Just To Update

Taunie's reaction to seeing a beagle baby:

Morgan's first trip to the barn:

I really have nothing new to say (ooh, exciting) so I'm just blogging to blog now.

The bf (Trent) and I might be moving soon. Far, far away from his mother's house. And while I'm very much in favor of this, my pony is living at her house. I won't be able to see her as often as I do now and thats a bummer. I'll actually have to board her somewhere and pay someone for it! Oh the agony!

On the brightside of paying someone $300 a month to feed my horse, I'll actually have a place to work and train her. I'm actually looking forward to that. I mean, I know I can't do much right now. But just getting her out, putting down a firm foundation for heeding and getting her used to the saddle would be an excellent step forward.

I'll explain the process of "heeding" some other time. You know. When I actually feel like explaining myself. I'm a crappy trainer in the aspect that I don't like to explain what I'm doing. Just trust me and in 3-4 sessions, you'll get the idea when you see the progress. But in my defence, there -is- always progress. I just hate explaining how I get there.

So we'll save that for another time. I'll probably just end up copying and pasting the theory from someone else who knows the procedure because I'm just that damn lazy. I'm totally ok with that.

I took Trent's beagle puppy, Morgan, out to the barn yesterday. She was on my heels the whole time, complaining to be picked up. That poor dog. Trent got her to use for hunting rabbits, but she's barely touched the ground since we've had her. Some hunting dog this lap pup will be!

Anyways, so I decided to crush her reality and take her to the barn. You know. Make her walk through snow and whatnot. Taunie is actually rather good with dogs even though I doubt she's had any experience with them. The other week I had out lost and found puppy, Holly, out at the barn with me while I was doing some drills with Taunie. Taunie was fairly interested in her. Craned neck, blowing through her nostrals, ears up. But she didn't spook. The puppy came running over to dodge inbetween my feet and Taunie's feet while we were working, and Taunie, although a little confused, just tried to step over her best she could.

So now Taunie sees Morgan. A much smaller, less fuzzier version of Holly. She cranes her neck over the side of the fence and raises her ears to her. Interest. Not fear. I think thats what I love about my little mare. She's very interested in things. So much that she learns how to deal with new experiences on her own purely out of curiosity for it. She hasn't spooked once. Of course I haven't done a lot with her. But from what I've thrown at her, she's shown that she's more curious than she is afraid of the world. I love that.

So uh...yeah. Thats that. I'm done typing. I'm gonna try to put up some photos, but I can't promise you of where they'll end up. So just deal with where they're put.

Shack Of Shame

Fucking hell. This new computer won't let me place pictures where I want them. So you'll have to deal with them bunched together for now. I finally got a picture of that small shack/barn thing that I keep talking about...oh! And my beautiful water trough!

Still no water heater, though I'm continuously promised that there will be one. I really don't care. Its not my water I'm wasting.

The pasture is actually larger than that, but I decided not to center on the other side of it since theres really nothing there. I'm so gosh darn proud of myself for helping to build that little wall on the run-in. The boys did all the work, really. But my opinion actually mattered in it's raising, so I'm happy. I'm kind of torn over the structure though. I'm not sure whether I truly like it or not. Its big enough for two horses to squeeze by eachother, but if one of them has a fit (and I've held my breath once or twice) they're either knocking into the support beam inside or bouncing off the wall. They don't have the entire width of the inside of that thing to move around in. Its split in two for feed storage.

It keeps out water for the most part, unless it lets it in. And when water gets in there, watch out. It doesn't drain. It's like muddy soup up to their knees after that. Really kind of gross. Luckily the only one who really has to stand in it is Dusty, who really doesn't give a damn. Thats where his feed bucket is, and he'll stand in fire as long as theres grain being shoveled into his mouth.

Taunie hates mud. I realized this a few weeks ago when everything was gooshy and gross. She'd leap over the indent in the pasture where the water drains through. Big old leap. And then she'll try and leap over the entrance mud to get into the shed. Again, I hold my breath and pray "Watch your head!" but she hasn't smashed anything yet. I can't help but think "Damn, she's gonna be a bitch on the trail" but watching her leap over those large patches of yucky mud, I also ponder what sort of jumper she'll make me one day. Liverpools here we come!

Unfortunately I haven't been in there much since my black eye. Call it caution. I dunno. I see the the mud they sink 3 inches into, or the frozen mud they scramble over, and I just can't help but pass off my next inside visit for a much better day where the ground isn't so challenging. My niece came over the other day and I led her into the shed during feeding time to pet Taunie while she ate. We have a good picture of that. I'll probably never get it because my older sister is lame. But if I do end up snatching it, I'll post it up. Taunie was an angel. She reached out of her grain bucket and craned her neck down at my niece in curiosity. My niece loves the horses. I can't wait to teach her some things.

Speaking of grain buckets...Taunie has become lead mare over night. One day she was waiting last to be fed, and the next day she downright mowed Shiloh over to be fed second. Nasty expressions were exhchanged but Shiloh backed down. Taunie has taken Shiloh's grain bucket, and Shiloh now needs to be fed from a pan on the ground. Haha. Taunie grew a pair.

Graffiti to Tonic

Oh, what good news!

I've been flushing Graffiti's eye out for a few days now. Sunday I spent at least 5 minutes staring at that eye. Just staring at it. I couldn't figure out whether it was getting better or if it was just my imagination.

Monday? It was clear as day. Bright eyed, open to the world. No more irritations. No more squinting.

Score! I was going to call the vet on Monday to see about getting some eye cream, but it looks like whatever was in there had flushed itself out and she's fine and dandy now. I'm awesome like that.

We got our water trough in. I'm delighted about that. For years Trents mom had used an old bathtub for a trough. I didn't really care when it was just the two other horses in there. But once I brought my filly in, I couldn't help but eye it with hatred. I didn't like that old bathtub. It was gross. Dirty. Sharp edges. Dangerous. I hated it. But Sunday was the day we got a real watering trough. One of those big black plastic ones. Its so shiney and beautiful!

Ontop of that she's looking into buying a water heater! A water heater! The same thing she denied me when I asked a few weeks ago. I'm so excited. I know she's not doing it for me. She'd doing it to upgrade her own little farm-thing. But it still feels like Christmas anyways. A real water trough and a heater! Woot! My dreams are coming true.

Lets skip to something different. Trent doesn't like what I named my filly. Even though I named her Graffiti, he just can't bring himself to call her anything but "Emmy", the name she came with. I hate this name. I had trouble with a big gray mare named Emmy. The horse was wonderful, but there was some controversy between me and another rider regarding that horse and it just left a sour taste in my mouth. So I can't call her Emmy. I just can't. However, Trent can't get into the habit of calling that horse Graffiti either. So after some long, hard thought, I decided to rename her. It took me SUCH a long time to come up with that Graffiti name. I think I'll still keep it as a show name. Maybe add onto it. But for now? I had to rename her. So my little black filly goes by "Taunie" now, which is short for Tonic. Trent likes this name. It's simple to remember. Easy to say. And he's been using it.

Showing isn't but a ways off right now so I have plenty of time to fit the words "tinoc" and "graffiti" in the same phrase for a show title. I'm not in any hurry.

I know I promised pictures, but I can't deliver. My camera has no batteries left and I haven't been able to get any.

In the meantime, you can stare at my new puppy for a while

Far From Frightful

The weather outside is amazing. Warm, sunny, no clouds. Hardly any wind. I hope it stays like this forever. The temperature is simple amazing.

And the mud has dried up. Way to set off the New Year!

In my last blog I mentioned that Graffiti's eye didn't want to open during feed. I didn't notice any heat, swelling or draining that day so I let it be after investigating it a little further. For the most part she'd have that eye open and was looking around. But she'd also keep it closed which was a bit of an alarm for me. I'm getting into the habit of panicking at the small stuff, especially things that involve my horse. So when this turned up, I kept it on my mind to keep watch over it, but I wouldn't let myself get worked up either.

Last night I went to feed and I noticed some yellow goop gathering near her tear ducts and there was a trail running from her eye. So she had started draining. Perfect. I grabbed her and brushed away the goopy eye buggers and pried her eye open. There was nothing inside of it. Again, she was using it fine. It was slightly more squinted than the other eye, but she wasn't in so much discomfort that she wasn't using it at all. When I got home I asked Trent about it and he said that he had noticed it earlier but she wouldn't let him catch her for him to check it out. He thinks she poked it on a stick in the pasture, and although I think that has some good reasoning behind it, I also have to add that I think something blew into it from the harsh windstorm we had just the other night.

He tells me not to panic, of course. And I go into planning what I'm going to do about this. Trent is so relaxed about this kind of stuff that it helps me relax about the things I really shouldn't fret over but do anyways due to my annoying pregnancy hormones. I swear. They cause more anxiety than a cat thrown into a dog fighting pit. He tells me to just let it be, it'll heal itself. Of course I just can't let it be. I have to fuss.

So this morning I drive down to the drugstore and grab an eyedropper after feed. Feed went well. Nothing out of the ordinary is ever happening there anymore. Everyone has settled down into their ow routine. So after I come back I grab a bucket of hot water, a wash rag and the eyedropper and catch Graffiti. She doesn't want to come out of the shed. I do the backyard horseman thing and trudge over the dirt thats still a bit wet and sinkable and turn around before pulling on the lead. Finally, after a 5 minute tug-of-war, she leaps over the dirt and comes to me. I hold a hot compress to her eye for a bit and then flush it out with that warm water using the eyedropper. She doesn't seem to appriciate this, but she doesn't do any heavy protesting anyways. Afterwards she looked a little worse off, but thats because her eye was all wet and sorry looking. She still uses it regularly. Still watches things. Still keeps her eye open for the majority of the time. Its not hot or swollen. Just draining and looks a bit irritated. I think she'll be ok. I just want to make sure.

I also did some heeding exercises with her. By about 10 minutes she was stopping right when I stopped without me having to touch her. There was no pressure on the the leadrope. She just stopped off of my body language. I also just had to lean forward and reinforce every once in a while with my stick to get her walking again. We were making such great progress that I felt like trying to trot her, but by that point the puppy we found at Christmas was being chased out of the pasture by Shiloh and Shiloh was causing all sorts of havok. So I thought that was the end of our training session for the day.I didn't do any "space" exercises...and by all means, I thought I'd have to. She's a space invader (hahaha) but she doesn't know she's doing it. By the time our little heeding session was done, she was respecting my space a lot better and didn't bother to come into it.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for her eye and I'm hoping tomorrow's weather is the same as today so we could do some more stuff. She seemed to really enjoy the attention. And who wouldn't? I'm awesome!

I'll also try to get some more pictures by tomorrow. My camera's batteries ran dry and I just have to find replacements before I snap anymore shots.

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.

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.

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.