Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Happenings

So nothing out of the ordinary has been happening, really.

I did manage to give Graffiti a nice big ol' headbutt one morning. That was as painful as it was funny. The outcome was black, blue and a little bit of green. Trent was embarressed to be seen with me in public. The picture taken was the day after it happened. It got much darker over the last couple days and its finally starting to lighten up and go away now.

I've been avoiding his parents who kept telling me during my horse search that a horse was dangerous and I shouldn't be around them when I'm pregnant. "I just don't want you to get hurt!" they'd say. And I'd scoff. So in trying not to prove them right, I've been avoiding them (among other stupid reasons). So far so good. They have no clue I have a black eye. The first day it happened I spoke with his dad who didn't even notice. Go me! My ninja skills are sharpening.

Trent's mom and I are at odds with eachother over a whole other issue and it makes my trip to the barn awkard and rushed. I just don't want to be around there when she's home right now and that limits my time with Graffiti. Hopefully she'll get up off that peg that she's sitting and spinning on and I can go about my daily routine.

Graffiti is a dirtbag. Everything warmed up and things were so muddy inside the pasture and run-in that I wasn't going to attempt another grooming session. She's just about as dirty as the other two horses which bugs the crap out of me.

I did venture in there one morning. I tossed her feed pan inside and she lowered her head to eat. I noticed she kept her eye closest to me closed shut. I peeked around the other side and her other one was wide open. I sighed. Something might be wrong. She wasn't crying and there was no swelling, but I felt the need to catch her and pry her eyeball open anyways, much to her dismay. She didn't appriciate it...especially since she was doing really important stuff. Like eating. But she was forced to deal with it. I found nothing. Nothing was stuck in there. No cuts. No nothing. Heaving a sigh of relief, I let her go to finish her grain.

Maybe she just didn't want to see me that day.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Feet Troubles

So I went to feed this morning (no, really?) and, lets just face it, today was bound to be a stressful day from the get-go. With the horses and without. But we're not talking about times without the horses, so lets deal with the horse issue.

Things have dried up. Well, not necessarily dried, but have frozen. They're now standing ontop of the frozen mud instead of sinking down into it. And because of that, I noticed one little glitch that just tore at my irritation. Graffiti has tiny little feathers. These feathers have dredlocked with balling mud. I must remove this, I thought to myself. So after graining and throwing hay, I dive on in there with a pair of scissors and try my luck at lopping those irritations free of my horse.

Only Graffiti doesn't appriciate this. Not at all. She keeps lifting her foot. Stomping it. Moving away from me. So I back off and grab a halter. She's young...she'll understand eventually. I halter her and try to touch her leg. She lifts it and stomps it...and there goes my patience. I'd understand a little bit if she wasn't constantly giving me dirty faces while dancing around her food. But she's basically telling me that she's eating, and that even though she allows me to groom her while she's doing this, feet are strictly off limits.

So I idley slip the chain under her chin. I have no time for such games. Normally I would gladly spend a few days working with her about lifting those legs, holding them until I drop them. Allowing me to touch and work around them. But here I am. I don't have a stall. This horse's legs will be untouchable with mud when everything thaws out, and I need to get this done now so it stops pulling at her skin. So I slip the chain on her. I reach down for her foot and she jerks it away from me.

Shank.

Wow, that woke her up. A little more work and I have her standing still, not bothering to eat while I work with her legs. If I can't work with her legs while she's eating, then she won't eat at all until I'm done. I trim her front two first and then move on to her back feet. I'm a little leery about her hind legs. She's never kicked at me yet, but you can never predict a horse. I have a hard time bending over now as it is and moving fast just isn't my forte' anymore.

Go ahead and challenge me because I went straight to the chain. I have a baby in my stomach to protect, I'm a lumbering beast, and my horse needs to know what I do and do not tolerate.

Anyways, the back legs were a little touchy. I stood off to the side and clipped and trimmed what I could. She kept trying to lift her leg, and I thought "Alright, so she wants me to pick it up". I pick it up and put it in a farrier hold and sh procedes to yank and pull on it. This fires me up, and I repremand her. The second time she stands well and I cut those little mud balls off. The other leg? A little more difficult than expected. I had to correct her several times before she let me handle her leg enough to do what I needed to do.

Afterwards I gave her lots of praise and pats, because I felt that she deserved them. This has probably been the first time in a while that anyone outside of a farrier has even touched her legs, so I wasn't expecting much. Just enough for her to understand that I will be touching her there, and she'll stand as quietly as she can for it.

I also take the time to pet around her face because she's been showing signs of being headshy. She doesn't appriciate it. Just another irritation she must endure in able to eat her meal. But she deals with it. Something I really like about this mare. Even though she finds what I do to be rather aggrivating to her on some level, she accepts that I'm doing it, and eventually she doesn't even take notice that its happening anymore.

No hissy fits, no nothing.

Good pony.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Lazy Training or Feed Servant?

I should really rename this blog to "Things I see while feeding" because theres not a whole lot of training going on these days. The mud has been so nasty in that pasture that it's hard to step anywhere and I'd like to work Graffiti inside the pasture before I work her outside of it just to make sure we have some ground rules going on.

So lets talk about yesterday.

We had a lot of rain here yesterday. And when I mean a lot, I mean that you could step outside and drown just by trying to breathe. I was HOPING for the weather to clear up so the pasture might dry a little. no such luck. It'll be a sloshy, muddy Christmas. Yay for glabal warming!

I want a polar bear :(

Sorry, back on track.

I got to the barn at evening feed and it was a good thing I went a little early so it'd give me time to sort the chaos that was happening. Dusty and Shiloh were outside the fence, running back and forth like idiots. Now, the pasture was bigger than it is right now, but the extra half was just fenced off. It turns out that a tree had fallen on that part of the fence and the two horses were running back and forth on the other side of the fence. Still enclosed, but frantic that they couldn't get back into their original pasture.

Alright, stupids. Just step over the part you did when you left.

Graffiti was running back and forth on the original side of the fence. The memo didn't reach her that she could step over the fence as well. At one point it looked like she hit the ground and slid because she was really muddy on one side.

So I grab some halters and FINALLY caught Shiloh. It was a good thing I worked with her a month or two ago because she remembered everything, and I needed her to because the ground was so uneven and slippery and I was unbalanced as it was with a baby in my stomach that I almost fell a few times. But she remembered. I hopped her over the fallen fence and let her go. I went to catch Dusty. Turn around, Graffiti is in the extra pasture. I guess she saw what Shiloh did (oh, step over it!) and wanted to see for herself what it was like on the other side. So I left Dusty to his own devices and caught Graffiti.

About 30 seconds after I caught Graffiti, I snagged Dusty. I pulled them both over the fallen fence and let them go. All in all, it took maybe a half hour or so for me to do all of that. It took me a minute and 30 seconds to type it.

I secured the fence with bailing twine (love that stuff). It's not as tight as it used to be, but at least it's at the appropriate level it used to be. Trent will fix it either today or tomorrow. But I'm very proud of my handy skills. The tree branch that fell on it was dead so it was super easy to move. Or else I would have had a whole other problem on my hands.

Tragedy avoided...this time!

I also found out why Shiloh hasn't been stealing any food from Graffiti. I was feeding yesterday morning inside the shed when Shiloh pinned her ears and went after Graffiti. Graffiti whipped around and BAM! Double barreled her. It was hilarious! She's still the lowest on the pecking order but at least she's standing up for herself.

This morning was cute too. Graffiti was waiting by the fence when I came in and Shiloh came up behind her. Graffiti moved of course, but every step she took, her little butt was in the air and hopping around saying "I'll do it! Don't think I won't!"

I don't know whether she has the balls to do it again or not...but it was funny, none the less.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Peace Is Restored

It's now been a while since nmy filly first arrived.

We had some issues with the lead mare, Shiloh...but it all seemed to work itself out. I don't know what else to say about it. One day, she was challenging even me as I stood guard over the filly as she ate. She had left her own grain that was 30 feet away to bother the other mare, and challenged me when I stood between the two. She didn't return to her grain afterwards when she lost. Instead she just ate some hay.

These days though...especially the last three feedings, nothing has happened. Nothing. I fed inside all 3 recent times and all those times the filly waits for Shiloh's grain to be poured and then enters the shed for her own grain. All by herself without any coaxing. She stands between the two leaders and eats without hesitation. She knocks her feed pan here and there, this way and that as she eats, and I stand by nervously (of course I do) watching it get too close to one horse or another and I wait to see if theres any reaction.

There is none. Nothing.

I throw the hay inside the shed. I give them all their fair share in each pile...and then I leave. When I leave, I don't see my filly being chased out of the shelter. It appears as though she's been accepted into the herd. This happened as quick as it would take for me to swat at a fly. One day there was a problem, the next day...peace.

I can breathe a sigh of relief now.

So today since I didn't have to worry and grow any gray hairs, I tossed a saddle pad on my girl to see what she would do. To my delight, she stood there and ate her grain. No biggy. I left it there and threw the hay. Came back and rattled it around on her back. No reaction. I pet her with it, touched her all over with it, padded her, shook it at her, put it back on her back and messed it around. I massaged her butt with it, rubbed her belly with it...muttered a "blalalalalalavlavlablablabla!" as I rattled it around. Not reaction.

So someone has worked with her on this before. I don't know who, since her previous owners said they didn't "sack her out". Just handled her. So now I'm at a loss for things to do. It's simply too muddy for me to walk around the pasture with her without risking a fall on my part. So it looks like I'll be the groom/food provider until the ground dries up a little.

I finally came up with a name for her. I don't know why...but everytime I would think of a name for her, I kept thinking of dark city alleyways and urban jungles. I have no clue why. The sensation just never left me and I started growing attracted towards songs that revolved around that. I started thinking of things that you'd find in dark city alleyways...and a few things popped up. Trash. Dumpsters. Crystal Meth. Fire escapes. .... wait, Graffiti!

And it fits her so well. Graffiti it is. Graffiti is artwork thats unwanted...and believe me, Trents mom was VERY distraught when she found out we brought a horse in (even if she knew about it prior).

I WANT to take more pictures of her, but I just can't bring her to run around a muddy paddock for some good shots. Thats asking for disaster. So again, I have to wait for the drier weather.

Viva la Graffiti!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Peace Keeper

As I've stated before, Dusty is the boss of all. But as the boss of all, he establishes his ownership of his herd and then allows the herd to dwell. As long as they know he's the boss, he doesn't feel he needs to push others around on a daily basis.

Shiloh does. I really can't blame her. She hasn't been lead mare. Ever. And now she is. And as a lead mare, she has to re-establish her dominance everyday. This is how horses have been doing things for thousands of years. I can't hold it against her.

Today it was cold and rainy. The rain froze overnight or something...I don't know. Even though its still cold out, its not freezing. This morning I got a call from Trent's mom.

"I'm not going in to work today. The roads are too bad. Will you be coming up to feed?"

I told her yes, I come up everyday around 9am to feed. She said to call her if I get in the car and decide it's too dangerous.

Sigh.

So I get in the car and drive to the barn. No problem. She also said that I should feed all the horses in the run-in shed since it was raining. Ok, it wasn't raining. It was drizzling. And she's just being over dramatic.

I hop out of the car and the horses are at the fence to greet me. Not huddled in the shed like they would be if they truly were cold and shivering.

So I get everyones feed ready. I give the filly hers outside again since I figure it'll be hard enough haying all of them inside the shed without them having to fight over grain. Once she's done with the grain, I throw hay inside the run-in. I kinda space it out so everyone gets their fill. Dusty has his under his grain bucket. Shiloh has hers in the same spot. The filly? I toss hers in the middle.

She's hesitant to come in, so I have to trump out in shin-deep mud and give her a few pets. I have a whip in my hand, but I hold it submissively as if it was just my arm. Nothing big. I turn and head back into the shed. She follows me. Shiloh peeks up from her grain and peers over at the filly, and I raise my whip at her. We had an earlier encounter when I was dumping Shiloh's grain. Shiloh dove her head into the bucket and threw my hand out. I retaliated and punched her in the face for it. I wouldn't let her near it unless I wanted her near it, and I think she remembered that when she saw me raise the whip in warning. This food was not for her. It was for the filly. Back off.

So for a while she minded her own business and let the filly eat her hay.

The moment she was done though...look out. Shiloh chased the filly right out of the shelter. I cracked Shiloh on the ass for it and sent her out of the shelter as well. If the filly isn't inside the shelter, no one was going to be inside the shelter.

I whistled and the filly came back very cautiously. Only when she was inside did I let Shiloh come in and eat as well. A few moments of peace and then we had another tense one. Shiloh lifts her head from her hay and doesn't even get a chance to pin her ears before the filly shys away and exits the shelter. I make Shiloh move after her, kicking her out as well.

The third time was perfect. It took the filly a little while longer to come back in, and I had to push Shiloh and block her entrance when she tried to come in without the filly. So finally the filly came in and I directed her to her own pile. Lowered my defensive position and Shiloh came back in. The moment Shiloh appeared, the filly went to dodge out again, but I reached up and grabbed a hold of the muscle of the filly's chest and squeezed slightly. This stopped her in her tracks. I was the dominant horse and I wanted her to stay...and she understood that. So, after taking a deep breath, she lowered her head back down to eat again.

Through all of this drama, Dust was minding his own business at the other end of the shed...eating his hay happily. He loves sharing his food with the filly so theres not problem stemming from him. He just watched and ate. No problem.

After about 5 minutes of happy munching, I exit the barn and start to clean things up and put things away. Still no uneasy motions. Everything was relaxed. I head out, close the barn up and walk to my car. I give them one last look...I don't see any horses. They're all in the shed, eating away.

I'm not sure what happened when I left. I can hope that Shiloh didn't push the filly back out, but I can't know for sure. I had moved the filly's hay deeper into the shed though and closer to Dusty so Shiloh could have her room. So I'm hoping everything went well. If they didn't...then oh well. They'll figure it out sooner or later. I'm just glad I could assist with the filly's first time inside the shed.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Girl Next Door

Ah, she's home. She didn't come home on Saturday, which was a total disappointment for me. But it had snowed (of course) and there were at least 17 crashes on our road. None of them fatal, but people were sliding back down hills and off of turns like The Force was willed against them. So no pony for me.

On Monday we had her delivered. Big huge chaos panic on my part, but Trent, my bf, seemed to take things all very calmly like this was a normal, everyday event. Of course this should of helped me stay calm...but it didn't. Instead, I hurled things at his head because he just wasn't moving fast enough for my liking.

The trailer came, parked, and I pulled her off the trailer. We signed the bill of sale, forked over the cash and went to acclimating her to the herd. It actually went very smoothly. So smoothly that it was almost unatural. Dusty, our dominant gelding, welcomed her right into the herd and even though I feed them three seperate piles of hay morning and night, he'll allow her to eat off of his hay pile. Shiloh is a little different, of course. She's the mare...and where as before she was just beta to the alpha in the pasture, she's now alpha mare. She will not tolerate the new filly's presence around her food. Typical bitch.

Feeding time is interesting. The two original horses, Dusty and Shiloh, are fed in the run-in shed by use of corner feeders that're bolted to...well, the corners. I feed Dusty first, then Shiloh. Then I put a few handfulls in a feed pan that we have and take it out to the new girl. She's learned very fast about how this works. She knows not to enter the run-in while theres food in there, and in that respect, she waits patiently for me to bring her the pan. This helps out a lot with acclimating her new grain as well. She's not as rushed to eat it as she would be if she was hounded or competing for food, and she's not in any danger of getting anymore than what her body should for the moment.

So today, seeing as though things have settled down, I decided to see what she'd do if I let the leadrope lay over her back while she ate. I tossed it over her...not even a flinch. So I let it rest there while she ate. I take that opportunity to brush her down as well. She's not sure why I chose then to primp her up, so every now and then she'll pause and move away from her food and I drop the pressure so she'll return. She's getting a lot more used to being fussed over while she eats though, and she's not aggressive with it at all. Just not quite sure why I'm insisting on doing it. She ignored the lead rope, like I said. So I went to sliding it off her back and tossing it back on there a few times. No problem with that as well.

If she wasn't as settled as she is, I would definitely hold off on that and wait for her to relax. But as of right now, she's so easy going with everything and very accepting that I'm not sure a leadrope on the back will stress her out in the least...as she's actually shown me. At one point in time she took a quick walk around a portion of the pasture after eating her grain and transitioning over to her hay...the leadrope was dangling off her back and forgotten.

I'm going to continue with the leadrope a day or two longer and see if she has the same reaction with a saddle pad. We'll see.

I still haven't picked a name for her. All of the names I thought of are strong and powerful, but she's a petite little curious thing. I was thinking Cinder, but as a friend pointed out, people will be calling her Cinderella...to which then they'd die a horrible death and bleed out their eyes. So Cinder is out. She'll tell me when the right name comes by. It'll fit.

Heres a picture for your viewing enjoyment

Friday, December 5, 2008

Time Is Near

The count down has begun and we're still full of "if"s.

Tomorrow I head down to a Festival of Lights with the whole fam damily except for the boyfriend, Trent. The poor guy was already dragged to Thanskgiving dinner and the annual Christmas Tree shopping gig. He's either doing this out of the kindness of his own heart, or he's using the opportunity to ditch another family occasion.

Tomorrow is Saturday, and Saturday is the only day our hay-selling friend is able to loan us his every-busy trailer. The horse has been saved, we have our money, and tomorrow, she'll be in our pasture. Big red gift bow is optional and preferable, but if she's delivered without it...hell, who am I to complain?

I'm a little torn. I really wanted to be there for her shipping so I can panic. You know...typical female "what if"s and the rightly timed anxiety attacks just complete the who trailering process. That, and we'll be tossing her automaticly into a pasture with two other horses. I had a whole system planned out to introduce her one by one to those horses, walk the fence line with her, and then finally let her go to tear around the place like someone had slapped a sticky bomb between her back legs and set it off.

Instead, I'll be Oohing and Ahhing at pretty little lights and stuffing my cannals with earplugs to drown out my louder-than-life niece. I tried discussing my introduction plan with Trent, and he just stared at me as though life wasn't hard enough, why would I want the shipping and acclimation of my new animal even harder? So I guess I'm freaking out a bit. She's my new horse and the last thing I want is for her to run through a fence because we didn't do anything to prepare her.

My friend says I'm over reacting, Trent thinks this as well too. So maybe I should just calm the hell down. I would REALLY like to be there...but maybe it's just best that I'm not and fate is pushing me away for that lone reason.

Either way, I'll be leaving Trent with a camera. Again, he stared at me. But I insisted that he take pictures. Theres going to be lots of squeals, rears, bucks, farts and bolts, and I want pictures damnit. I also warned him that if he dares to take a video of it like he did as a shortcut the last time I asked him to take pictures, I'll club him with a log of fire wood we just had delivered and I won't be sorry for it.

On another note, all of this will happen IF the trailer is available for our use tomorrow. IF. IF. Argh! I can't handle the IF part. I've been waiting for so long and now that the time draws near, I'm in a bit of a frantic state. I can only guess my bf is relieved that I'm not going. I don't blame him.

I'm hungry.

Bye!

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Raising A Barn

Oh Boy.

Trent got dressed today and said he was going to help his dad patch up the barn and build a new wall. He also joked (at that time I thought he was serious) that since my horse was going to be living there, I should get my ass out there and help as well. He ran off to do some odd jobs around the house, and I took my time in getting ready to build a barn. He came upstairs right as I was just about done, and asked "Where are you going?"

I told him I was going to help him and his dad with the barn. He laughed and said that I didn't have to, it was just a joke. I told him I'd come down anyways. He had to leave without me because the orphaned beagle that we have needed fed in about a half hour/hour, so I stayed behind to do that.

Got the little brat fed and I was off to the barn. I got there and kinda mingled around as the two boys bickered and hammered nails. I groomed Shiloh, who loved the attention. Dusty, Trents old horse, didn't exactly love the brush. I didn't have them haltered. They were just standing in the pasture while I groomed, and when Dusty moved away I thought "Well screw you too. You shall live like filth!" and finished up with Shiloh.

I guess they were kind of enclosing the lean-to shelter. Thats basically what it is, with a small storage area thats fenced off on the other side. I guess Trents mom was getting finicky about the wind or rain or something, so they decided to close one part of the lean-to in so the horses could have more shelter.

As if the horses weren't big poofs of fur!

There was a time where they figured the piece of plywood that they got just wouldn't fit the bill...and I was helping hold it up for measurements when Trent's dad saw me thinking. I guess its really easy to notice when I think, or so I've been told. I get a certain look on my face that oozes concentration. Trent's dad asked my opinion on what they should do.

Lets recap.

Somebody in THIS STATE asked my OPINION on what THEY should do to BUILD THE BARN.

That never happens. Ever. I'm usually the female in the place that doesn't know a bolt from a screw and therefor is useless in any sort of situation I damn near find myself in.

I kinda looked at Trents dad and carefully, as if I were trying to figure out whether he truly wanted the opinion or was just joking around, told him that we should fill the small space to the left out with another 2x4 instead of covering it with the plywood and then shift the piece of plywood over, that way it'll fit into the spot we wanted it to.

They totally did it. I helped build the barn. I kept smiling, because my opinion is never asked on important things like that, and if I end up giving it, its just ignored. So I was all smiles. Trent asked me why I was happy, I told him it was because they took my advice. He said something like "Yeah, I don't ask for it much 'cuz it'll get to your head"

Oh whatever.

After about 45 minutes of helping them build the barn, I got bored (no, me?) and a bit hungry (you're kidding!) so I ditched it and went into town to buy some food. Hope they get it done by nightfall! I'll take some pictures of it when its done and post them up later. I know you all probably don't care what it looks like, but I helped! I did more than just hold boards up and hand nails! And I'm so very proud of that.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Please Hold



Trent called Moonridge Farms today since my cellphone is out of commission. He spoke with the horse's owner and told him that we'll be taking her, but we're having trailer trouble so he may have to hold her for a bit.

The owner said that was fine, just send a check or money order through the mail for part of her cost and that will hold her. That way they can mark her sold. I guess someone else was coming by to look at her today and he just needs some security that we're serious about buying her in case someone else wants to take her off his hands.

I'm ok with that. I made a copy of the money order (which is set at the low price of $100), a copy of the letter face and address, and I'm sending it out tomorrow. I'm also holding tightly onto that reciept so I have proof that I got his money and sent it out to him.

I'm super stoked about this. In a week or two I'll be grooming the burrs right out of her mane and tail, wiping her down with a washcloth to get all that pasture mudd off her, and standing her for her first photo shoot. I can't wait to see those first couple moments when she sees her new farm, and I'm just excited in general about spending time with her and finally acclimating her to the world she'll have to deal with since she's not a wild mustang (damn those lucky bastards).

The mail will be sent out tomorrow and I'm bouncing with glee. I just can't wait!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Trailor Trash

I'm SO frustrated right now.

Trent and I went to go see a 3 year old appendix filly and I adored her. Everyone online told me not to bother, her eye didn't have that "calm" look. Whateveh. We went to go see her and she's a doll.

Exactly what I'm looking for. Nothing big, decent with the conformation and enough life to challenge me safely. I don't want a deadhead 3 year old horse. They tend to not have enough spirit to get up and compete later on in life. They're good trail horses...just lack the fire it takes to get them elsewhere. I can tell this filly had the right stuff if taken slowly...and lets face it. I'm pregnant, lazy and I hate the cold. It can't get much slower than that.



We're buying her for the dirt cheap price of $250. Trent and I are splitting that cost. We'd be ready to pick her up by next weekend...IF we could find someone who's willing to loan us a frickin' trailor.

I'm a little frustrated, to say the least. I don't know what to do. Apparently, Trents friend Jimmy has a trailor. Its his trailor, but his girlfriend is making payments on it. Apparently she loaned it to one of her own friends last year without Jimmy's permission and they wrecked it. It's not broken, but now she refuses to loan it to anyone else.

Just wonderful.

Trent said that Jimmy would probably trailor her for us if I paid him. But seriously? Why would we ask him to do it for us for a price if we could do it ourselves and just not wreck the thing? It's a little frustrating, and we're getting nowhere fast. On the road I pass little farms with trailors just hanging out in their driveways. There must be at least 10 trailors on our road alone...and everytime I go down the road I stare longingly at them. I never thought I'd be this concerned with getting a trailor.

And I know what you guys must be thinking. If I can't find a trailor, then why should I get a horse? What happens if the horse is injured or so ill she needs to be shipped out?

Simple. A bullet. Either that or I WILL take Jimmy's trailor with or without paying him and get her help.

But this isn't an emergency, so I can't steal Trent's friends trailor without justification.

Trent has another friend around here who has a trailor...we were supposed to buy a QH mare from her but she just didn't spark my interest. She was...well, boring. I don't know whether there are hard feelings between that girl and us now since we didn't buy her horse, but I don't know why he hasn't asked her yet. Maybe I should.

God, I'm irritated. It's getting a bit harder everyday to bring this horse home. I don't want to hire a hauler just for an hour drive down the road. Why can't anyone just give us a trailor for a few hours? I've never crashed one. I've always returned them in the best condition. This is so dis-heartening.

In other news, theres a little rotty mix running around like an idiot outside. She's a real sweet dog. I gave her some food. I keep seeing her bolt back and forth across the lawn though. She has a collar mark around her neck but no collar, so I'm hoping she goes home before night falls.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Wagon Rides

About a year and a half ago I ran away from my home in Pennsylvania, held out in my friend's apparentment in West Virginia and got connected with a carriage driving company named Hardly Able Carriage Co. Thats where I met my current boyfriend and from there we headed down to Georgia for numberless foxhunting adventures.

When I got pregnant, we decided to come back up to West Virginia, only it's more like the Ohio side...which is only slightly better. My boyfriend, Trent, got involved in the carriage company again to pay off some stuff while he searched for a better job, and thats when we learned about the day long wagon ride that the company holds for it's emplyers at the end of the year.

So...we signed up for it.

The weatherman said that it would be in the 60 and sunny on Saturday.

The weatherman lied.

It was in the mid50's, cloudy and windy. I just about froze to death on that wagon. Trent and I huddled together in the first wagon that took off that day. I think there was a grand total of 5 wagons and 1 sulky which was pulled by a miniature horse.

Not a -pony-, a HORSE...so I was corrected.

We stopped and had some lunch. Everyone ran off into the woods to pee, and we headed out on the trail again. The trail we traveled was an old train track that used to weave through the rural Ohio area...and the area sure was pretty. It would have been a lot prettier if my back wasn't spazming from shivering too much. But you can't be too picky, you know?

We then stopped in a small town for people to pee in a small convenient store. This place was probably as old as the railroad track and had paper clippings of the 30s inside. So we all stocked up on donuts and soda before re-entering our wagon train.

By this time we learned that the large plastic trashbag that was at the front of the wagon held numerous blankets inside...which we quickly tore into. The ride wasn't that bad afterwards. Still cold, but I wasn't shivering and huddled next to Trent for body heat for the majority of the time, so it was alright.

We went through at least 3 train tunnels where the distance to the other side was a bit questionable. Luckily each wagon had been equipped with lights that you can turn on behind the horses like headlights to a car, so we didn't all die. Not one horse spooked. It was pretty cool.

We finally got to the campsite and I helped tie the horses to seperate trees before going to warm myself by the campfire. I hardly really spoke to anyone, seeing as I had no clue who anyone was. There was a grand total of 5 Meredith Manor students there...1 of which I knew but paid me no mind. Deciding that they were better off left alone, I didn't bother to talk with them.

Dinner was served around the campfire and thats when one of the Meredith Manor girls turned to me and asked "You're a graduate? Which Riding Masters?" That set forth a series of questions they all had bundled up to which I was gladly answering and telling stories upon stories to. They asked me if any of the horses were still there that I trained, and I answered "Yes, I trained Traveler".

The 3 Manor people who were paying me attention (the other two were too busy flirting with a married man) "Ooed and Awed" at that. They said they loved Traveler, and the one guy student even said that Traveler was a great Dressage School Master.

I laughed inside about this because Traveler doesn't know -that- much dressage and to think that he does is just...well, its sweet. The horse really does try his heart out. But he's far from a School Master.

We also spoke about some of the horses that were still there...like Appy Jake and Ada (shorty). We ranted about Parelli (woohoo!) and joked about Kelly Fisher. I told them stories about the legendary Kim Hall and shared with them the one time where Sam Cap' tried to kill a snake with a dressage whip.

They even said Batman was still lurking in Blue Barn's rafters. How cool!

So by the end of the trip, it was all pretty cool. I actually felt looked up to again and that never happens these days. If anything, I feel like a lowly trainer thats hit her limit far before she was supposed to. But the students there had so many questions and I could feel them leaning on my word because I was a Riding 6 grad and had been through it all.

It felt amazing...

I didn't get any of their numbers or names, but I think I'll be heading down to the Manor again for another visit.

As for the wagon rides, I'll have to get pictures from someone who attended...I BROUGHT my camera, but the camera card was still stuck in the computer. Lot of good that did!

Monday, November 3, 2008

Buy Lessons, Not DVDs

In a strange turn of events, I finally found a GOOD reference and experience where I could soundly put to rest that no, you can not learn how to ride and train from a box set of DVDs.

It's just not possible.

Over the weekend, my boyfriend and I went to go see a horse for sale who goes by the name of "Jasper". The add placed him as a pretty quiet animal, a lesson horse and good trail buddy. They wanted $1000 for him, and it seemed a little high priced (especially for these days) but I figured that if he could keep me safe while I'm pregnant, it'd be well worth it.

Besides, I don't have anything against retraining a little for right now.

So we get there. The seller's story (we'll call her Jane) is that she is pretty new to horses and Jasper was sold to her from a friend. As time went by, it was clearly evident just how new she was.

She brought him out and started lunging him. She had the trademark 12ft long lungline and a long fiberglass pole that could only be recognised as the usual "I'm new at this and I've been suckered into Natural Horsemanship". This fiberglass pole is commonly called a "Carrot stick", but instead of the trademark orange, it was purple. I'm not sure if Parelli sells purple ones, but I could only imagine.

She begins to spin this horse on a tiny little circle, waving the pole around. The lash at the end of it was wrapped around the pole, indicating that she really didn't believe in using a whip-like tool. Ugh.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this horse's knees are ready to break. Take a look at the front left. The tendons in the back part of his leg are in such stress that it's popping the joint forward. He appears to be over at the knee, but he truly isn.t

More of this and he will be in the future though.

So I give it a shot at trying to lunge him, and it just wasn't going to happen. I was handed the carrot stick and I unwrapped the rope from around it. This didn't help at all.

I touch his hindend with the carrot stick and he didn't respond. Jane tells me to really smack him if I need to, so I try and crack him on the ass. The pole obsorbs most of the impact and I can feel it with how it vibrates upon contact. Ugh. The horse didn't even flinch.

I finally got a few circles out of him but I didn't want him to do much because of how short the lungeline was.

We saddle him up.

Things didn't get much better. Jane hops on and instantly starts tearing on his mouth. Pulling his head around until his chin touches her knee, spinning in him tight circles. She says the videos told her to do this. I literally have to look away.

I hopped on shortly after and this horse didn't know a straight line for the life of him. He kept trying to spin in circles. If he didn't want to go a certain direction when I asked, he'd simply turn his head to the side (like he's been taught to do) and continue on his way.

It was a mess.

So when it comes down to it...if you want to own a horse, of you want to ride a horse, if you want to enjoy a horse...

TAKE A FEW FRICKIN' LESSONS!!!

Those box sets won't teach you a damn thing other than how to abuse your animal and they justify it by placing the word "natural" in the title.

It makes me sick.

Friday, October 31, 2008

So Her Name Is Shiloh



Found out that the horse's name is Shiloh. So it's a fact. Shiloh the paint.

Someone asked me to take come pictures. I like working alone with no one around to watch (I blame that on a previous experience where everything I was doing was questioned and told it was wrong) so until I start riding this beast, I always wait until no one is at the house so I can work her without a crowd.

I didn't get any pictures of the training, but I did snap a few shots of Shiloh beforehand.

Like I said before, I have to train her in their pasture with another horse named Dusty. I don't even bother with Dusty. He's shown. He's about 16-17 years old. He's got stomach ulcers. Why bother the old fart? The first day he didn't bother me at all.

Today he was a little curious. So I came into the pasture and haltered Shiloh who stood like an angel. She was a little dirty and I thought "Whats my hurry?" so I grabbed a brush and groomed her up a little. She really seemed to enjoy it. It was a little bit of a change from when I showed up the day before, strapped a halter on her and made her move about without introducing myself.

My bad.

So today she was groomed and then we started the training session. She did really well. A lot better than the previous time before. I had the chain, but I didn't need to put it on her today. She seemed to know the drill and accept the fact that I was going to ask her to do things, even if she really didn't want to.

There came a time where I had to crack Dusty with the whip once or twice for coming over and investigating, but for the most part he was good. Stayed his distance away to not bother Shiloh too much.

We walked. Stopped. Walked, stopped. Wal-...wa-...WALK PLEASE *reinforce*, thank you. Walk.

We did a few turn-aways. They were sloppy and not as sharp as they will be eventually, but she accepted the fact that she needed to move away from the pressure I was creating, and everytime we completed an entire circle she was given lots of love and praise. Same with if she halted when I asked her to.

I didn't have to touch her to stop her today. I just breathed out and closed my shoulders, and she stopped. Got to the point where all I had to do was lean back and tip my hip slightly and she'd come to a good pause.

Going was a little harder. She couldn't figure out why I was at her shoulder instead of pulling her along behind me, but she's getting better with it.


Wednesday, October 29, 2008

First Blog, First Day Training Whats-Her-Name

Yeah, alright. So I finally go up off my ass to do something constructive.

I haven't done much since the end of summer when I found that I was pregnant. Since then I've quit my training job in Georgia and have moved up to Ohio with my boyfriend. He owns two horses, one of them is an old show horse named Dusty. The other one is a paint that I'm going to guess...goes by the name of Shiloh? I haven't the foggiest clue.

Don't really know how old this paint is, but I'm sure it's a classic "7 year old horse thats never been trained". Uselss? You betcha!

Mare at that...yay. Love the mares.

So now that I'm all moved in and have gotten bored with just growing a baby, it occured to me that...hey, there was an untrained animal just over the hill that I'm allowed to play with. Whats the harm in that?

If I could break her, she's mine. Boy...how many times have I heard that before? I don't want the god damn horse, I just want to train it. Besides, I've got my eyes set on a gelding...

So I bundle up (because today was like...50 degrees or something. Chilling!), got in my little blue economy sized car and drove down the road with a bunch of cookies in my pocket.

Cookies were for me, not the horses.

Got there, haltered the paint mare, and broke a stick off of a branch because I couldn't find a whip for the life of me. Pathetic replacement, I know. But give me a break. I know theres a whip in that little barn of theirs. It was just covered in so much dust I had to shake a thin layer of dirt from myself when I came walking out of the stable. Can't blame me for overlooking it.

Theres no place but the pasture to work in, so I just used what I could. Most people will see what I'm doing and comment "But the horse already knows how to lead"....this is usually right before the horse kicks me in the thigh. So regardless of what the owner says the horse knows, I start them out with the very basics. Luckily I was alone so no one could snark any commentry about something they don't know how to do and don't understand.

I placed myself right at this mare's shoulder, leaned forward a bit, lifted a foot and tapped her on the rearend with the stick. She moved forward and I stepped with her. She followed the aid pretty well. Stopping was the hard part.

I go for a down transition from a walk to a stop by closing my body off and turning my shoulders in, away from the open direction we were traveling, and putting pressure on her pec muscle.

Cue explosion. How dare I tell her what to do!

She charges forward to the end of the lead, bronc, hop, buck...and I hang on thinking "Dear god, if she kicks me in the stomach..."

When she calms down, we try again.

Again, the same thing happens, only this time she lifts the inside hind leg and I saw the bottom of her hoof. She threatened to kick, but didn't follow through with it. By this time I'd had enough.

Insisting that she stand still, I slip the chain which was connected to the leadline under her halter and gave a sharp tug on it so she realized it was there. We tried again. I returned to her shoulder, asked her to step forward, and she complied. I asked her to stop by placing pressure on her chest and she went bonkers.

But this time I had a bit of leverage.

I instantly grabbed the lead and shanked down hard on it once. She stopped and looked at me. Blinked.

This was the last time she tried anything like that. We had some trouble walking past the area that she was always fed at...had a bit of a hissy there where she tried to turn in on me. But I got her past that and decided not to go past that part of the pasture again until she was under more control.

Today, Shiloh (I think?) learned how to start and stop with only the use of my body language. I hardly had to touch her by the end of the 20 minute training period. I'd reach behind me with the stick and step a foot out, and she's instantly walk. I'd blow a breath out and turn my shoulders into her, raising the hand with the whip in it slightly, and she'd stop.

We had a little bit of trouble in the turn-aways...she's used to invading human spaces, I'm assuming. But other than that, she did rather well.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring more progress.