himself by trying to maintain forward momentum when every third step would suddenly lose purchase.
In the time it took us to finish our last portion of the morning dog walking routine, the horses were done with their feed buckets, allowing me to reclaim them in avoidance of unwanted shenanigans from the mares. Given a chance, they have a knack for bending the handles all out of shape.
At that point, the horses’ attention switches to the hay bags they had just seen me fill.
As I unclip each bucket, I like to imagine the horses are thanking me for the fresh hay.
“It’s an honor,” I tell them.
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Eagle Visit
It was a cold morning yesterday and if we had any pumpkins there would have been frost on them. We do have a lot of leaves, though.
The temperature dropped far enough below freezing that the surface of “Paddock Lake” developed a layer of ice.
Since I’ve been pondering our role in the ongoing rescue of our four thoroughbreds, I took a few pictures of them in the early sunlight as they were gobbling their mix of cracked oats and corn.
Swings with her fresh application of mud.
Mix’s nose.
Mia
Light
Eight hours later, we showed up for the afternoon feeding. I was out scooping manure, and Cyndie was inside, measuring portions into their buckets. Mia was halfway down the slope toward the waterer, munching hay from one of the nets hung on the fence. Suddenly, I noticed Mia had flipped around 180 degrees and was standing on alert, looking to the south.
I scanned the distance to see if I could find what was grabbing her attention. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, my eyes moved back toward Mia, and that’s when I spotted what she was reacting to. A very large bald eagle was standing about five feet in front of her on the shore of the now iceless Paddock Lake.
It’s odd that I hadn’t noticed it when I looked around the first time. The eagle’s bald head stood out with its bright whiteness, and it was so incredibly tall compared to all the little pigeons that are about to get their own zipcode due to a population explosion.
I couldn’t be certain how long it had been there, but because Mia had just noticed, I’m guessing it hadn’t been very long. I don’t even know if it had enough time to drink because, as Mia approached the eagle took off.
Luckily, I had gotten Cyndie’s attention quickly enough that she came out just in time to see the big bird’s departure.
A huge eagle landing in our paddock while we were milling around felt like a nice ‘hat tip’ of appreciation from the universe to let us know things are good here.
It also tells me I’m not the only one noticing that little puddle seems to be forming into more than just a puddle. I’m feeling all the more justified in granting that watering hole a real name.
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Rescued Forever
How long does it take to rescue an animal? I suggest that it takes forever. Once a horse is rescued, it is (hopefully) never not rescued after that.
Think of the hypothetical question: How long will you be a parent? Forever, of course. Kids don’t stop being your children when they turn into adults.
Every time we serve up the buckets of cracked grains in the morning and afternoon, I feel the sensation of rescuing these horses from a time in their past when they weren’t being given enough to eat.
In the three and a half years these horses have been living with us, we’ve witnessed a lot of changes in them. However, even after all that time, I don’t believe they have fully processed the neglect they suffered. They all still show disinterest in being hugged, although they now allow us to get face-to-face with them and occasionally accept some hand scratches.
Nurturing their horse spirit as often as possible is part of the forever rescue. I watched them strike poses of high alert when I showed up outside the back pasture fence line on the ATV pulling a trailer filled with broken blocks of the demolished old chimney crown.
I’ve seen them lay down to nap when I am roaring around on the 4-wheeler plowing snow so I don’t think that was what they were reacting to. It was more likely the trailer that was bothering them. Plus, I was lifting blocks and tossing them into the drainage ditch. That may have looked suspicious to them.
It’s good to see them run around and then move in for a better view. This is their environment, and they are policing it accordingly. If something potentially threatening is unfolding, they want to know as much about it as possible.
The good news is that they are able to settle down quickly and get back to lounging around like royalty once they determine the odd thing in the area is not a threat.
And isn’t lounging like royalty something every forever-rescued creature deserves to be able to do?
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Ages Advance
Happy New Year!
Since it is now the year 2024 I am going to do nothing different. It’s just the way I am. Step outside and look around, it doesn’t look any different than 2023. It’s different for the horses, though.
In a tradition dating back to the 18th century (ref), thoroughbred racehorses’ ages are incremented on January 1st. New Year’s Day is a 4-x birthday at Wintervale Ranch. The months of our horses’ actual births are February, March, April, and May, but their ages are bumped up on the first day of the year to standardize all horse ages.
This puts Swings at 29.
Next oldest is Mia at 24.
Light is 21.
Mix is 20.
In a rough comparison with human ages, Mix and Light are in their early 60s. Mia around 70 and Swings over 80. The average lifespan of a thoroughbred racehorse is 25-28 and with good care and healthy life, they can live beyond 30. I don’t know how much impact the hardships our four rescues may have endured in their lives will have on their ultimate longevity but we are offering them the best care we can while they are here.
None of them are showing any sign of slowing down.
I was just noticing yesterday that we have settled into a pretty consistent feeding routine with the new buckets by splitting them into specific pairs. There has been a lot less shenanigans between them after the feed is served. We continue to deliver Mia’s feed moistened and in a flat pan. The others seem reasonably satisfied with the buckets. I like that we’ve eliminated the mess of Light stepping in and kicking over the pan as she was prone to do.
Here’s hoping they continue to enjoy their lives with us in the year ahead. They are a big part of the love energy we strive to nurture.
May you discover new and increasing amounts of love today, this new year, and always. If you choose to set new intentions at the turn of a year, consider a supernatural dose of growing and spreading love in your goals.
It fits well with our salutations of making a new year happy!
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About Light
The horses’ rescheduled hoof trimming appointment happened yesterday afternoon. As usual, three of the four horses stood well for the farrier. The fourth, Light, was her typically less-than-cooperative self. In the more than two years that these horses have been with us, we have hypothesized what the trigger is that causes Light to fight against standing to have her hooves trimmed.
None of our many ideas about her issue, and what we could do to help her get over it, have led to definitive change. In thinking about her last night, I came to this: even though Light carries herself well most of the time, I now think that she is masking an ongoing stress she continues to harbor.
Cyndie agrees and reminded me that we’ve been told that Light was twice rescued from a kill pen. Some places buy and sell horses strictly for profit at the expense of the animal’s well-being.
According to an ASPCA web page,
An international market for horse meat drives the export and slaughter of American equines in Mexico and Canada. Some horses are purchased by kill buyers and sent directly to slaughter. Other horses are posted for sale, typically online, with urgent messaging encouraging the public to “save” them from the slaughterhouse by paying a “bail” price.
advancing-horse-welfare/truth-about-kill-pen-bail-outs
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That “bail” price ends up being much higher than the horse would cost in an ethical sale situation.
If our Light was caught in this scheme twice (the second occurrence reportedly with one of her foals), that means plenty of time when she was confined in substandard conditions.
One of Light’s behaviors that we see almost every feeding session is a leg spasm motion and a tendency to paw at her feed pan, almost always resulting in tipping it over or stepping directly in the middle of her food. It doesn’t seem to faze her one bit and she just continues eating from the dirt or switching over to another horse’s pan (Swings or Mia; never Mix).
It gives us the impression that she was possibly hobbled at some point and it has had a lingering effect. That would certainly relate to the difficulty Light has with standing for the farrier.
If Light is putting energy into “pretending” she is just fine most of the time, that seems like it would be exhausting. It gives me new inspiration to try giving her extra assurance that she is safe and respected every time I am near her. I’ve let myself assume that the two-and-a-half years she’s been here would be sufficient for her to already know that.
Cyndie has seen a photo of how Light looked when she first came to This Old Horse and tells me the level of starvation was shocking. It is helpful for me to remember how far Light has come to look as good as she does, physically. I think she still has a ways to go mentally.
With a little increase in focus, I’m hoping we can help her to more fully reclaim her best self.
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Winter Coat
We might be receiving a coating of ice, sleet, and/or snow this week. The large winter storm impacting much of our country may or may not reach us. We are located in a county on the edge of all the areas lit up with alerts and warnings. Among the many uncertainties in predicting the exact path of winter storms, I am well aware of the possibility we will not escape some level of winter weather hassle.
I wasn’t aware of having thoughts about the coming weather when I paused with the horses yesterday to admire their winter coats. Swings can look so regal at times.
She is the eldest of the herd, turning 28 in January. I’ve been told we increment the ages of the horses on January first, regardless of when they were foaled. At 28 in horse-years, her age compares to an 80-year-old human. I often view her as being the eldest mare of the bunch but there are plenty of times when she seems surprisingly youthful.
I took a close-up photo of Light’s winter coat. If it starts raining today they will appear much less fluffy. When they are dry like that, there is an urge to just bury your face against them and breath in their scent. The urge is not always acted upon since they are 1200+ pounds and might make unexpected quick maneuvers that don’t take into account the location of a person.
We are expected to move out of the way of our own accord as quickly as they do.
Funny how calming it is to stand among them even though the opportunity for instant chaos is always present. Yesterday, Mia startled me by doing a full-body flinch in response to the sudden appearance of a loudly flapping barn pigeon. One second later, complete calm returns.
These four still show minimal tolerance for hands-on affection. There have been rare instances where they linger and appear to be enjoying a brush or hand scratches but it is much more common for them to step away as soon as we show signs of being too “handy.”
I keep hoping that will continue to slowly change. When it comes time to shed those winter coats, we’d love to help them all out with some thorough brushing. That’s getting ahead of things, however. Today, we will all need some winter coats that shed moisture if the incoming precipitation slides just a little farther east than predicted.
If things become too unruly around here, I may need to consider putting horses inside the barn in the stalls. That is NOT something that will be easy to do by myself, so I’m hoping the horses will simply take advantage of the overhang and avoid getting too wet and cold.
Wish us luck.
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Relative Something 