My Horses
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I was about to answer a comment from cindershadow last night, but then I wanted to show her my horses. (I'll do that later, CS, probably tomorrow.) So, I formatted some pics, loaded them in PhotoBucket, and started typing an explanation. As usual, I got very wordy; read behind the cut for the long version of my horses, as well as some pics.
Many, many years ago (like, 1982 or thereabouts) Mr. X called me one day. I had been visiting his property (open pasture) for several years, riding one of his horses. He told me he was thinning his herd, and did I "want that mare I was so fond of". I hemmed and hawed (I lived in a trailer court), and called a friend who said, "Take her!"
"But she's pregnant."
"Take her!"
"But I don't have any place to keep her!"
"Take her! You'll work it out, just take her!"
So, for one dollar (to make it legal), I was the owner of Willow, a golden palomino Quarter Horse with the sweetest disposition you would ever want to meet. (She had some other name, but she was "Willow" from the time I heard her nicker to her first foal; it was such an earth-motherly sound.) Mr. X told me I could keep her on his property, but that was inconvenient, so I started looking for some land. It was expensive; there was a boom at the time. But 2 acres was only 1-1/2 times the price of one acre, and 5 acres was only 3 times the cost of one acre, so 5 acres is what I ended up with. It was completely empty - I had to bring in electricity and natural gas, have a well and septic tank dug, then my dad and I put up a well-house and garage, run-in shed for the horse, and strung a fence (electric) around the back four acres, had my mobile home moved into place, and put a chain-link fence around it as a yard for my two little dogs. I borrowed the "putting together" money from my grandmother. Between that and the cost of the land, my "free horse" cost me $25,000.
As soon as I decided to keep Willow, I started hoping that the foal would be a girl. The old-school male chauvenism around here often extends to animals, too; I knew that Mr. X would want to keep a "stud colt", but would let me have a "filly colt". (Him choosing after the foal was born was a codicil of the sale.) For the uninitiated, "foal" is the term for a young horse of either sex; "colt" refers specifically to male, and "filly" refers specifically to female. However, many older cowboy-types use the "stud colt" and "filly colt" descriptions.
But the foal was a colt and, at 5 months, Mr. X took him away. Willow was solitary for several years, but she was such a placid sweetheart that she didn't seem to mind. However, eventually I had her bred to a gray Arabian stud. (Long story, saving for another time.) In the years before she belonged to me, she had a foal every year; she produced all colors, no matter what stud she was bred to. So, I didn't think it mattered what the color of the stud was. Unfortunately, I learned later that the gray gene is dominant; although Rowan was born with the same coloration as Lady, she gradually changed to the speckled gray she now is. Pretty enough, but (a) harder to keep looking clean and (b) gray horses are more suceptible to skin cancer. (She has dark skin, so I keep my fingers crossed.)
Fast forward 11 years; Willow was sick one morning when I went out to feed. I called the vet, who treated her, but didn't have a specific diagnosis at that time. The next morning Willow was dead. The vet later said she suspected liver failure but, without an autopsy, there was no way to be sure.
Horses are communal creatures; they simply are happier within a herd and, as a magazine article once assured us, "Two is a Herd". So, I started looking for a companion horse. I found "Sunny", who was agonizingly thin; the owners had left her on "pasture" - insufficient feed - over the winter. However, her legs and lungs seemed good, as she demonstrated by running with her herdmates until we could catch her. *g* A later vet check confirmed her soundness. The best part was that she and Rowan bonded like long-lost sisters; they were inseparable, and quite content together. And Sunny was people-friendly, too; she never saw me without nickering 'hello'.
It can be a bit dicey to increase a horse's feed; they are susceptible to a number of digestive problems - colic can be a literal killer. But I was very careful (Rowan had to go on short rations for a few days, as I gradually increased Sunny's feed) and, within a week, she was eating full rations and running and playing happily with her new friend. The next weekend was Easter, and I went to visit my folks. The neighbor called me early Saturday morning; when he'd gone out to feed, Sunny was dead, with no overt signs as to what might have caused it. (Swelling from snake bite, blood from nostrils, torn up ground from colic-struggles, etc.) She'd shown no signs of illness the evening before, and eaten well. As I told my sorry tale to various other horse people, I learned that horses can also have heart attacks or strokes. She wasn't very old (11), but it seemed the most likely explanation.
The next companion was "Chiquita", a gray Arab that, except for being 5 or 6 inches shorter than Rowan, looked like her twin sister. From a distance, when they weren't standing next to each other, it was impossible to tell them apart. Unfortunately, Chiquita was a bully, and kept biting Rowan. For the uninitiated, horses have a rigid "pecking order" and, when a new horse comes into the mix, they have to establish who's dominant, who's submissive. This is usually done with threats - pinned-back ears, a lifted hind hoof, a snap of teeth that doesn't connect to do any damage. Now, Rowan is naturally submissive; she wasn't giving Chiquita any flak, but Chiquita wouldn't back off once she was certain of her dominance. I kept doctoring Rowan's bites, waiting for the "phase" to pass. But the day I went out to ride, and couldn't put the saddle on Rowan's back because she had a bleeding bite-mark in the middle of her back, I knew Chiquita had to go.
So, I found "Lady", a registered Thoroughbred. (Although she must not have been very fast, because she also has a brand on her left hip; someone tried to turn her into a cowpony at some point.) Lady also maintains her dominance over Rowan, but the standard threats are enough. I've realized, after seeing Rowan interact with four horses now, that Rowan likes to cling to her friends. Rowan and Willow had no personal space; they were always next to each other, and ate out of the same hay-pile. Sunny and Rowan were the same way. But Chiquita had a very large personal space; I think now that she bit because Rowan was "crowding" her, even while remaining submissive. Lady's personal space is larger than Rowan would like, but less than Chiquita's; over the past three years, Lady has begun to tolerate much more closeness from Rowan.
So, how much riding do I do? *g* Once or twice a year, if that. Rowan has beautiful "ground manners"; I can do anything I want with her, including giving her a bath with no restraints. But when I'm on top of her, she can't see me; the signals are different and she's nervous, and she doesn't have the reassurance of me in her view. What she needs is miles and miles of riding, but I can't find anyone to ride with, and she's not safe enough for me to ride alone. Lady is an unknown quantity; I've been on her a couple of times, but don't know what kind of training she has, or how she'll react.
There's a man down the road who's a horse-trainer. I guess I'll pay him training fees and get him to ride with me while we put the "experience" miles on the horses - "one of these days". In the meantime, I don't care. Having the horses around is an excuse to live out of town. I never knew, before I started this, that I'm a country girl at heart. (I grew up in standard small-town suburbs.) I love the space, the wildlife (lizards, frogs, tarantulas, *g*), the privacy... but it would be kind of silly to live on five acres without any lifestock. I let the horses be as "natural" as possible (which means that I also put only a minimal effort into horse-keeping); they have a run-in shed for shelter, and come and go as they choose. It has a dirt floor covered with matting; I don't use bedding straw, so never have to clean it. (They usually poop outside the shed, except in bad weather; then I just sweep it out.) The manure dries and starts to fragment within 24 hours; I just walk over it until I need it to fill a hole or mulch my trees. I brush or bathe them periodically *g*, protect them with fly spray as needed, and mostly just enjoy knowing that they're there.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/0e2fa7cf.jpg
This is Lady.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/af68bdae.jpg
This is Rowan.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/91c0876e.jpg
A buddy moment. At the beginning, Lady never allowed Rowan this close, but now they're often side-by-side - especially when they're waiting for me to bring breakfast or supper! One of these days I'll manage to catch them in the quintissential horse momemt - side-by-side, head to tail, so that each tail can help keep the flies away from the other's face. The problem is, when they see me, they both turn to face me, in the hopes that maybe I'll feed them. (Feeding time not for 4 hours? No matter; hope springs eternal in the equine breast.)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/5d6c4d7a.jpg
Getting dark - naturally. Lady will not allow Rowan to eat from her hay pile, but when they're getting down to the end of the feed, Lady will occasionally help Rowan finish off the last bits. But, somehow, this never happens until the light is fading; it's been tough to get a good picture. But they look so good together!
.
I was about to answer a comment from cindershadow last night, but then I wanted to show her my horses. (I'll do that later, CS, probably tomorrow.) So, I formatted some pics, loaded them in PhotoBucket, and started typing an explanation. As usual, I got very wordy; read behind the cut for the long version of my horses, as well as some pics.
Many, many years ago (like, 1982 or thereabouts) Mr. X called me one day. I had been visiting his property (open pasture) for several years, riding one of his horses. He told me he was thinning his herd, and did I "want that mare I was so fond of". I hemmed and hawed (I lived in a trailer court), and called a friend who said, "Take her!"
"But she's pregnant."
"Take her!"
"But I don't have any place to keep her!"
"Take her! You'll work it out, just take her!"
So, for one dollar (to make it legal), I was the owner of Willow, a golden palomino Quarter Horse with the sweetest disposition you would ever want to meet. (She had some other name, but she was "Willow" from the time I heard her nicker to her first foal; it was such an earth-motherly sound.) Mr. X told me I could keep her on his property, but that was inconvenient, so I started looking for some land. It was expensive; there was a boom at the time. But 2 acres was only 1-1/2 times the price of one acre, and 5 acres was only 3 times the cost of one acre, so 5 acres is what I ended up with. It was completely empty - I had to bring in electricity and natural gas, have a well and septic tank dug, then my dad and I put up a well-house and garage, run-in shed for the horse, and strung a fence (electric) around the back four acres, had my mobile home moved into place, and put a chain-link fence around it as a yard for my two little dogs. I borrowed the "putting together" money from my grandmother. Between that and the cost of the land, my "free horse" cost me $25,000.
As soon as I decided to keep Willow, I started hoping that the foal would be a girl. The old-school male chauvenism around here often extends to animals, too; I knew that Mr. X would want to keep a "stud colt", but would let me have a "filly colt". (Him choosing after the foal was born was a codicil of the sale.) For the uninitiated, "foal" is the term for a young horse of either sex; "colt" refers specifically to male, and "filly" refers specifically to female. However, many older cowboy-types use the "stud colt" and "filly colt" descriptions.
But the foal was a colt and, at 5 months, Mr. X took him away. Willow was solitary for several years, but she was such a placid sweetheart that she didn't seem to mind. However, eventually I had her bred to a gray Arabian stud. (Long story, saving for another time.) In the years before she belonged to me, she had a foal every year; she produced all colors, no matter what stud she was bred to. So, I didn't think it mattered what the color of the stud was. Unfortunately, I learned later that the gray gene is dominant; although Rowan was born with the same coloration as Lady, she gradually changed to the speckled gray she now is. Pretty enough, but (a) harder to keep looking clean and (b) gray horses are more suceptible to skin cancer. (She has dark skin, so I keep my fingers crossed.)
Fast forward 11 years; Willow was sick one morning when I went out to feed. I called the vet, who treated her, but didn't have a specific diagnosis at that time. The next morning Willow was dead. The vet later said she suspected liver failure but, without an autopsy, there was no way to be sure.
Horses are communal creatures; they simply are happier within a herd and, as a magazine article once assured us, "Two is a Herd". So, I started looking for a companion horse. I found "Sunny", who was agonizingly thin; the owners had left her on "pasture" - insufficient feed - over the winter. However, her legs and lungs seemed good, as she demonstrated by running with her herdmates until we could catch her. *g* A later vet check confirmed her soundness. The best part was that she and Rowan bonded like long-lost sisters; they were inseparable, and quite content together. And Sunny was people-friendly, too; she never saw me without nickering 'hello'.
It can be a bit dicey to increase a horse's feed; they are susceptible to a number of digestive problems - colic can be a literal killer. But I was very careful (Rowan had to go on short rations for a few days, as I gradually increased Sunny's feed) and, within a week, she was eating full rations and running and playing happily with her new friend. The next weekend was Easter, and I went to visit my folks. The neighbor called me early Saturday morning; when he'd gone out to feed, Sunny was dead, with no overt signs as to what might have caused it. (Swelling from snake bite, blood from nostrils, torn up ground from colic-struggles, etc.) She'd shown no signs of illness the evening before, and eaten well. As I told my sorry tale to various other horse people, I learned that horses can also have heart attacks or strokes. She wasn't very old (11), but it seemed the most likely explanation.
The next companion was "Chiquita", a gray Arab that, except for being 5 or 6 inches shorter than Rowan, looked like her twin sister. From a distance, when they weren't standing next to each other, it was impossible to tell them apart. Unfortunately, Chiquita was a bully, and kept biting Rowan. For the uninitiated, horses have a rigid "pecking order" and, when a new horse comes into the mix, they have to establish who's dominant, who's submissive. This is usually done with threats - pinned-back ears, a lifted hind hoof, a snap of teeth that doesn't connect to do any damage. Now, Rowan is naturally submissive; she wasn't giving Chiquita any flak, but Chiquita wouldn't back off once she was certain of her dominance. I kept doctoring Rowan's bites, waiting for the "phase" to pass. But the day I went out to ride, and couldn't put the saddle on Rowan's back because she had a bleeding bite-mark in the middle of her back, I knew Chiquita had to go.
So, I found "Lady", a registered Thoroughbred. (Although she must not have been very fast, because she also has a brand on her left hip; someone tried to turn her into a cowpony at some point.) Lady also maintains her dominance over Rowan, but the standard threats are enough. I've realized, after seeing Rowan interact with four horses now, that Rowan likes to cling to her friends. Rowan and Willow had no personal space; they were always next to each other, and ate out of the same hay-pile. Sunny and Rowan were the same way. But Chiquita had a very large personal space; I think now that she bit because Rowan was "crowding" her, even while remaining submissive. Lady's personal space is larger than Rowan would like, but less than Chiquita's; over the past three years, Lady has begun to tolerate much more closeness from Rowan.
So, how much riding do I do? *g* Once or twice a year, if that. Rowan has beautiful "ground manners"; I can do anything I want with her, including giving her a bath with no restraints. But when I'm on top of her, she can't see me; the signals are different and she's nervous, and she doesn't have the reassurance of me in her view. What she needs is miles and miles of riding, but I can't find anyone to ride with, and she's not safe enough for me to ride alone. Lady is an unknown quantity; I've been on her a couple of times, but don't know what kind of training she has, or how she'll react.
There's a man down the road who's a horse-trainer. I guess I'll pay him training fees and get him to ride with me while we put the "experience" miles on the horses - "one of these days". In the meantime, I don't care. Having the horses around is an excuse to live out of town. I never knew, before I started this, that I'm a country girl at heart. (I grew up in standard small-town suburbs.) I love the space, the wildlife (lizards, frogs, tarantulas, *g*), the privacy... but it would be kind of silly to live on five acres without any lifestock. I let the horses be as "natural" as possible (which means that I also put only a minimal effort into horse-keeping); they have a run-in shed for shelter, and come and go as they choose. It has a dirt floor covered with matting; I don't use bedding straw, so never have to clean it. (They usually poop outside the shed, except in bad weather; then I just sweep it out.) The manure dries and starts to fragment within 24 hours; I just walk over it until I need it to fill a hole or mulch my trees. I brush or bathe them periodically *g*, protect them with fly spray as needed, and mostly just enjoy knowing that they're there.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/0e2fa7cf.jpg
This is Lady.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/af68bdae.jpg
This is Rowan.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/91c0876e.jpg
A buddy moment. At the beginning, Lady never allowed Rowan this close, but now they're often side-by-side - especially when they're waiting for me to bring breakfast or supper! One of these days I'll manage to catch them in the quintissential horse momemt - side-by-side, head to tail, so that each tail can help keep the flies away from the other's face. The problem is, when they see me, they both turn to face me, in the hopes that maybe I'll feed them. (Feeding time not for 4 hours? No matter; hope springs eternal in the equine breast.)
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v444/StarWatcher/5d6c4d7a.jpg
Getting dark - naturally. Lady will not allow Rowan to eat from her hay pile, but when they're getting down to the end of the feed, Lady will occasionally help Rowan finish off the last bits. But, somehow, this never happens until the light is fading; it's been tough to get a good picture. But they look so good together!
.