Posts Tagged ‘Wintervale Ranch’
Horse Smart
This coming April will mark two years since the four retired/rescued Thoroughbred brood mares from This Old Horse arrived at Wintervale. How well have I described the horses in my posts over the years they’ve been with us? Test your knowledge with the following 8 questions (Answer key at the bottom of this post):
- Which horse is able to move Swings off her food?
A) Mix
B) Light
C) Mia
D) All the above
E) None of the above
2. Which horse puts her nostril up to my face to breathe my scent almost every time we meet?
A) Swings
B) Mix
C) Light
D) Mia
E) All the above
F) None of the above
3. Which horse is the most skittish?
A) Swings
B) Mix
C) Light
D) Mia
E) All the above
F) None of the above
4. Which horse always stays dry under the overhang when it rains or snows?
A) Swings
B) Mix
C) Light
D) Mia
E) All the above
F) None of the above
5. When we separate the horses into two pairs, what is the most common arrangement?
A) Swings/Mix; Light/Mia
B) Mix/Mia; Swings/Light
C) Light/Mix; Swings/Mia
D) All the above
E) We never separate the horses
6. Which horse is the slowest at finishing all the feed in her pan?
A) Swings
B) Mix
C) Light
D) Mia
E) All the above
F) None of the above
7. Which two horses are currently supposed to receive an extra serving of feed at noon?
A) Swings and Mix
B) Light and Mia
C) Mix and Mia
D) Swings and Light
E) Non of the above
8. Which horse is the least likely to stand patiently for the farrier to get a complete trim of all four hooves?
A) Swings
B) Mix
C) Light
D) Mia
E) All the above
.
Last night I struggled over choosing to close gates to minimize shenanigans again because it is still dangerously slippery on the slopes beyond the overhang but in the end left things open for them to move between paddocks. I’ve been watching them often enough to recognize the posturing that looks a lot like bullying tends to fade after a few spats and all four settle into a zen-like chill. My trust that it stays that way after I’m gone is about 50/50.
I witnessed Light using one of the hay-paths I created to get down to the waterer, although, once she got down there she just turned around without drinking and came right back up. At least it proves they are able to take advantage of it if they choose.
Do you feel like you have a sense of the four horse personalities?
If you scored less than 50%, I should do a better job of describing each member of the herd. Just because I know all the answers to this test doesn’t mean I can leave out these details about the four equine stars of our show.
Test answer key: 1)B 2)B 3)D 4)A 5)A 6)B 7)C 8)C
.
Aerial View
We were finishing breakfast yesterday morning when our friend, Mike Wilkus, texted that he and his niece would be flying over our place in twenty minutes. Cyndie responded that we would be out in our field with the horses and asked for a photo of the labyrinth. Right on time, we heard the sound of a small plane approaching.
They flew right over us and made a turn to come around again. It was easiest for us to see them when they were right over us but from my experience as a passenger in small planes, I knew it is most difficult to see what is directly below. It felt a little dorky to be waving my arms broadly toward a small visible speck of a plane so far away in the sky, but I was guessing that was when they would have the best-angled view of us.
Soon, Mike was sending us pictures he took and Cyndie was sending hers right back. It went a little like this:
The four horses stand out pretty well in that last image. Cyndie, Delilah and I were a little above and to the right of the horses. To the right of us, the bottom portion of our brand spanking new driveway stands out rather nicely, too. Looks pretty good even from that altitude.
.
.
Getting Swampy
We haven’t put out our rain gauges yet because the nighttime temperatures have continued to drop below freezing with annoying regularity. As a result, I don’t know how many inches of rain have fallen in the last few days but Friday some of our drainage ditches were flowing incredibly high so we’ve received a significant amount.
In deference to the conditions we are experiencing, I fixed the Wintervale logo.
We might as well call the place, Wintervale Swamp.
There is even a new lake that formed in the small paddock. I don’t know if it will show up in the satellite view, but if the DNR allows it, I think we should call it “Willow Lake” for the tree under which it formed.
For as much of a disaster the excess moisture is for the paddocks, the lawn above it is looking mighty happy and has greened up noticeably in the last few days.
For the time being, we are keeping the horses off the pasture grass to give it a chance to recover from winter before facing the heavy pressures of their hooves and voracious grazing. They can see and smell the greening and the growing and I think it is making them increasingly tired of flakes of baled hay.
I certainly don’t want to have things dry up to a crisp and turn into a drought, but it sure would be nice to move things closer to a happy medium. Any name changes to “swamp” are meant to be very temporary.
.
.
Just Go
Figuring out where to start when you have no idea where you are going shouldn’t really be a problem. Just go. From wherever you happen to be, just take off. Doesn’t really matter where you start once you are sailing along smoothly into the unknown.
Take my writing of this post… I have no idea where it’s going.
We had no idea our Wintervale had been added to the list of locations on the website of This Old Horse. Click to see.
Cyndie described quite a scene last night about her challenges to split the four horses into two pairs. With Mix’s pattern of sometimes being excessively “bossy” over the two chestnuts, Mia and Light, Cyndie likes to close gates to separate them during rainy weather so everyone has equal access to the space beneath the overhang.
Otherwise, we have noticed Mix posturing to leave Mia out in the cold rain because Mia is too timid to make her way to the other open side.
While Cyndie was working to isolate the chestnuts, Mix undid a chain and made her way into the barn uninvited. Inside, she found Delilah tethered and Delilah quickly shepherded the startled mare back to where she belonged. Or, at least, back in the direction from which she had come.
Mix came out and took a position on the wrong side from where Cyndie wanted her. No surprise there. Eventually, Cyndie succeeded in reaching the goal of having everyone where she wanted them.
The horses seem happier every day with their situation and surroundings, but they still have moments of dissatisfaction. Don’t we all?
Around dinnertime, the rain started to fall, just as predicted.
We settled inside and took in a couple episodes of “Longmire” to distract ourselves from reality for a little while. We are enamored with the modern-day (2012) western crime drama set in Wyoming, even after stumbling on the lead actor, Robert Taylor’s Australian accent when he spoke out of character for one of the “special features.”
He had us fooled. We had no clue the words he speaks as “Walt Longmire” were with an “acted” dialect. Bravo to his performance.
Too bad I’ve found myself hyper-critical of plot holes and incongruities in my movie and television viewing lately. It has me fully understanding why reading books is better than watching movie versions of stories.
When the storyline involves a ferocious winter storm, I can visualize that precisely in my mind, along with all it would entail, during, and after the weather passes. I would set a fantastic scene in my brain as I read.
When the video-recorded version is produced and doesn’t come close to depicting the visuals of the storm they meant to convey, my suspended disbelief collapses.
“Why is he wearing snowshoes when the snow isn’t deep enough there?”
“Why is there no snow clinging to the branches of those evergreen trees?”
“I thought they said this was the worst winter storm in years. Doesn’t look like one”
Brings to mind the epic Armistice Day blizzard of 1940. Just because it’s warm in the morning during November doesn’t mean it won’t be freezing by nightfall. That was what a winter storm looks like.
Sometimes, I just have to let things go.
.
.
Excited Anticipation
The day has come for us to receive a new batch of horses to graze our fields for the summer. Everything appears to have fallen into place right on schedule, including a delivery of bags of feed, stacked neatly in the barn a day in advance of needing them.
I have looked at the photo of the horse’s faces for a couple of weeks now and learned to identify them by name so I can make a proper introduction when they arrive around noon today.
We will have our Wintervale flag planted down at the driveway entrance to welcome the truck and trailer.
It’s a little intimidating to find how much we’ve gotten out of the mode of daily caring for large animals. Our chickens are no comparison.
Luckily, Cyndie is very thorough in thinking through details like remembering to ask about restocking our cabinet with medication for treating potential emergency situations.
Between the professional level of detail already shared by the good folks of This Old Horse and Cyndie’s ability to ask pertinent questions about the nitty gritty details of responsibly caring for horses, I feel able to relax and focus on the simple joy of immersing myself in the magical energy of glorious equine beings.
I anticipate it will be an interesting mix of ‘brand new’ and ‘same old’ in the days ahead. I look forward to getting to know the difference between the Arabians we had here previously and the Thoroughbreds that will be here now.
I hope to be an open vessel to whatever messages they might wish to convey as we mingle together when I am scooping manure for the compost pile.
.
.
Remembering Cayenne
Cayenne was a most elegant Arabian mare and a particularly precious member of our initial herd of four horses that christened our new Wintervale property as a horse ranch back in the fall of 2013. Yesterday, she departed this world to join Legacy’s spirit in the world beyond our knowing.
Cayenne was foaled from Dezirea in 2005 and lived 16 years, which can roughly be translated to the equivalent of 48 human years of age. For the five years she lived with us, she seemed to split her time equally between palling around with geldings Legacy and Hunter, but Hunter was her lifelong buddy.
In the image on the right, the two of them were giving me a wonderful reception upon my return from a week of biking and camping one summer.
That’s Cayenne on the right.
Last night, Cyndie and I reminisced about the time Cayenne scolded Hunter after he petulantly farted his displeasure toward Legacy for being driven off a preferred grazing spot. She amped up her energy and pushed Hunter twice as far as he wanted to go, making her point very clear and assuring he got the message.
Cayenne always looked well kept. When others had rolled in the mud or tangled their mane into a knot, Cayenne looked ready for show. The aroma of her hide was always sweet. I loved to bury my face in her neck and inhale her healthy horse scent.
The word that often came to mind when thinking of Cayenne was, royalty.
One other word that came to mind was, magical. As in, magician. One morning we found her calmly grazing all by herself inside the web-fenced arena space despite the gate being closed. She somehow either jumped or high-stepped her way over that webbing without tipping a post or tangling a hoof.
Cayenne also maintained the neatest stall out of all four horses. Despite her penchant for painting the back wall with her poop, the rest of the shavings on her floor basically remained clean. I guess she reserved her mess for the water bucket in that stall. She had a habit of soaking her mouthfull of hay or feed pellets in the water as she ate. Made her bucket a murky disaster by the time we came around to refill them.
Wednesday morning the horse manager discovered Cayenne on the ground and in bad shape from an overnight episode of colic that the equine veterinarian assessed as beyond treatment.
Hunter was already grieving and they gave him an additional moment to come close to pay his respects. He brought his head down to the flank of her lifeless body and took a breath to confirm she was no longer in there. As he picked up his head, he smacked his lips in acknowledgement and turned to look out over the distance beyond.
Cayenne is gone but she will never be forgotten.
.
.
In Motion
In a matter of just a few days, a decision to take the next step toward inquiring on the possibility of offering our fields to a horse rescue organization set in motion a series of steps that has us surprisingly close to having horses back on our Wintervale pastures much sooner than we imagined possible. They are very interested in adding us to their existing locations providing summer grazing space for their rescues.
It is happening so fast that Cyndie and I are finding ourselves dizzied over the mixture of glee and cautiousness washing over us all at once. We are thrilled over the vision of horses grazing our land again, but we need to get ahold of our renter and alert him of the loss of access to our fields for his hay. There are gates to reinstall and the automatic waterer needs to be turned back on and checked out. The electric fence hasn’t been turned on in a couple of years and will need some maintenance to restore proper operation.
I know what I will be working on this weekend.
We have already been given a preview of four Thoroughbreds that are being considered for transfer to our place. They are all mares that range in age from 15 to 26. Interestingly, they all have a hint of familiarity with the four Arabians that were our first Wintervale herd that came to us in the fall of 2013.
I’m obviously holding back on announcing this as official and providing a proper full introduction, but it’s such powerful news that I couldn’t stop myself from sharing at least this sneak preview rumor.
Now you will have read it on the internet, so it must be true.
I’ll share more detail as the situation develops. Probably tomorrow. How will I be able to write about anything else while this excitement is unfolding right before our eyes?
Where did I leave my compost-turning pitchfork?
.
.
No Ropes
No nets, no map, no ropes, no guarantees. I saved the rented movie, “Free Solo” for Cyndie to see when she got home and I watched it again last night so we could experience the fascinating drama together. It is really a moving portrait of multiple levels of the story about Alex Honnold’s quest to climb El Capitan without ropes.
I’m left with a vivid impression of how the uncertainty dramatically exposed by climbing deadly heights without ropes is present to varying degrees in every moment of our lives. The deadly risks may not be so intense, but the uncertainty is, whether we realize it, or not.
Humans make our plans and celebrate when things go right, but things go wrong just as easily.
I think sports competition for entertainment taps into a relatively safe dance with that uncertainty. Both sides might plan to succeed, but there will always be something to foil the best-laid plans of one of the teams or individuals involved. We, as spectators, can live vicariously through the drama and for a time escape the real-life uncertainties about the outcome of our plans for tomorrow.
Will I make it to work on time? Will the weather be a problem? Will there be a surprise test?
No guarantee, except for the uncertainty. That’s inherent.
A tire could blow out. An unexpected storm could pop up. And, yes, there might be a test. You can use your notes.
I don’t know what we are going to do next with Wintervale Ranch. When this all started, we had a plan, but only a vague map, no ropes, a small net, and definitely no guarantees.
We were free soloing.
The future is uncertain, but the possibilities are enticing.
Watching the documentary of Alex Honnold’s dramatic success at the high-risk endeavor of climbing about 3000 feet (900 m) without ropes to save him if he falls was very inspiring.
We are energized for exploring new opportunities in the year ahead and feeling a heightened awareness of the uncertainties we navigate every day. Since they are always present, it makes sense to fortify our abilities to accept, adapt, and respond to whatever comes our way.
Given a comparison to clinging to a sheer rock face thousands of feet off the ground, coping with our challenges at ground level seems almost harmless.
.
.
Relative Something 