Mustang Diaries

Bad Reputation, Under Saddle!

2012-01-24T22:06:00.000-08:00

With the snow melting, it was time to get back to business with Bad Reputation. A few weeks ago, Darling climbed into the saddle for the first time and I led her a few steps around the pen, and we called it good. Yesterday, all saddled up, we asked the Cowboy before we headed out if he wanted to be there. Generally, he likes to tell me to wait for him before doing something stupid. A dyed in the wool quarter horse man, anything I do with a mustang would qualify as stupid.

Yes, he said, he wanted to be there before Darling climbed up, so off the three of us went.

Rep was feeling a little frisky after having nearly 2 weeks in her stall. She's a lucky lady in that her stall is 10x30, but she still had a tiny little head toss when the Cowboy sent her around at the end of the lead rope prior to Darling getting on. After messing with her from the ground some, he had Darling bounce in the stirrup; first on the left side, then the right. On both sides, he made sure she laid across the saddle and patted Rep on the opposite side. Then quick as a wink, Darling was up in the saddle and the Cowboy sent Rep around in a few circles at a trot, first to the left, then to the right, while Darling kept one hand on the horn and the other held the reins down on Reps neck.

And that was it. Quick, painless, and easy as pie.

Today, same routine. A few circles without a rider and the Cowboy slapping the reins around to see if he could get a reaction. He did...not much, though. Just a step back and a look to ask him what he was doing? Then Darling bounced in the stirrups, then up onto the filly's back. Trot, trot, trot, whoa, turn, trot, trot...whoa...unclip the snap and away she went on her own! The cowboy dictated the direction and set the pace. Darling sat light and relaxed in the saddle, this time two hands on the reins, listening to the Cowboy's directions, stopping, turning, going off at the trot, and then the Cowboy slapped the rope out there on Rep's behind and she picked up the pace to a lope! Was just a few strides, but it was enough, and she stayed quiet and relaxed and waited for whatever else was going to be asked of her. But that was about it. Another stop, another turn, and a whoa, good girl, time to dismount. Five minutes. That's enough for this baby girl. Just enough to put some basics onto her, so that she knows how to start and stop and turn left and right. Enough for her to know that she's safe. Good girl, Rep. Good training, Darling!

Objectionable White Stuff

2012-01-18T09:54:00.000-08:00

For those of you on facebook, Dario has his own page, and his fan club is growing fast and furious! We'd hoped for 500 fans in the first week, but we're just 100 away from that goal in the first 24 hours! If you're on facebook, please visit his page and 'like' Legendario!

Around here? Snow, snow, snow! Just doesn't want to stop. Objectionable White Stuff, as many of you know I call it. The only thing around here that I like in white are Dario and Darling's pretty dresses. And maybe my truck. But the ground? Nope. It can leave anytime now, thank you!

A Winter's Day

2012-01-16T22:00:00.000-08:00

"Mom? You wanna take some pictures?"

Uh, sure! Yes! Absolutely! Of course it took her 30 minutes to get that red lipstick on just right. And her hair to curl under the way she wanted it (it didn't happen, she'll say.) But we did manage to get out there before it was dark. Dim, it was. But it was not dark.

Only thing that would have improved things out there would be if Dario was ready to pose with her!

The Great Chicken...

2012-01-15T17:57:00.001-08:00

....Trainers

I'm not sure who the bigger chicken is, to be honest. All have feathers, but some are braver than other. Not others. Just one other. The four legged gray other. Jumpy, at first, and at second and third. Legendario isn't sure of his life here just yet. But chicken trainers...I couldn't survive without them.

For instance, when you're thinking about getting close to those stout, faster than lightening hind legs, it may be best to send a chicken in first. They'll spot a speck and jump up to peck at it, expecting a tasty insect. This gives you the opportunity to see what your wild horse's reaction will be. Will he simply startle with a mild jump? Or will he kick your chicken like a football across the goal line? Better the chicken than your head...and of course you can have chicken dinner if it's the hen (obviously not, if it's your head!) Lucky for the chicken, Dario merely startled...meaning I had tacos for dinner.

Legendario is getting over his fears, thanks to my hens. They roost in his stall with him. Soon, I'm sure, they'll offer to take the first ride, just as they have with Impulse. This, I'm certain, will set the new adopter's mind at ease. I can tell him his horse has been ridden bareback...and by a real chicken. He may be confused, thinking I'm talking about a fearful person, but I can't be worried about that. It's his responsibility, after all, to read my blog and learn of my training techniques.

Hmmm...you know, this may not be a good deal, telling y'all my training secrets. Next thing you know, we'll be seeing chickens on RFD with Clinton, Chris and Craig!

It's MOVIE Time!

2012-01-14T15:54:00.000-08:00

Legendario, still in the stallion pen at the BLM in Oregon.

South Steens Excursion!

Ditto and Jingles (the old mare, now 28), and Juniper make their way across the desert. The bachelors...or are they former bachelors?...way out in the distance, include Dibs, Little Brother, Red Vogue and Yellow Boy. This spring you may recall Red Vogue actively pursuing a mare I dubbed Fruit Loop (Lupe is her official name.) Here, he seems hardly his virile self, which has us concerned. Yellow Boy (last clip) has two mares and a yearling colt with him now. These mares were with McCloud just 10 days earlier. We are left wondering what has happened that McCloud would lose all of his mares (a coming 2 year old is also now with another stallion) in the past couple of weeks.

McCloud, photographed in May, 2011

The Legend is Here

2012-01-13T16:03:00.001-08:00

The weather went from snow to 40 plus degrees on Tuesday. Crazy, bi-polar, Harney County weather. I must say the drive home on Wednesday was less than ideal. Two solid hours of heavy fog in 12 degrees does not make for carefree driving. Thankfully, it was sitting just high enough above the road for us to have good visibility...but we sure were happy once we were over the hill and away from it!

We arrived on Monday afternoon in plenty of time to stop and take a visit at the corrals. Plenty of lovelies waiting to be adopted, including these yearling fillies. Don't you just want to bring a dozen home?

We'd wandered two thirds of the way around before we came to a pen full of recently gelded stallions. It took me a while to realize that Dario was among them. Why it took me so long, I do not know, as he stood out like a sore thumb in that pen of dark horses!

Our goal had been to make it up to the South Steens by sunset. Alas, we were running late, and by the time we unloaded our belongings into our rented cabin, the darkness had settled around us. With a nearly full moon, however, we decided to hit the trail into mustang country just the same.

In the dark, everything looks different. Spotting horses can by tricky enough in the daylight, but in the shadows of the sage, it would be nearly impossible. Or so I thought, until Deb hollered out, "There! See it? I see a horse like shadow."

We carefully picked our way across the desert floor towards the shadow, which for some reason wasn't moving any more than the sage around us. But there was no mistaking the outline of a horse...so just who was this mustang before us?

A few more yards and we could make out Holly, the coming two year old daughter of Noelle. She was sleeping contentedly until we had stumbled upon her. Never one to have been very fearful of us, Holly continued to stand, relaxed, as we photographed her in the dark. This truly is a lovely young mare. If she is gathered off the range next fall (which is the next scheduled gather), she will make someone a very nice horse.

Wednesday morning had us up early, ready to load up and head home. Legendario was waiting. I snapped a few photos, and sent one to his future adopter via my cell phone while I was at it (don't you love cell phones and what they can do?!)

Aside from the fog, the drive was smooth sailing. It's a 12 hour drive from my place to the corrals, and by the time we arrived back here, Dario was exhausted. I can't even imagine what must go through the mind of a mustang in the months between gather and becoming gentled. Thankfully, they are a very forgiving and adaptable creature. Let's hope Legendario makes the transition smoothly!

Call of the Wild

2012-01-08T06:20:00.000-08:00

I am a little fish
with great big Dreams
Sometimes my dreams are so big
I feel my head may EXPLODE

My dreams lift me high
like a hot air Balloon
Where I float and soar
in my Fantasy World

Until someone comes along with a pin
and POP!
my dreams are deflated...
and I wonder, shall I'll dream no more?

***************

Allow me to introduce you to Legendario

Dario was eight years old when gathered last August from Riddle Mountain in Oregon. He is one of the famous Kiger Mustangs...though not in the preferred (and usual) color. Dario is, obviously, gray! This made him less sought after than the other Kigers, and during the adoption in October, he (along with most other aged stallions) was passed by.

All Kigers who were not adopted in person while we were there last fall were placed on the online internet adoption a month later. All horses, including Legendario, received bids. Except that something happened...and we soon heard that the bidder on horse number 1230 was not taking him. My guess is, they bid on a couple of horses, and they won the bid on more than one, so took their favorite and backed out of the other...being this gray stallion.

Now, I just happen to know someone who'd looking for a nice, stout horse. A mustang, of course. And he's been wanting me to locate such a horse and gentle it for him. I'd found a couple of nice two year olds and we'd planned on picking one up at the first of the year (when they are officially three and eligible for the trainer incentive program), but they ended up being shipped east to another facility, so that was a no-go.

But when no one took the gray, I asked the BLM if they'd consider placing him as a TIP horse. Normally, a gray horse isn't eligible (people tend to leave bays, blacks, sorrels and browns behind, while fancy colors get selected for adoption), but due to his age, they opted to allow it.

And so the gray stallion was gelded the beginning of the year, and today...this afternoon...I will head south to pick up this living legend, this Kiger of a different color. His would be adopter hadn't come up with a name for him, so I did it for him. It's fitting, I think.

Legendario

photo by Matt Clark

Rep...First Ride.

2012-01-04T17:26:00.000-08:00

Darling drove down to the Cowboy's today so that she could help out with Rep. I had her saddled already and had lunged her for the first time in a big arena. There's a slight difference between a round pen, where walls hold a circle together, and an arena where a horse can drift. Rep walked a nice circle, but when asked to trot, she opted out of the program once she ran out of wall. It took some convincing, but with a little work she decided that she could, indeed, continue a circle even if a wall were not alongside her to help carry her around.

What I love about this girl is how she never gets upset. If she doesn't understand, she tries something that she 'gets', until you can explain what you're after. At that point, she does what you've shown her to do.

I'd turned Rep around from the ground before, but Darling hadn't, so when she arrived I put her to work while I snapped a few photos. Rep had no problem following the rein as Darling pulled it over the saddle. Darling stood on Rep's left side, pulling the right rein so that Rep had to turn her nose away from Darling. You can see the rein over Rep's back. As Rep turned, Darling stepped back a bit and allowed Rep's butt to swing around. Easy as pie!

After this we went to the round pen to see if she'd ground drive. Not a problem. Nothing different than being turned around, thought Rep, as she followed the direction of the reins. Everything was so quiet and nice, that Darling donned her helmet and up into the saddle she went. I led her in a nice, quiet circle, first right, then left. Darling then dismounted, gave Rep a treat, and we were done. A very nice morning, don't you think?

2012-01-03T21:15:00.000-08:00

Rep moved to a new barn the other day where we'll start her under saddle. Once she's titled in a couple months, she moves to the Spokane region with her (soon to be) new owners.

Today she stood tied to the wall during lesson time, fully saddled, six horse trotting and loping past, giving them little to no heed. THEN the engine of the HydraBull revved up...and...and...and...

...nothing. She stood like a pro.

Untied her, led her over to where she could watch, leaned my hip into her ribs like it was a leg, had my arm drapped over the saddle and hand down on her opposite side, patting and moving like it may be another leg. She just stood and watched the goings on. I think I could have been sitting on top of her without her skipping a beat.

Bad Reputation. So much for living up to her name!

Darling...in love!

2011-12-31T17:36:00.000-08:00

All misty eyed and weak at the knees...but it's not what you think.

It's Doxee. Darling is in love with Doxee.

That adorable little mare that belongs to the Cowboy. Obviously no cure. She likes the way Doxee kicks, the way Doxee crowhops, the way Doxee changes leads unexpectedly just because she can.

Darling will lie and tell you she does not love these things...but I beg do differ.
I know that look.
My child is in love.

Twas the Night Before the Night Before...

2011-12-24T07:38:00.000-08:00

alt="Photobucket">

Warning...objects in photo are not as they appear.

Twas the night before the night before Christmas, and all through the house, people were scrambling like mad men, especially the spouse...the spouse of the City Boy, that is. Me. Trying, last minute, to get a few more Christmas gifts ready.

Lotion! That's what I was making. Scrumptiously yummy, thick and creamy, almond vanilla. Sitting on the table were brushed aluminum bottles in which to pour it the moment the concoction became cool. And then the spouse (the other spouse) informed of the bad news. Those were not pumps in the box with the bottles. No...no...they were spritzer tops.

Huh? 3 lbs of lotion, and I had no pumps? Sigh...good thing my lotion sets up relatively thick! Into jars it went. Not as thick as a cream, but thick enough to work the alternative packaging plan.

Hope your night before night before went smoother than mine! Though to be honest, the lotion is pretty darned smooth!

First Touch!

2011-12-15T21:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, Impulse has been lipping bits and pieces of hay from my hands since the beginning...and in doing so her lips would occasionally brush up against my fingertips. However, that does not constitute as 'touching' in the wild horse world. Not in the least. But it sure doesn't hurt on the road to getting there!

Treats are one of my favorite methods of getting into a wild horse's space. I like using bribery. Some people may not agree, but they're still standing in the middle of a round pen with their horses trotting circles of ignorance, while I stand in the center feeding treats. And touching lips.

To be honest, I've been busier with Kitty and a few others down at the Cowboy's place, cleaning stalls in an enclosed warm(er than my) barn rather than standing about in the cold and wet with wild Kiger girl. But that doesn't seem to be an issue with her. She prefers my time being spent doing something other than forcing my way into her space...even if it is for treats. But my friend Ty, the grain guy who sponsors my lovely mustangs, has had a hankering for a new wild one for himself, and of course he wants me to do the gentling again (he adopted Mustang U's 'Liberty', the grulla sale authority mare, as well as one of Darling's yearlings, in the past.) And you know...it would really be a good thing (I thought to myself) if Impulse was gentled before I tackled a new one.

Yes, City Boy, I know I've got five horses out there. No worries, dear...we'll fix that!

So outside I traipsed, in the damp and the cold, to hand treats to Miss Kiger Mustang. Lead rope in hand, I stood next to her, handing off one treat after the next. She was happy. Very, very happy...and then rather than pulling my fingers back, I left them on her muzzle, and she was less than very, very happy. She was...confused. And she lifted her head away, but she didn't attempt to go anywhere because, lo and behold, another treat appeared. And soon we were treating and touching and treating and touching.

Then the hand made a daring move, and the fingers stroked and rubbed up the cheek, and the chewing of treats stopped as she watched me cautiously from the corner of her eye. I rubbed beneath the halter and up toward her ear, then down her face. She stood quietly, waiting to see what I'd do next. She was pleased when 'next' was taking another treat from my pocket, and she was once again munching on treats before I stepped away.

Now, all of this touching and treating and rubbing of faces is nice enough. But the reality is, the most important thing in these photos is my hair. See it? It's straight! All those fluffy curls, vanished! I mean, touching wild ponies is good enough, but look at my hair! I know, I know...you noticed it right away, didn't you? And you just could hardly contain yourself, and barely noticed a thing I said about touching and treating. You were in shock, yes? I knew it...

New Skills!

2011-11-25T15:26:00.000-08:00

A couple months ago I decided it was time to saddle up Bad Reputation and see what she'd do.

She did exactly what she always does.

Nothing.

Not much phases this little horse, though she's a bit of a bugger for the farrier. Oh, sure, she'll stand for me...and of course she'll stand for Darling...but some guy with a rasp? No so much. But we can't have everything, now, can we?

Since the sun was shining today, I figured it was a good time to see if Max would handle things as well. Normally, when something new is thrown at her, she's a bit jumpy to start, but once she realizes what's going on, she'll settle down. Today, I threw her a saddle...and she stood there. She didn't care. She was like a little red Rep with tall white socks and a blaze. Boo! Nothing.

Rep wanted to make sure I'd done everything right, so she came to inspect the job. Yup...cinched up just snug enough for nothing to slip off. Both Max and I passed inspection!

Once the saddle was pulled off and put away, I returned with treats for the girls, Aurelio and Impulse. Impulse is still a little slow to pick it up, but now I can get my fingers down beneath her lips, which encourages her to take them a bit faster. I swear I've never seen a horse put so much thought into taking a cookie!

All in all, a very good afternoon.

Final Ride

2011-11-24T07:47:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the day...the day our chapter in Steve Holt!'s life drew to an end, and his new life with his new owner was to begin. Before she arrived, we led him from his stall out into the barn, removed his blanket and began to groom him. That beautiful, long thick tail took some time, but when we were done, he looked like one of those show ring beauties who wears a tail extension!

Darling didn't really want to saddle him. It'd been a year and a half since she'd ridden bareback, but her goodbye ride was done just that way. An easy, slow walk around the arena on a horse who had magically transformed himself this week to a western pleasure pony.

Saying goodbye is never an easy thing to do, but we're so thrilled with Steve Holt!'s new owner. She showed up with a baggie full of sliced apples for him, and you know he was in heaven over that! She let us know we could come visit him any time we wanted...she didn't even need to be there...just come! She thanked us for putting so much time and effort into him, and made us feel so much better about him going to such a loving person. She'd ordered him a new blanket, she told us...one with a belly band to help keep him snug and warm. "I know, I know, I'm spoiling him!" she said. That's okay...Steve Holt! loves to be spoiled! He's going to be a happy camper, and that makes us happy.

And then he was gone...leaving us with nothing but photos and memories...

The Diva...

2011-11-23T06:50:00.001-08:00

Because you've not seen her recently...and I knew you wanted to!

Memories of a Goober Called Steve Holt!

2011-11-21T17:56:00.000-08:00

Late last week I had not one, but two emails from people interested in coming to see Steve Holt!. I set up the first appointment for noon on Saturday. That evening, the second woman called to set up a time to see him, and I had to tell her that a down payment had been left. Steve Holt! had found a home.

My first good look.
Can you pick him out of the line up?
He's the tall one!

As you can imagine, our emotions are springing and swaying to and fro, from joyful to sad, back to joy again. Naturally, we wouldn't let him go to just any home, it had to be a good fit.

No worries. The woman who came to see him was in love. Head over heels in love. She'd been looking online at mustangs and had no idea that the one handsome bay gelding that she'd so admired was the one she was coming to look at! How's that for fate?

Eating hay and grain from my hands (well, the pan in my hands)
the first week home.

She and Steve Holt! clicked right away. I warned her that his lope was big. From the ground it's not so noticeable, but once in the saddle, she exclaimed with a smile, "Oh, yes, it is a big lope!"

To the round pen we go...with an alder tree doubling as a bamboo pole.

She climbed off Steve Holt! and we led him into the barn alleyway, chatting and talking. She'd brought a bag of carrots...and he was in love. Head over heels in love! Who was this magical woman with delicious treats? This was good stuff!

The end of week one...or was it the first day of week two?
Doesn't matter. First saddling. In the snow.

She'd been looking since July. I asked about her last horse, a paint who opted out of the 'leave the barn to go for a ride' program, it seemed. He didn't like to go alone. She'd asked if Steve Holt! was willing to go alone. Oh, yes, indeed, I replied. I ride alone all the time. He jumps into the trailer and loves to explore trails. No problem there.

My, what a handsome boy he was!
My, what a white winter we had!

She had a dreamy smile on her face when she left. Steve Holt! had a dreamy look, too. She'd left the bag of carrots behind.

First ride...28 days into training.

Barn life seems to agree with Steve Holt!. She'd worried he'd be bored living at a boarding facility in a stall, but this week at the Cowboy's has been good. He just gets better and better each time we lead him from the stall. The Cowboy's wife said that perhaps he's just needed to have that added security of a snug shell of a home (box stall) and the companionship of humans leading him from point A to point B. I don't know, but whatever it is, it seems to be working for our big boy. He moves slower and slower each time we ride around the arena, content to be just a little lazy.

Darling at the reins...Steve Holt! becomes a jumper.

As the truck pulled away, Darling and I were smiling. "She's so nice!" said Darling. Indeed, she was. "And she brought carrots!" chimed in Steve Holt!. Okay...maybe not out loud, but he was thinking it! Darling's smile waned for a moment..."I'll miss him."

So will I, Darling...so will I. We've got a couple more days left with him, though. A few more rides before we say goodbye.

Artsy Video by Darling

2011-11-19T04:29:00.000-08:00

You may find yourself needing to let this one load for a couple of minutes before watching. Darling has pulled up some old footage, plus added some recent clips, to create this video. Hope you enjoy!

It's My Job!

2011-11-18T04:52:00.000-08:00

Not quite a week ago, we moved Steve Holt! down to the Cowboy's place so that we'd have a dry place to ride him on a regular basis. Since I drive down anyway to work Kitty, it only made sense to have him there as well so that I wasn't rushed to get home, load him up into a trailer and haul him somewhere dry.

With quite a bit of time off this past year, we started slow. He was lunged for 5-10 minutes, then Darling would climb on and I'd lunge him with her aboard for a few more minutes. That was followed by her riding at one end of the arena only, doing a lot of circles, keeping him rounded up, nose down where it belonged, but mostly his youthful self focused on what she wanted him to do...which was relax.

Steve Holt! thought we were crazy. He'd sigh big, heavy sighs, and obediently go about what we asked of him. Darling, too, it seems, thought I was crazy for taking so many precautions. But, I told her, I'm the mother and allowed to worry, fret, and make unreasonable requests in an effort to keep all involved safe. If Darling could roll her eyes, she would have...instead she groaned, and I think Steve Holt! rolled his for her.

After a few consecutive days in the saddle, Darling informed me that I didn't need to lunge her today, that all would be fine. I nodded, said yes, and told her she probably didn't even need to lunge him first. I'd ridden him the day before, wind blowing and rattling all sorts of arena bits, without him taking one misstep, so I was sure he'd do just fine.

I got busy helping the Cowboy, who was ripping out old carpet and getting ready for some new stuff this weekend. I peeked out after a few minutes and the two were doing quite well. Darling had the camera and wanted some video, so I obliged. Steve Holt! was working so well with two hands...slow (for him), consistent, head low, neck level...that I began wondering how he'd do with just one hand on the reins.

Darling switched to one hand when she was walking, which of course was not abnormal, and as he walked nice and relaxed, I suggested maybe she ask for a jog and see what happens? So she did...and though she had to pick up the second rein to let him know not to trot off in an english trot, she was able to drop back to one hand and make several laps around the arena with just the occasional check on speed.

There was a big ol' smile on my girl's face when they finished up. Both directions, and he'd maintained the slower pace, worked off her leg when she asked him to, and very little second hand action. No, he's not ready to take on a rail class, but it sure installs confidence when putting a horse up for sale to know that after a lengthy time off, and a full year of english/jumping before that, he's able to transition so well into a relaxed arena ride. And I don't know why that should surprise me, but hey, I'm the mom, and I'm supposed to worry and fret. It's my job!

Let There Be Light!

2011-11-16T06:05:00.000-08:00

Kitty in fluorescent light, and after the fact change.

Quite some time ago my son tried to convince me to 'shoot in raw mode' on my camera. But it confused me, so I didn't. I went back to safe with the usual jpg images. Why change what was easy?

But more recently I've begun to think that perhaps I ought to branch out a little...maybe learn something about this thing they call RAW. After all, all the real photographers use it. So I went in search on the information highway known as google to learn why I needed to give this a chance.

The biggest asset that I could see was that dealing with light would be much easier. I find it challenging to photograph anything in the Cowboy's arena...it's dark in there! So I decided to give this RAW thing a whirl yesterday. And so far? Well, I'm having fun. I don't know that I've really figured anything out (being of such a simple mind that I am...these technological things often elude me), but I did play a bit with changing the white balance after the fact, which cannot be done when shooting jpg.

Playing with the white balance and the exposure lightened this shot of Darling and Kitty up dramatically, and doesn't leave it all grainy like I've experienced with jpg. There are probably a lot of things I can do to make it better, but hey, one thing at a time!

I kind of had fun changing the white balance from 'auto' to 'daylight' to 'cloudy'...or 'tungsten' or 'fluorescent'. See? I told you I had a simple mind! Goofy little things like that really had me busy here at the computer last night. I think I'm way too easily amused... But maybe I'll actually start to get decent arena shots? Guess time will tell!

Save That Date

2011-11-12T13:39:00.001-08:00

Currently working on the 2012 Mustang Diaries Calendar!

Lots of images from the year, from the Diva of all things Wild, to the Kiger adoption we recently attended, to the South Steens HMA. Once it's complete, I'll get a paypal link set up and let y'all know!

Meanwhile...back on the ranch:

The yearling colt we hauled home for Miss Emily is beginning to come along. He's very reserved, not terribly brave...reminding me a bit of Sandy when he first arrived, but without the biting. Aurilio has decided that treats are a good thing, which allows Emily to get into his space. He'd been very shy about his right side, but she's been able to drop the lead while brushing him and braiding his mane.

The other day I handed her a small, lightweight english pad to rub him with. Up and down the neck, then down the shoulders, over the withers, and onto the back. By the time she was done, he was standing still for her to flip it casually on and off. I think he's going to make a really nice horse for her.

Impulse is also making strides in the domestication department. She's terribly curious about everything I do, especially after watching me ride Steve Holt! the other day. I sat outside with some hay and popped a lead back onto her, but only long enough to get her to move in a few circles and reach out and touch her face a bit. She wasn't too appreciative, but once she was on the loose again, she was back to her curious self.

She decided, in fact, to take a treat from me. Never mind the fact that I'd fed a dozen of them to nearby Max, and it took Impulse five minutes of sniffing the one in my fingers before she worked up the nerve to take it in her lips. She's done that a few times now...sure would be nice if she could reduce that transition time from sniffing to lipping to just a few minutes!

But one cannot complain, really. At least she's comfortable getting up close and personal. So much, that I couldn't get a photo of anything but her neck yesterday!

Bits and Pieces

2011-11-07T18:33:00.000-08:00

I am happy to say, not a bit of the snotties yesterday! And she was mildly interactive as well, so obviously feeling better, even if not 100%.

The other day I received an email from someone mildly interested in looking at Steve Holt!. I didn't hold my breath, but since he'd not been ridden in over a month, and at that, it was only 2 trail rides in September, I thought it best if I at the very least climb on him in the round pen for just a bit.

I'd had the new Myler bit on him, and just as in the last round pen ride, he dropped his head and held his nose perpendicular to the ground, just like a pleasure horse. And his trot...wow...while not super western slow, it was light and easy to sit. Amazing what a bit can do for a horse. Never, EVER, let someone tell you that you simply must be able to ride in a snaffle, or you're not worth your salt as a horseman. Hog wash! Each horse is different, just like any child in the classroom, and any teacher or trainer worth a paycheck knows this.

During my brief round pen ride, I watched in amusement as Impulse darted in and out of her stall. With paddocks attached directly to the round pen, she had an up close and personal view of Steve Holt! actually allowing a human to sit upon his back. Fascinating! Frightening! But really fascinating! She rushed in and out of her stall, not sure if she ought to be brave or hide. While standing inside...ooops!...a chicken flew up onto her back! She flinched, looked back to see what had happened, then ignored the chicken in order to pay attention to the goings on in the round pen.

Too funny! My wild horse is broke to ride...if only by a red hen.

The following day, Steve Holt!s ride went very well. It was as if he'd been ridden every day all summer long. His trot was sitting trot slow (not western pleasure jog, but comfortable enough) and his lope was easy and soft. He picked up both leads like he'd never given a thought in his life to not picking them up correctly. It went as smooth as could be...now we just wait and see. The young woman trying him out had just begun her search, and no clue if she's in a hurry or not. And while it would be nice to move him on, the Cowboy has said we can move him in down there for the winter and continue his training, and that is just about as nice as it gets.

The sun was shining all weekend, and I was wishing I didn't have a dead camera battery when I went out to clean Impulse's stall. Watching the proceedings the other day obviously increased her curiosity, because she began slowly working her way up to me, and cautiously reaching out in an effort to get a good whiff, no doubt wondering why the other horses seemed so intrigued by me. I had a pocket full of treats, of course, and stood at the round pen rail, feeding them to Max. Impulse eventually got close enough and brave enough to attempt taking my last treat, but it fell to the ground before she managed to get it all the way into her mouth. When I bent to pick it up, she moved off, so I put it inside a grain pan that was sitting nearby and walked away. When I was a safe distance, she walked over and lipped it up. She may not want grain, but for some reason, she's decided it's okay to eat treats. Well...whatever it takes!

Snotty Nose, Drooling Mouth

2011-11-05T18:41:00.000-07:00

A spot of disappointment when we learned that the brown gelding we'd wanted for Ty had been shipped east to the adoption facilities there. I sent him a few new faces to look at, however, including the bay buddy of the brown horse here, and Ty agreed that the bay was very nice. In fact, he looked like he may be a little taller than the brown, which for someone who is roughly 6'4", would come in handy. And look at that bay face...does he not look like a sweet Sandy boy? I'm terribly fond of him already, even if he wasn't the brave one of the two.

Meanwhile, out in the round pen, Impulse is dripping...

I'm not really sure what's going on here, but when I first walked out she had saliva dangling at least two feet out of her mouth. Never have I seen anything like this! I went back in for the camera, and of course it was all gone, and this was the best I could get. Have you ever had this sort of drooling going on?

I'd wondered if perhaps it was a tooth issue, and it well could be. But the part that is concerning is that she's got such a snotty nose along with it. The other day, it was green and runny. She refuses to try any grain so far (and for those of you who are wondering, alfalfa pellets are also out), so can't get any powdered antibiotics down her. I've sprinkled it onto her hay, but she avoids it. So plan B (or is it C?) is to contact the vet Monday morning and get something that can be put into her water, and only give her small buckets so that she simply must drink.

Being that she's rather sick, and pregnant, I'm trying not to push her along in the gentling department. But with the sun out the other day, I grabbed a long stick and rested it on her back. I don't think she felt well enough to really complain. Or maybe she's just easy? She trotted a lap or two, turned around, then came to a stop. I rubbed and rubbed the old hair out, and eventually got close enough to run my fingers along her hip before she walked off. Was good stuff, it was!

Hello, November!

2011-11-02T17:55:00.000-07:00

First off, a Happy Birthday wish to my father...The Mule Whisperer!

October was a crazy busy month for me, from Kitty's and my first cutting (green/green...me, Kitty and one cow), to our trip to Oregon with my folks.

A week after returning from Burns, I was asked to photograph the youth show, which was held at BB Stables. This is where Darling used to lesson with Steve Holt!; beautiful views, but a bitter, chilly northeast wind. I came home chilled to the bone.

Freezer camp awaited Sizzler, the pig. I drove in the driveway to find her loose in my yard, playing with 'toys' such as empty trash cans and the hose. I thought she was so cute! Ran and grabbed my camera so I could get a photo of her running with the hose. I let the dogs out of their very large run (formerly Momma Pony's turn out area) and hoped to lure Sizzler into it. No way was I going to be able to get her into her pen. Opened the gate, and she came running toward me...only it wasn't to investigate the open gate.

She BIT me! Grabbed my leg in her mouth, she did. The only thing I had to smack her with was my camera. I actually thought twice, but then...THUMP!...and was happy it connected on the back side rather than the lens.

She snorted, shook her head, and came at me again. All I could think was 'how quick can I climb the gate?', but then she saw the opening and squealed in delight as she ran off into the grass. Whew! Crisis averted.

The horse show seemed to have knocked the wind out of me, though, and the following days I was suffering from fever and chills, alternatively, and after that, coughing that racked my body to it's core. After a week, I decided to head to the doctor, as I had the Cascade Horse Fair in just a few days. I saw my favorite Nurse Practitioner (former eventer) and she gave me some drugs to help reduce the coughing over the weekend so that I could function.

No rest for the wicked, they say, which must mean I'm pretty darn wicked! Ken McNabb was here this year and it was wonderful! Our parking lot was full both days. Curt and his HydraBull were a mega hit as well...and look at that Cowboy dancing during Saturday's karaoke!

By Sunday night I was exhausted, but it wasn't time to stop. Not yet. Had to make trips to the bank to deposit money, and while I was there...well...I had to use the little girl's room. Not that you really need to know that, except there was a sign in there telling us to wash our hands, and giving the symptoms of H1N1 flu...aka...swine flu! And do you know what? It matched exactly what I've been experiencing! I think I've got the swine flu! And you know, that pig bit me, so it all makes sense!

No, not really...I don't think getting bit by the pig was the culprit (just in case you thought it was!) But I sure was sick there for awhile, and I'm happy that all the craziness of October is over, and that November is here. I think I'll like November much better. After all, it looks much cheerier, doesn't it?

Impulsive Moment...

2011-10-29T22:14:00.000-07:00

Call it an impulse buy...call it a reflex...call it an accidental bid. All are true! In fact, they are so true that the Kiger community have begun calling her Impulse.

City Boy seems to be somewhat smitten with her. She's no Lefty, of course (no one ever will be), but there is something to her, something that gives a hint to a sweet lady who'll take you down the trail without complaint. It will be fun to see how she progresses.

We had one more day in Burns; a day without Kigers or wild horse corrals. We were heading up to the mountain again in search of more wild ponies. This time, rather than heading down past the water hole, I pointed toward Burnt Car Rd (so named for the burnt car at the end of it), and City Boy turned the Dodge to the right and headed up the hill.

Burnt Car is where Darling and I first met the love of her equine life...Dibs. My, how long ago that seems! It's where we met and named Honor, Sox, and Darling Calls Dibs. Who else was there then? Cascade was there; so was Golden Boy. Bird, Gunner and Raven, all later gathered and adopted out. Last Cry was there...we hadn't known it would be the only time we'd see him. A friend photographed him last year and he was a walking skeleton...so sad. But mostly our memories of that hill are good ones.

But as we drove, I think the others had their doubts about this new direction. Up on the horizon, though...what was that shape I saw? I studied, quietly from the back seat, not saying anything until I knew for sure. Horse on the horizon!

She? He? I haven't a clue. It stood like a sentry overlooking the valleys on both sides. We climbed slowly over the knoll, and up ahead we spotted our friends Cortez, Noelle and Holly walking up from the shaded region below. Yet off to the left is where my attention was diverted. Horses I'd not met before, though at least one who's been spotted by a couple other photographers now and again. The elusive silver bay...

He is not one known to tolerate company. He has charged a photographer. He runs his herd off. And he is definitely not one to be spotted with the rest of our well known cast of characters. But on this day, he didn't charge, and while they didn't stick around long, it was long enough to get some lovely shots of him and his band.

Another sentry, posted at the opposite end. A black horse reminding me so much of Sox on my first visit...young, not quite enough seniority to join the band. He paced the ridge, looking down below, sensing and seeing danger approaching...

But the danger he saw was not us. It was Cortez, the lovable rascal who's always in scrapes and fights with every stallion he comes across. The elusive Silver Bay and the rest of his band moved silently out beyond the tall grasses and disappeared from sight. Cortez and his ladies, however, did not seem the least bit fazed by the goings on of the horses on the ridge. They simply marched on up the hill, pausing to look at us, then continuing on their journey.

I told you they paused to look! Holly stopped at stared at my father for the longest time before following her mother and stallion up the hill. It's so hard to believe that Holly is just 18 months old. Look how tall that girl is! I swear she's at least 15 hands already. And pregnant...she looks very pregnant.

Down below to our right we could see more horses, so we trekked the half mile or so across the desert and got some good shots of some dear friends, including a mare who's stolen my wild side heart...Delight! And look at that new baby of hers! Delight lost her foal last year. We don't know what happened to it, but after a couple of months, it disappeared. We sure hope that doesn't happen again. Delight is in Golden Boy's band still, and there are a few pinto babies...but Delight's by far is the cutest!

We walked back to the road (well...gravel excuse for one) and started back the way we came, very happy with finding such a nice couple of bands. That's when I spotted more ears. Majesty, One Eared Jack, and their band were quickly spotted, and we made one more stop to snap a few more photos. We'd seen these horses two days before, but one can never have too many wild horse close encounters, can one? Another vehicle had stopped to talk to us when we pulled over, saying that Cortez had been by and fought a bit with Jack. When I started looking at photos once we were home, I thought Jack's eye looked a bit odd. I blew it up to get a better look.

Well, this is definitely not right. There'd been no trouble with it two days ago, so this was likely from his close encounter with Cortez. The other stallions do not like Cortez, but Jack is the most willing to engage in battle with him, it appears. And this time he seems to have come up short. The injured eye is normally blue. Not sure when I'll be back down to see if that eye heals up or not. If it doesn't, he'll not only be one eared Jack, but One Eyed Jack, as well.

Poor Jack...

The Unintended

2011-10-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

I'd looked at the horses available so many times online prior to getting to Burns that I didn't give most of them a second glance. The three year old grulla mare made me smile...she was almost homely, poor thing, and small. A great kids horse, I'd imagined. Too bad I haven't got a kids camp. Ah, but then the crazy color people would bid her price up just because of that mouse gray hair of hers.

I wasn't so sure that City Boy's theory of Kigers have greater resale would hold true. A good, solid broke horse holds value, but I'm not sure a Kiger would get you anymore. Still, somehow, I ended up with a bidder number on Saturday morning. And once I had it in hand, I left the Kigers and went to see what else there was to see. I didn't really want a Kiger anyway. The last one, after all, had turned out to be a real firecracker.

Lots of pretty ponies out there. It seemed the only Kigers I was drawn to were the stallions. Before long it was noon, time to set ourselves down on the bleachers, catalog in hand, and listen to the auctioneer call out numbers and prices. My friend Emily, a college student who'd for years had wanted a mustang, was there with us, along with her mother. They were looking at a bay colt as a dressage prospect. I'd told them not a problem, bay Kigers aren't popular with the money crowd. Unfortunately, someone else was interested in that same bay Kiger, and a bidding war ensued! Finally, Emily's mom gave up, and the other interested party had themselves a nice two year old colt for $3500.

For the most part, the prices were affordable...though we had no intention of spending more than a few hundred, and of course the grullo colts that City Boy had been interested in went for a bit more than that. One dark dun colt with loads of stripes went for nearly $9000!

I was surprised that the four year old colts weren't being adopted. Some were really cute and for the base adoption fee of $125, you'd have yourself a very nice gelding. But they were a bit too small for City Boy, who would prefer a 15 hand horse.

As the numbers moved on, and horses were being bid on, my mom would show me the catalog and I'd mark down the prices on a separate sheet. We were about 70% through with the first go round when I twisted around to see a pretty faced mare in the catalog listed at 15 hands. My number shot up before I could think to remember just which horse this was, and before I could pull it down, they'd hollered out $125!, and then asked for more bids. So, I got the bidding started, and fully intended to not bid again, as I was having second thoughts. But...but...but...

Why wasn't anyone else bidding?

"Adopted!" they shouted. What? Why hadn't anyone else bid?

City Boy rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go see what you got." We walked out through the pens to the 2-3 year old mares. Immediate disappointment. What had I done? Oh, sure, she had a pretty enough face, and her eyes seemed kind. But look at those hips! What a weak hind end this mare had, and long back, and did I mention hips? Holstein Hips! Just like Sandy.

Just like Sandy...that thought ran through my mind, and I recalled the first time I'd seen that ratty looking bay mustang. Ugliest one of the lot, I'd told my friend Lea. Hmm....maybe this mare wouldn't be so bad. After all, you could do a lot worse than Sandy!

Meanwhile, Back at the Corrals

2011-10-26T05:21:00.001-07:00

"Should we drive the little truck? Or the big truck?"

This was the question presented to me by City Boy a few weeks ago. The answer was so obviously clear, I was surprised he had to ask. "The big truck, as it has more room, and of course if we drive that we'll want the horse trailer, too."

City Boy gave me the look...the one that says, "I know you're up to something", but of course I was not.

"You're not getting another horse...you're just hauling for others."

Right.

Adorable pinto filly, 2 years old

It was, of course, the Kiger adoption, and people would be coming from all across the US to see this event and, hopefully, find the perfect Kiger for their needs. There were even people from Sweden and Germany in attendance!

Kiger Stallions

And since I'm not a big Kiger nut, I didn't have any trouble at all telling City Boy I didn't plan on adopting one. Of course...not a word was mentioned about the possibility of finding a perfect little Coyote Lakes mustang. Nope. Not a word.

Very thin grulla 2 year old and her filly

There was loads of color to be found. From the striking duns and grullas of Barren Valley (a combination of 4 different HMAs, including Coyote Lakes) to the spotted pintos and appaloosas, there is definitely a horse for everyone waiting to be adopted.

The super cute grulla pinto filly found a home!

While we were wandering around, peering out into the corrals, I spotted a face that looked all too familiar. Could it be a relative?

Red dun mare, 11, Sheepshead HMA

A little research showed that this pretty red head was not related to my pretty red head at home. But she sure did remind me of Tika!

2 year old gelding

I kept my eyes peeled for prospective TIP horses, but seemed to only have an eye for 2 year olds. Even those I thought may be older, turned out to be just 2! And since they can't enter the program until they're 3, I was left pretty high and dry.

2 nice geldings

These two characters really wanted to know what I was up to with my camera. We were able to pet both of them. I'd really hoped they were three, but alas...both were also two year olds. I do have an adopter for one, though, so come 2012, I'll be making another trip to pick at least one of them up!

Not a Kiger...but certainly a diva!

The Kiger adoption was to happen on Saturday morning, and City Boy had begun to eye a 2 year old gelding in the pens. A grullo, he'd go for more than we'd ever spend on a mustang, but City Boy was beginning to think that in the long run, the return value may be better on one of these horses than your regular, run of the mill mustang. Not that we were adopting, mind you...

Wild Adventures

2011-10-25T05:28:00.000-07:00

Bad blogger! Bad!

Shame on me for leaving you hanging. Busy as I am with the horse fair, I've still found time to have fun...and I ought to be sharing that with you!

Earlier this month City Boy and I met up with my parents down in Oregon. My dad had wondered earlier this year about possibly meeting up with us and seeing the wild horses I'm always mooning over. Yeah! An opportunity to share my passion! It also just happened to be the Kiger adoption festival that weekend, so we were able to take in plenty of sights and activities.

Naturally, my enthusiasm was bubbling over as I sent City Boy (behind the wheel) up into the mountains our first day. He'd thought we were getting too late of a start, but I wasn't about to be stopped from seeing my ponies, so up the highway we drove, then off to the left onto the gravel road into the South Steens Herd Management Area. Up past the water hole, we climbed the hill and pulled over into a little turnout. Over the ridge was our destination...but we needed to walk to get there.

Hattie, a yearling on the right, with Chardonnay and her colt, Merlot, hiding in the juniper trees.

"Pssst", City Boy caught our attention and pointed. Sure enough, there were ears listening to our approach. On a small ridge stood Cortez with Noelle and Holly, and down below were Majesty, Jack and their band.

The stallion, Cortez, romances Noelle. Holly is Noelle's yearling filly from last year, and appears to be bred.

Mercedes, the black mare, and her colt from last year, Bensen

One Eared Jack...or just Jack. He's got two years, but one has either been ripped off in a fight or damaged by frostbite.

Of course, to most folks, coming across a couple bands of wild horses, getting within 100' (or closer) is pretty exciting. But to me? Well...let's just say I felt I'd need to give my folks a better glimpse than just this during their wild horse excursion with me...

Tomorrow? Off to the corrals!

Cascade Horse Fair

2011-09-27T05:12:00.000-07:00

Do you recognize him? How about the horse?

This would be Ken McNabb and his horse, Stormy. Ken is a friend of Curt...and Stormy was purchased from Curt. Ken will be here at the Cascade Horse Fair in October. So will Curt. I'm not so sure about Stormy.

It's count down time, to be sure. October 29-30 at the Northwest WA Fairgrounds in Lynden, WA is where the event is being hosted, same as last year. Vendors, demonstrations, clinicians. And, of course...the famous HydraBull cutting competition!

This is the second year we'll be doing our Rail to Trail event, where horses compete in Ranch Horse Pleasure, Trail and Reining. Top ten advance to the free style where anything (well...nearly) goes!

It's gonna be a lot of fun. But I need your help in spreading the word! We'll be having drawings for free bags of grain all weekend along with many other goodies and treats for both spectators and competitors. Help me out! Share this post either in your blog or on facebook, and I'll put you in the drawing for an 8x10 photo of 'The Old Man'! Drawing to be held on Thursday...so post and let me know so I can get your name in the drawing!

Goober's New Bit

2011-09-24T05:47:00.000-07:00

^^ This is a Goober. ^^

It's been over a month since my less than graceful, acrobatic dismount to club dirt. Last week I began riding Kitty, just a couple of days, nice easy rides. This week, we picked up the slack a bit and worked the bull a few times. The back was certainly tired, but the real pain is in lifting and turning. You know...the motion you go through when cleaning a stall? So when a friend offers to help, I certainly do not turn them down, and send them straight to work, lifting and turning, while I do the more tedious job of saddling and riding...

It is too more tedious!

Anyway, prior to the fair I'd purchased a new Myler bit for Steve Holt!. I don't like the way he's been pulling through the snaffle and really ought to have changed it out some time back. Finally, yesterday, with the back feeling more capable of climbing on and riding, I got that new bit onto a headstall and climbed on the goober boy.

It was against my better judgment to ride while I was alone. But since when has better judgment come to visit when it ought to? Lucky for me, nothing bad happened, but I bet you started to wonder if I visited Club Dirt again, eh?

At first, Steve Holt! thought the bit felt funny. Actually, he wasn't too impressed for the entire ten minutes I was on him. But hey, I was! He didn't like the added pressure on his tongue, and that head that's always struggled to stay down where it needs to be? Dropped down. And it stayed down, loose rein. Well, sorta loose. Goober pony loose. No fighting or arguing, just put it down while jogging around the pen in an as close as he's ever gotten pleasure horse frame.

Impressive!

And that's the story of Goober Boy's (aka Steve Holt!'s) new bit.

Sorry. All I got. Nothin' more!

First Day of School

2011-09-20T07:16:00.000-07:00

Darling is off to school today. My baby drives a car, and is a senior. How did this happen? Seems like only yesterday she still wanted to play dress up and wild ponies with me...

the Diva of all things Wild

2011-09-07T09:29:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what got into her, but Tika was romping with wild abandon, and the camera simply cannot deny her!

Hoping the doc can get me some additional pain pills for the ribs today. I'd been doing just fine until a big, enthusiastic hug came my way last week. I felt something pop...and it's been slow going ever since. But if I can get a little relief, I'm going to start on the Diva's mane. The fairies have simply gone too far with their knotting!

The Senior

2011-09-04T07:33:00.000-07:00

The ribs kept me from taking too many, and the light was strong in the middle of the day. But the few we got turned out well, I think. Will do some more later today...and maybe even get her with a horse!

The Diva

2011-09-03T04:43:00.000-07:00

Painting by Linda Martin

Among those attending the fair earlier this month was Tika. Never has my diva been subjected to such stress, and she made it known early on that this was simply too much for her, despite having a 24x24' paddock located alongside the others outdoors.

So by the end of her second day (and the first day of the fair), I was thinking we'd be making a midnight run home with her. I led her to the horse barn that evening and put her inside a stall, fully expecting her ears to be pinned in anger and for her to begin an attempt to tear down the walls.

Tika, however, is full of surprises, and she spent the following two days completely content, all snuggled up in a cozy little cave, happy with the fact that there was not a horse on either side of her.

The peace, however, did not last long. Within a couple of days, Tika was beginning to get anxious, and the banging on the wall began.

Fairgoers. Some are more intelligent than others. Children can read signs that say "I bite", where as adults take it as a challenge. One woman in particular stood and ran her hands up and down Tika's stall front. When asked to please stand back, she replied that she was an animal behaviorist and that she studied animal behavior. All I can say is she must have failed her class if she could not tell my lovely girl was stressed, cranky, and wanted her dead.

Despite her stress, Tika remained the easiest horse for me to handle with my broken ribs. I took her for walks in the morning before the general public showed up, and she'd follow me willingly through the isles, out along the back of the barn without worrying much about the tractors and other farm equipment, past 4-Hers and their wheelbarrows as they mucked stalls. Her ears were up and she took in all the sights and sounds, reaching out to touch me now and then for reassurance that all was good. Never did she push or pull, and always was she polite.

Wadatika was more than happy to return home. A full week was simply too much for this girl to handle. When I walk out among the horses, Tika follows closely behind me. Stressful situations do tend to increase bonding, but it simply wasn't worth it for this red headed diva.

the Spirameter

2011-08-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

"Where have you been!?"

Okay, so...I hauled Kitty to a cutting where we rode in our first practice round on REAL LIVE COWS! Do you know the difference between riding at a cutting and just being there to watch? You take pictures of ant hills along the way, because during the cutting you're too worried about getting yelled at for not paying attention to what's happening. That's what the difference is!

One quick snap, that's all I got of my girl and the Cowboy while he was riding turnback.

Then it was time for the county fair, and I was hauling horses up to Lynden immediately upon getting home from the cutting on Saturday night.

We brought mustangs again for the public to go googlie eyed over.

Or perhaps it was the mustangs who went googlie eyed over the public?

Halfway through the week I had a brilliant plan.

"Mom, tell the truth. Your plan was less than brilliant."
"Hush your mouth, curler head girl. I'm telling this story!"

So anyway, I had this brilliant idea. I climbed on a fresh feeling mustang and went to ride in the great big empty arena and six am. It was a brilliant plan because that way when I landed at club dirt, no other horses were there to step on me. See? Brilliant! Shut up, Darling, no one asked you if I should have lunged the fresh feeling mustang before getting on him. No one at all.

Now...back to the story. Yes, I was sore, but I've been sore before and really, what can they do for a broken rib? So I went to the first aid people like a good girl once they opened (three hours later) and they gave me some ice and some advil and patted me on the head and told me it was good that I was wearing a helmet. Yes, my head was happy, but it sure didn't stop the smarting in the ribs. But it's fair week, and there's no whining, sniveling, complaining or crying during fair week...and I had four days left to go! So go I did. Just slowly.

Upon returning home, I decided to take the advice of everyone I know and walked into the walk in clinic.

Have you ever been to a walk in clinic? It's like the McDonalds of health care. "Would you like a CT Scan with that? Physical Therapy? How many Xrays can we take before you pass out?" I got the xrays, but declined on the rest, much to the angst of the doctor who reminded me of an anime cartoon. He did, however, talk me into a Spirameter.

A spirameter measures the air your lung takes in, and since one of my xrays showed that a lung of mine is refusing to move beneath those four broken ribs (oh, did I mention that?), they wanted to be sure I was exercising and forcing myself to take in more air.

On the spirameter are numbers which measure the units of air you're breathing in. First, you blow into that tube, then you breath as much air back into your lung as you can. For a person my age and height, I ought to be sucking in enough to make that blue disc at the bottom move up to the 2600 mark.

I made it go to 1500.

Okay, so I need to get cracking at this breathing thing if I'm ever going to have enough air in my lung to get back on and do some more cutting with Kitty. No question about it! Over the course of the weekend I've gotten myself breathing in to the 2000 mark, so I'm on my way.

As for the ribs, they're doing fine. I feel relatively little pain for the most part until I stand for too long or try to pick stuff up or move around more than I should. But other than that, I'm fine! Really! Or maybe it's the drugs...

Has Someone Got a Life I can Borrow?

2011-08-06T16:17:00.000-07:00

A typical morning. I get up in the morning before the birds, roosters included, and head off to work. I know it's before the roosters because I've already led a half dozen horses out to their paddocks before the one at the neighboring farm begins to crow. Yesterday the coyotes were still howling, which woke the rooster up.

The horses are somewhat confused by my showing up so early. They don't need to get out of bed so early on the weekends when I'm not there. I wonder if they're like Darling and prefer to sleep in?

I cannot sleep, however, so up I get and to work I go. And for the past few mornings I've kicked myself for not having my camera. But the other day? I remembered it. Which means you can come to work with me and see what I see, only you get to sleep in!

You know, now that I think about it, I don't need to borrow anyone's life. This one yields some pretty blissful mornings. Hope yours are as sweet!

Waaa...HOOOO!!!!

2011-07-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

City Boy and I went to see Buck, the movie, tonight. I was worried... I'd been told by a few people that they'd seen my name in the credits, but hadn't spotted the photo I'd said would be in it. How had that happened?

So with a wee bit of apprehension I sat in the dark theater, prepared to enjoy the movie even if I didn't spot my photo. I munched on popped corn and forgot to share it with City Boy. I drank my soda. And I was drawn in instantly. What a spectacular film!

And then out of nowhere I was blindsided! What was I seeing? A black and white shot, a loading ramp with horses coming down, and who was that? That wasn't Henry, the roan. That was...that was...QUIET STORM!

Now, mind you, this is the photo they'd wanted, but I couldn't find the full resolution original, so I sent them one of Henry, thinking it was similar enough. But in watching the film I realized just why they wanted Quiet Storm...they were talking about yearlings unloading, and this photo fit with the story line.

How lucky am I? Truly...nothing more than dumb luck to have someone go digging back through three or four years of blog posts to come across a yearling unloading. Well...I'll take it, thank you very much! Dumb luck is better than no luck at all, eh?

Now, y'all check and see where the movie is playing and go see it. You will not be disappointed.

Another Day, Another Rain Drop

2011-07-21T05:05:00.000-07:00

Will it ever stop? If it weren't for global warming, we'd be in an ice age!

Steve Holt! stayed at pony day care while we were away earlier this month. In other words, my place of work, so that someone could keep an eye on his royal pain in the patootie. Upon return, Darling thought to take advantage of the arena and saddle him up for a ride. One small problem...

...Darling didn't bring her helmet. So Steve Holt!, all dressed up with nobody to ride, got turned out for a few minutes of saddled play time. Can someone tell me why I've not sold this handsome gent yet???

As long as I had the camera, I snapped a couple of shots of Berta, a lovely little mare also looking for a home.

Berta is a rescue horse. She'd been used as a brood mare, barely even halter broke, before being sold to a family who knew nothing of horses. They left her tied to the branch of a tree, which eventually broke and she then drug it around. My employer tried a few times to get them to give the mare to her, and finally succeeded about a year and a half ago. Berta was thin, but has now gained weight along with some confidence.

Seriously...who could hurt a pretty girl like this? A little hard to catch, but once you've got her she tries so hard to do the right thing. Berta is registered with the Pinto Horse Association, and according to her registration papers, she's 25% Kiger Mustang (no wonder I like this girl!) She's also free to the right home...a place who will take the time to love and understand her.

...Sigh...I still hear raindrops pitter pattering outside my window...

Ah-HEMMM!!!

2011-07-14T11:41:00.001-07:00

City Boy was holding his hand out at arm's length, his iphone screen showing me an image of a mustang family that looked remarkably like the last image I posted here on the Mustang Diaries. He was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Where have you been? How am I to know what you're up to if you're not posting?"

Yes, well, um...

I don't know what to tell you, except I've just gotten busy.

And then there's Facebook. I do tend to stop in there for a chat now and again, but even that has dwindled a bit as I spend more time outdoors with my ponies and friends. You know, flesh and blood, they yelp if you poke them with a sharp stick friends? Y'all are my friends, too, but no matter how hard I poke, the only thing that yelps is City Boy because he's not happy with my poking this screen here on my desk.

So...where were we?

Kitty is going well for me these days. I've worked buffalo the past couple of weeks! I have a confession...I peed my pants. (Is that what you wanted to read, City Boy?)

We took a little family trip over the weekend of the fourth. It's been years since the four of us went anywhere together. Our first stop was Lewiston, ID, along the snake river. We then traveled down into Oregon along the Nez Perce Trail. Beautiful, breathtaking, idyllic... And no wonder they were able to play keep away from the US Cavalry for so long!

Bronze sculptures line the street in Joseph, Oregon.

Our last night was spent in Astoria, Oregon, at the mouth of the Columbia River. We spent the night watching fireworks, made a quick stop in Seaside, then headed back home.

Darling jumps Steve Holt! on the beach

Oh, quit your whining! You didn't think I could hear you, did you? Well, here's a little wild pony update for ya!

Both of the girls have been for trailer rides, and nothing much phases them. Rep made it to the riding club where Darling attempted to make her into a trick pony. "Jump through the hoop, Rep!"

As for Mr. Holt!, I have someone coming to look at him tonight. Put on your positive energy caps, internet buddies! I need to find this boy a home.

Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T15:59:00.000-07:00

Wishing my dad...and all the others...a very Happy Father's Day!

Thanks for taking care of your herd of women all these years!

Wild At Home

2011-06-17T05:46:00.000-07:00

It was toe trimming time. Both Rep and Max came with ferociously long toes, and they were getting worse by the minute. With both of them (finally) picking up all four feet easily enough, I put a call in to Dave (Sandy's owner) to come see what he could do to help the little girls out.

Rep is typically so friendly, sweet and mellow...but she opted not to show that side. Nope. She wanted nothing to do with a pedicure, thank you very much. HEY! Did you hear me? That tickles. Stop. I'm going over here now, good bye. Can we say Bad Reputation???

Mind you, she was still very much easier than Steve Holt! on his first toe trim (and second and third and fourth and...) It was mainly her left front that she felt didn't need to be touched. But she finally worked the wiggles out and stood like a good girl.

Max, on the other hand... Well, Mighty Max is our sparkler girl. She's bright and shiny and has a bit of get up and go to her. However, she's also the one who, once she knows what you're expecting, does just what needs to be done. And so it was that Max was the shining star of the hour, even using the hoof jack on a couple of occasions.

So now both girls have pretty pedicures, and I'm sure it feels rather funny not having toes drag on the ground when you walk. In typical Max and Rep form, Max took off to try her new feet, while Rep stood placidly at the fence wondering when someone was going to come pet her.

We Want Buck!

2011-06-14T13:20:00.001-07:00

But the Real Question Is...

2011-06-12T18:19:00.000-07:00

High on the mountain top, where the coyotes sing and the winds howl, this is where you'll find my wild horses. The grass is good, with spring rains ending (they hope) a drought which has lasted several years in this region. The horses are looking sleek and fit...some are borderline fat! This is a good thing, because it won't be long before the blazing sun dries up this land and grass again becomes sparse.

But on this particular morning, everything was...well...picture perfect. And as we stood among the bands, a little movement caught my eye. I took a step and peered closely, and smiled when I saw the little black years flickering. A few more steps and the black colt was visible. Be still my heart...I think I may just be in love!

Stud Muffin?

Heart Throb?

Cruiser (yearling colt), on the left, and Chenelle on the right.

My knees are weak, I swear!

Is that a cow horse look on Chenelle, or what?

Peeking from behind momma.

But the real question is...
Who's the Stud Muffin's Daddy?

Cascade

Sox

Both of these stallions are with a small group of mares. Cascade, the pinto, is the clear band leader. However, Sox is his number two in command and is never far away. So who sired my little heart throb?

Ooo, Baby, You're a Wild One!

2011-06-09T16:33:00.000-07:00

She is, without a doubt, a fruit loop. In fact, that's what we call her. Fruit Loop. She appeared out of nowhere and attached herself to the bachelor band over the winter. We didn't know she was a mare at the time, just another red horse spotted with the boys. But then it was spring, and guess what? The Fruit Loop had foaled, giving the boy band a Lucky Charm.

She sure has stirred things up. We wondered at first, did her stallion die? Is this why she attached herself to an easily accessible band? But I'm not so sure. Red Vogue, the brilliant red three year old, wants to lay claim. The other boys don't care and there are no challengers from among them. A hands down, easy win, right?

Wrong. Because Fruit Loop wants nothing to do with him. She runs and races here and there, goofy as all get out, her little Lucky Charm following along, learning bad herd habits. And poor Red Vogue, so exhausted chasing after his wayward woman. She circled the entire herd, roughly 60 horses, and got them all in a tizzy. Red Vouge chased after her, ears pinned, head snaking out in an effort to subdue her. But she will not be subdued. She is a wild one. Or a fruit loop. You be the judge!

Wild Encounters of the Stud Muffin Kind

2011-06-08T06:13:00.000-07:00

Wild in Spring

2011-06-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

So, while y'all were busy with barbecues and parties over Memorial Day, Darling and I were busy working ourselves to nearly to death.

Yes, that's right. Blood, sweat and tears...and all that jazz. Driving miles, hiking hills, braving the weather (which included snow and hail, I might tell you!) in an effort to photograph wild ponies in the spring. And we did it all Just For You!

Tell me, was it worth our efforts? Does this make you smile? Maybe? Just a little?

Three Sure Signs of Spring

2011-05-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

The apple trees finally have blossoms.

The 'Spring Pig' has arrived

Your horse is dressing like a dork...

Are there signs of spring at your house yet?

Words?

2011-05-17T06:02:00.000-07:00

There are no words that do justice to the Diva!

She defies description!

Equine Herpes claims 2 Horses

2011-05-14T21:23:00.000-07:00

My tennies were on my feet. My boots were put away. I'd finished riding Kitty and was helping the Cowboy with a few little things that he couldn't do alone before heading home.

He'd replaced a barn wall, but needed help lifting it up into place and making sure it was 'plumb'. While I was holding and he was nailing, the Doc wandered in to take a look at the progress. "You riding?" he asked me. "Already done," I replied, still holding the framework. The cowboy told me I ought to saddle one and ride with the Doc. I sighed an inward sigh...I really ought to head home, but at the same time, I sure didn't mind being told to saddle one up and ride!

Before I could say, 'maybe not today', the Cowboy continued with, "You can ride turnback while Doc works the buffalo."

YEEEEE HAAAAAW!

I have never worked a buffalo before, and only twice had Sandy and I had an opportunity to even trail a cow, so this was terribly exciting stuff! I quickly saddled up Doxee and got her warmed up.

Enter the buffalo. Just one. A young heifer trotted into the arena and looked around, wondering where her friends were, seeing only the two of us on our horses. Doc was at one end of the arena, I at the other. We were about 30' away from the buffalo, who was done looking and now trotting toward the wall, thinking she'd slip around behind the Doc and head back to the gate. No such luck, as Rose blocked her exit. While Rose kept the buffie from making it to the gate, Doxee and I followed back and forth at our end, making sure she didn't suddenly turn and run the opposite direction. I also had the task of moving toward her hip in an effort to get some added forward motion should she stop too long and not move, but if I did that I needed to be quick to get back to my 'spot' so that she couldn't run past me.

I had an absolute blast! I want me some buffalo... Perhaps next time I can sweet talk the Cowboy into letting me work the buffies with Kitty?

In other somewhat distressing news, there is an outbreak of equine herpes on the west coast. The Cowboy has quarantined his barn for the next few weeks in an effort to keep everyone healthy. The outbreak involved some horses who'd been at the National Cutting Horse Associations Western Nationals last week. Two horses have died (one in CA, one in CO), and many competitors had already left without knowing their horses may have been infected with the virus. There is no vaccination for this strain, unfortunately. If you're on the west coast, I'd highly recommend not traveling and consulting your veterinarian as to the potential dangers. Even though we're in WA, quite a distance away, we know several people who were there with horses, and it makes no sense to risk leaving the barn right now when it is so highly contagious.

Bad to the Bone!

2011-05-10T22:04:00.000-07:00

Spring fever has struck! The girls were turned out this afternoon for a bit of play time. Look at them go!

Max and Tika take a brisk canter along the fence.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Max lets 'er rip!

"Hey, are you taking pictures? Be sure to take mine!"

Tika takes the lead!

Bad Reputation finally gets into the act. Someone forgot to tell her it's fight or flight...she's a lover, not a flighter or a fighter!

Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!

2011-05-05T21:35:00.000-07:00

With Steve Holt! still here, buying a new horse wasn't an option. But since the owner was over horsed, and the Cowboy was looking to wheel and deal, a deal indeed was made. She is, for all intents and purposes, mine. And when the mustang sells, registration papers come this way. In the meantime, Miss Kitty and I are becoming better acquainted.

First thing I've learned is that Kitty does not like to be ignored. The more she gets out of the stall, the more she wants out of her stall. And like the border collie, Patch, she's willing to dig to make it happen. She rattles doors until she's driven you half crazy. Leave the hose too close to the bottom of her stall door and her lips will reach out there and drag it into the stall where she can better play with it.

Saddled up, Kitty just keeps getting better and better. She's learned to completely relax at the jog so that we can go around nice and slow on a loose rein. The other day I worked the bull again. Her head dropped down low and she stuck right with it. I'll need to begin hauling her to the riding club and a couple other arenas in the coming weeks so she can get used to visiting new locations. I've got the calendar listing the cutting events in W. WA sitting here. This month, we're not ready. But June? Well, we'll see. Perhaps just wishful thinking. At least she can go and watch and see what it's all about. By the end of summer, though? I hope to be cutting!

Tucker Puppy Goes to Work

2011-05-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

"I can do no wrong!"

Tucks wasn't paying close enough attention the other day and stepped in front of a horse. You could hear that poor pup yelp a mile away! Landed squarely on his right paw while walking across the pavement. Poor Tucker! He limped and gimped his way back to my truck where he spent the rest of the day waiting for me. He's such a good puppy when he goes to work with me, but pony feet can be a dangerous thing!

2011-05-02T14:14:00.000-07:00

Kitty stood in the middle of the barn alley, cross tied and saddled, when the cowboy came wandering in. I took one look at him, and had to ask the question, "Where are your boots? Aren't you going to ride first?" After all, the white board in the barn that tracked which horses were turned out or ridden on which day, had very clearly lacked an X alongside Kitty for a good, long time. Oh, she'd been turned out, but ridden? Not.

"She'll be okay. You just climb on and ride with one hand. You'll be fine," came the answer from the preoccupied trainer. So I slipped the snaffle into her mouth and ran the reins through the martingale rings, and into the saddle I swung.

Her walk, at first, was fast, as though in a hurry to make the first lap, but then it evened out into a long, smooth stride. Before moving into a trot, I went to two hands, and again she picked up the pace, moving a bit faster than a horse who'd been ridden regularly, but far more relaxed than one who'd only been ridden once in the past six or more months. Her lope was pretty much the same; a bit fast and uneven, but nothing stupid. At one point, when asking her to pick up the lope to the right, she thought she'd kick up her heels a bit, but that was it.

I asked her to walk and she came back down, no fight or fidget like you'd expect from a high power horse after a long break. A twinkling of blue eyes from the Cowboy, and the HydraBull started up. Kitty went straight to work with hard stops and fast turns. I'm pretty sure I had a stupid grin on my face the whole time.

It was a strangely odd experience, to be truthful. On one hand, it felt like stepping onto an old friend. Her size is similar to Sandy, and she rode a bit like him. The buttons were all in the same place, making it easy enough to figure out how to ride her. But her training was more fine tuned...she was much quicker to respond when working the bull.

Over the past few years, I'd walked past Kitty's stall, giving her nose a rub, wishing her owner would let me turn her out to play. But she wouldn't, so Kitty would stay in her stall while I cleaned out the others. I shut down any feelings for the mare that may have sprung forth...you know how that is, don't you? Some little tickle that says you could develop a liking, but you don't allow yourself to go there because in the end, it just causes grief. I turned my attention instead to the horses that belonged to the cowboy, especially the gray mare. I wasn't on Kitty more than fifteen minutes, but in that time, I knew there had been a reason for those early tinglings. This was a definite fit.

I rode Kitty again the following day. She nickered this time when she saw me. The following day, I brought Darling down and let her ride and get a feel for the little red mare. Darling wore the same stupid grin I had the first time.

Mustang VS Domestic

2011-04-30T19:09:00.000-07:00

Years ago, 20 plus, I purchased a Golden Retriever. I'd stumbled upon an ad in one of the big dog publications for a breeder here in WA. It was listed in a town a couple of counties south. Lucky for me I had an uncle in that same town, and with that uncle, a telephone book. Mind you, this was before the internet was in every home across America, so telephone books were as close as you could to a Google search. We looked up the address, and off I went.

I drove down long and winding roads until I happened to find the residence of Dick and Ludell Beckwith. Sadly, no one was home. But I left a note on the door, and later that evening I received a phone call from Ludell to tell me that indeed, they did have a puppy available. It was one that had been reserved, but a divorce had taken place, and the soon to be ex-wife had called just that week to say they'd not be taking the pup.

I had no idea at the time that I was talking to whom some referred to as 'Grandma Golden', the matriarch of the golden retriever breed here in the northwest. I had gotten quite lucky, and as they say, timing is everything.

The pup I met on my return visit wasn't quite what I was looking for, however. I wanted a show dog, and this particular girl had a cowlick down the center of her face. She was pretty enough and conformationally correct, but the cowlick was a huge detraction. And all my dog books said "Buy the best you can afford." Well, she was certainly at the top of my price range, but there would be more pups, right? So I left.

Later that night I received another phone call from Ludell. "Tell you what," she said, "I have another pup. I was going to keep her. But you seem like you're serious about this, so would you be interested in a co-ownership?"

You may be wondering what on earth this has to do with mustangs and domestic horses. Well...it's in the lessons. That co-ownership with Ludell opened doors. I got lucky that day, as I later realized. Years after leaving the dog show world, I started making phone calls for my sister, who was searching for a new dog. Ludell had passed away, but the good breeders knew and respected her, and that co-ownership I had with her made otherwise closed doors open.

Fast forward. I want to cut. I want to show that mustangs are able to cut. But my little mustangs get little respect, and in all honesty, I don't know what I'm doing out there. So what to do? Buy the best you can afford, and team up with someone who's respectable. Okay...I've got the team, but as much as the cowboy is amused by my tinkering with wild ones, he insists that if I'm serious, I need a serious horse.

Enter Kitty, a five year old Quarter Horse that the Cowboy had started a few years ago. She's not been ridden much at all in the past couple of years...once every two to three of months, at best. Her owner had others that were a priority, and Kitty stood in a stall doing not much of anything. But on this one day, when I told the Cowboy that maybe I'd be interested in replacing Steve Holt! with something that could cut, his eyes lit up and he sent me out to 'saddle that mare'.

To Be Continued...

How Many Days Till May Flowers?

2011-04-25T20:11:00.000-07:00

I forgot to tell y'all that I have become employed as of last week...it's very hard work. I'm doing chores at a boarding facility and am responsible for 40 horses. Feed, turn out, clean...all the stuff I do anyway, but did I mention it was for 40 horses?!? And it doesn't matter if it's raining or not, they still expect me to show up to work. I know...can you believe it?

Tika in the Sunshine

The Mighty Maxine

Rep's not nearly as light on her feet
as Tika, but she's a love bug, so it doesn't matter!

It felt so good to have sunshine on our shoulders. Tika has taken to her role as 'step mom', letting the girls know she is in charge before allowing them to hang out and eat out of the same pile of hay or drink alongside her at the water tank.

Sadly, the sun only lasted a couple of days, and we're back to icy cold rain. And just in time for me to return to work. I bet I'm the only one who'd prefer to have rain on their day off than when they're at work. Or am I? All I know for sure is that after all of April's showers, May had better offer up some pretty terrific flowers!

Spring Installation

2011-04-18T21:38:00.000-07:00

INSTALLING SPRING...
███████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 44% DONE.
Install delayed....please wait.
Installation failed. Please try again. 404 error: Season not found. Season "Spring" cannot be located. The season you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable. Please try again.

Cuttin' Loose!

2011-04-17T13:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Darling and I climbed into the truck, along with Tucker, at 4 am. We picked up the Cowboy and the Doc, along with their horses, and hauled on down to the first cutting of the season for the Cuttin' Loose Club.

The Doc and The Cowboy

The Doc is 85 years old, and owns Darling's favorite cutting horse, Rosanna Montana. Rose and the Doc have been together for a few years now, and she knows her job. Stop That Cow!

Rose worked nearly perfectly for The Doc on Saturday, marking a 72 and giving him second place. Everyone cheers for The Doc...woo hoo's all around. Good ride, they tell him.

The Doc is congratulated by The Cowboy's Daughter.

The Cowboy had ridden Doxee as a turnback horse, one who stands in the corner and makes sure the cow in question stays where the competitor can work it well, inside the 'playing field' so to speak. Sometimes cows want to escape. Fancy that? The 'cutter' cuts a cow from the herd and then his horse works to stay between the cow and the herd. The rider keeps his hand down on the neck of his horse, giving it no help (ideally), as the horse works back and forth to keep the cow separated.

Doxee is the horse The Cowboy goes to when he wants one to work turn back, and she loves her job. A good turn back horse with a skilled rider can truly make or break a ride in some situations, and on this day, Doxee and The Cowboy did their job well, putting a smile on The Doc's face and a check in his pocket.

rrrrrrRUFF!

2011-04-15T19:59:00.000-07:00

The other day I decided Rufus needed a hair cut. He's half Shih Tsu and half Eskimo. He's got that fine Eskimo undercoat with the long Shih Tsu top coat. When it snows, he likes to roll and gets all sorts of matts going in it. Then that bottom layer begins to shed and it makes a real mess. So I pulled out my clippers and thought I'd play dog groomer.

Rufus isn't speaking to me anymore.

Darling and I were driving down the road when we spotted a woman with puppies under each arm walking across her lawn and placing them into a pen. There were already a few pups in the pen, and she was heading back to the barn and grabbing more when we decided to turn around and pull into her driveway.

Nothing like stopping at a strangers to ask if you can play with their puppies. And all I can say is, it couldn't be helped. Really, could you have helped yourself?

No, I don't think you could have! And neither could we. His name is Tucker. And Rufus now hates us even more.

Mustang Mauling

2011-04-12T21:51:00.000-07:00

A woman was found mauled down by a pair of wild mustangs late yesterday afternoon. Apparently, she had been making an attempt to photograph the animals when they attacked. Images of the attack were captured on her digital camera.

Wild horse advocates warn that the general public is simply not aware of the dangers of befriending a mustang, that they are dangerous and can never be fully trusted. This is especially true if you are still carrying treats in your pocket intended for domestic horses.

The Girls

2011-04-10T19:41:00.000-07:00

Indeed overdue! This was from last weekend, when the girls came up on the BLM trailer. They roamed the arena for a few minutes while Gary pulled his trailer out, and I backed mine in. And then, play time was over, and they climbed into the next trailer for the final leg in their journey.

These two girls have such different personalities! City Boy's little red filly is bright and energetic. She's got boundless energy in the round pen, and despite the fact that we end each session with scratches and rubs, we begin each day the same as we began the day before...flighty and rushed.

Turned out together, Rep stands quietly, while the red filly (City Boy...what is her name?) hides behind her. And yet, walk out with a scoop of grain and you'll be mauled. Rep allows you to rub all over her face in exchange for grain. Red filly, on the other hand, becomes frustrated, grabbing at the scoop while trying to keep you from touching her.

Both girls have had the lunge line on them and are moving both directions pretty easily. I got the red filly leading yesterday, though a big shakily. She has a strong sense of what she wants to do. No fear. She's more like a toddler who wants her own way. Right now, she's the challenge of the two, but I'm sure that will swing the opposite direction many times over the next few months.

The Lone Cowgirl

2011-04-08T18:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, you simply must...I mean simply MUST...go check out my Facebook friend Shirley Morris' blog. MUST! She's got some really nifty neato stuff to talk about. Today's feature is caring for your vintage photographs. Totally cool!

So, in other news? The sun came out today. No, really. It did! And I went outside to play with my pony, Bad Reputation! Reppi (should I spell that with one or two p's? Repi? That doesn't even look or sound right...must do some thinking here on the name) isn't too keen on being my friend, I'm afraid. Oh, she's first in line when the chow comes, and I can rub all over her face while she's got her snout buried deep in the scoop. But no grain? No can pet. Well...that's her take on it, at least.

I did get the lead snapped on, no problem, while she was munching away. That led to some lunging, and turning and lunging the other way. She's weakest to her left, but circles to the right are pretty fluid. I did get to scratch on her, but she told me she didn't have to like it. That is, unless I scratched her cheek where the halter sits. That was okay...

She has got a rather pretty profile, doesn't she?

Day Three, or Two

2011-04-06T05:37:00.001-07:00

The rain is enough to drive a duck crazy. I know this, because there are a dozen crazy ducks in my backyard.

Hence, on day two, I didn't do a single thing with the new girls. They both looked like drowned rats out there, completely miserable and refusing to stand inside the barn on account of the funny noise it made with water pounding down upon it.

I wasn't any happier than they were with the weather. Only the ducks appeared to be enjoying themselves...in their crazy sort of way.

Day three didn't yield much productivity, either. That is to say, I didn't go out and try to work with them and get them halter broke in the manner I typically would one of the older horses. The new girls are naturally curious and friendly...or at least they were when we were at the corrals in February. So when I went out to fill water tubs (not that there was a huge need, given the extreme rain), I stood at the rail of their paddock for a moment and it wasn't long before two little noses were reaching out to sniff me.

After a few minutes, I went inside, not expecting quite the same response. After all, there were no rails to protect them once I was on the inside. But City Boy's little red filly finally got brave enough to reach out her nose for a quick 'breather', softly blowing some warm breath onto my hand. Bad Reputation stood alongside, and after mulling it over a moment, she, too, reached out for a quick sniff.

Good enough training for Day Three, out there in the rain! I'm really hoping there's a break in the weather soon, but if there isn't? We'll stick to sniffing each other.

"Bad Reputation" as a baby this past July.
Roan horses get darker in the winter, covering up
their white roan hairs with the color of their 'base coat',
in this case, bay.

Day One

2011-04-03T12:33:00.000-07:00

I've been keeping a secret.

Back in February, City Boy adopted a filly. A cute, flashy little sorrel with three very tall stockings and a white blaze. She's only a yearling, and he's a bit disappointed that he'll need to wait for her to grow up, but I assured him this was a good thing. After all, I need to put more effort into Tika, and if I had a two or three year old here, she'd get moved to the back burner again. And a yearling would give us time to truly get her ready for life as a saddle horse.

The BLM was offering free shipping within 400 miles to anyone who adopted from 'Appy-Palooza', so it was a no-brainer to make sure we signed the adoption papers then. Yes, it would be a long wait...delivery was at their convenience, and last year that meant 2 months...but it was worth not having to haul the trailer down there.

A person can get quite anxious in 2 months, you know that?

But the waiting is finally over, and the new arrival is here!

But wait...what's that behind her?

Seems I've been keeping two secrets.

I saw pictures of the roan filly back in July when a friend visited the corrals. I was able to pick her out of the group of other yearling fillies at the corrals in Feb, despite the fact that her tag number had been changed. I'd really liked her...would have been thrilled if City Boy and Darling had liked her as well, but they didn't, so I thought I'd not end up with her.

But she haunted me, and when you're haunted, there's not much you can do except embrace your haunting! After all, as I explained to City Boy, I needed another resale project. Steve Holt! is up for sale, and who next? Better get something to keep me busy. Well...busy once Miss Tika is going a little stronger.

The girls are settling in well. They were unloaded at a friend's place, into his arena. When the BLM truck pulled away, I backed my trailer up. The girls looked at it with curiosity, and with the help of a half dozen people who were on hand, we formed a human fence behind those wild butts, and they walked quietly up to the trailer and stepped right in.

I've named my filly already: Bad Reputation! Mustang lovers gasp...why??? Well, because they have one, that's why! And I intend to poke fun at myself for always sticking with these wild things, and in the process, if I'm lucky, she'll be a winner. Heck, it's day one, and I've already touched her!

City Boy's filly hasn't been named yet. She's a bit flightier than Rep, but I was still able to rub her with the long pole. And back at the corrals, she came up and sniffed our hands, so I know it won't be long before she comes around.

So off we are on another adventure. You coming along for the wild ride?

Tika, Today

2011-03-29T20:10:00.000-07:00

Beautiful, as always.

The Planning Begins

2011-03-28T08:28:00.000-07:00

Video from the Calcutta/Open Cutting
Cascade Horse Fair

Last year was the first time I attempted to plan anything so big and crazy as a horse fair. We had fun. I didn't go broke. Let's do it again!

Ken McNabb with a stallion he purchased from Curt.

Curt has agreed to come back with his little herd of HydraBulls, and in addition to him I've got Ken McNabb agreeing to do a clinic for us! Also Mary Cornelius, a professional photographer from Portland Oregon, will be teaching a class on equine photography. Cool, eh?

There will be a sale and adoption alley in the barn, and I'm excited to have a Kids Corral this year, too! Putting Darling and her cousins, Lanky Hanky and Miss Banana Head, to work organizing a stick horse drill team. That oughta be interesting, don't you think?

If you happen to be in the northwest and would like to help out as a volunteer, become a vendor, or participate with your horse, let me know!

Siesta!

2011-03-24T19:56:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I visited with a friend who has recently joined the Trainer Incentive Program (TIP.) Last month she picked up her first mustang, a real cutie from Palomino Butte.

Siesta is three years old, has the prettiest, dishiest little face, and is put together quite nicely. She was, in fact, on my 'hot list' when I was considering a new mustang for myself. Gathered in the fall of '09, she's been sitting at the corrals waiting for that special someone to come into her life. I was really wavering, thinking perhaps I'd take advantage of them hauling a few other horses up to WA, when Tricia announced she'd picked this beautiful red head. Yeah! Now I didn't need to, but she was close enough for me to still visit. Perfect!

I was thrilled when Tricia asked if I wanted to work with Siesta a bit and jumped at the opportunity. Tricia works with a Parelli style, using her carrot stick when with the filly. I don't...and wasn't sure if Siesta would respond well to me or not.

I needn't have worried. The little red head, though a bit confused by this transfer of the trainer, picked up on my body language right away. A bit sensitive, and very reactive the first few weeks, Siesta was full of personality and a very quick learner.

I'm actually very impressed with this girl. Here I am, total stranger, completely different body language and style, and she figured it out and went with it. Sensitive Diva's often have a hard time switching dance partners, but I suspect Siesta is going to do just fine.

Siesta is available for adoption!

Playtime with Tika

2011-03-22T15:15:00.000-07:00

Tika loves her playtime!

Since it rained yesterday, I didn't ride, but I did hop on the day before. The round pen size has been expanded to a bit over 40' in length. Tight for some, but not for Tika. In this video she's only using half the space as she circles around me. Once saddled up, she's all business, though.

With a month long vacation, she struggled with me asking for a turn to the right. It's always been her weak side. As I pulled her nose, she'd do a little panic, but thankfully in her mind a panic means stop. Though the sand doesn't slow her down when she plays, once I'm on her back she likes to keep things slow (yeah!), and it takes some encouragement to bump her into a trot. But we did manage to finally do both trotting and right turns at the same time, getting a few figure 8s done before I stepped off her back.

Sun is shining again this afternoon. Think I ought to go hop on? I think you're right...

Making a Splash

2011-03-19T21:05:00.000-07:00

The sun came out today for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Not only was it out, but it was almost feeling warm...you know, like spring!

Darling said she had a hankering for wanting to ride Steve Holt!, so after she was done in the round pen, I went outside and snapped a couple photos of her crossing the creek. They didn't end up being much good, at least not in terms of something that could be used for marketing the big goober boy. But this one made me giggle, what with the big splash he made!

After a few months off, Darling has come to the realization that she doesn't really want to give up horses...but she does want to switch back to western, and Steve Holt!, fun as he can be, is simply not a western type horse. And further more (she told me), she's going to have to start over from the beginning, because we do mustangs, and that means getting one from the corrals.

Sigh...teenagers. Simply can't keep up with them.

Steve Holt! and Darling aren't the only ones getting back into the swing of things. Today I saddled up Tika and climbed on board for the first time in a month. Because I had about two whole minutes before needing to leave, I decided it was best not to temp fate by climbing on in the round pen, but rather did it inside her paddock. Not so much room to bounce around in there. Of course, there wasn't so much as a flinch of a bounce.

Seriously...it was only 2 minutes. A couple turns left and right, a couple of stops. Just enough to let her know that it's time to return to work. Or maybe enough to let me know that she's not forgotten what we're doing? Either way, she was fine, and I look forward to many more sunny afternoons.

After pulling off the saddle, I decided I had just enough time to play with a little toy. At some point I'd like to be able to use clippers on her, and this little massage tool seems to be a nice transitioning tool. There's just enough vibration and noise to get a horse's attention, but no clipper blades to accidentally slip and cut a horse if they jump. Tika is none to sure of anything new that approaches...heck, a new brush can send her screaming backwards down the barn alley...so I figured this little do-dad was a perfect way to get her into the right frame of mind.

It took about five minutes, but once it was on her neck I was able to run it up and down, concentrating on the area where her brand is (in case we should ever need to shave it), as well as running it down her back and shoulder area. She was tense, but stood quietly. I'll need to practice with this a few more times, I think, and then maybe I'll pull out the clippers and see how we fare.

Cabin in the Woods

2011-03-18T09:50:00.000-07:00

Back in the day when I was a kid, we kept our horses up the road in a hidden pasture back behind some trees. There was an old homestead up there that had long been abandoned. The current owners occasionally visited for a week or two in the summer months, using it as a little vacation retreat. But a few years ago we had a great, heavy snow, and the old house simply couldn't withstand the weight. Through the bareness of the winter trees, I could make out it's collapsed roof and silently mourned. It had been such a lovely place to ride past, with lilac trees surrounding it and old roses climbing the nearby trees. And now, at least from the road, it appeared to be nothing more than a pile of rubble, with just one wall left standing.

Darling and I went for a walk a few weeks ago, and found ourselves meandering up the old familiar path that I'd once taken on horseback. And there, hidden behind a thicket of overgrown briars and brambles, was this tiny reconstructed cabin. A fraction of the size of the original home, the owners had made sure to salvage every bit they could and created this idyllic scene.

Naturally, I had to send Darling over to pose.

I was disappointed that I didn't have her all dolled up in some vintage dress, but of course that is not how we normally go out walking. I'll simply have to convince her to return with me on some sunny afternoon.

Ooh Yeah I'm a Wild One

2011-03-13T07:56:00.000-07:00

Well I'm just outa school
Like I'm real real cool
Gotta dance like a fool
Got the message that I gotta be
A wild one
Ooh yeah I'm a wild one

Gotta break it loose
Gonna keep 'em movin' wild
Gonna keep a swingin' baby
I'm a real wild child

Well, I'm a real wild one
An' I like a wild fun
In a world gone crazy
Everything seems hazy
I'm a wild one
Ooh yeah I'm a wild one

Gotta break it loose
Gonna keep 'em movin' wild
Gonna keep a swingin' baby
I'm a real wild child

Barefoot Training

2011-03-11T08:49:00.000-08:00

I need to thank my friend McDebbie. When I saw her yesterday, she told me how exhausted she was. But, she said, Tika was now broke to ride. She'd spent the night riding her all over, upstairs and down, at Bob's Burger and Brew, around the tables and chairs, through the storage area, over boxes of bottles. Tika did great. I'm sure the reason she excelled is because Deb was doing her famous Barefoot Training...she rides and trains in bare feet.

In your dreams...McDebbie...only in your dreams...

Gray Mare

2011-03-08T19:25:00.000-08:00

The other day I drove south to clean a few stalls and ride a couple horses for the Old Cowboy. Sheza has developed sarcoids over the past few months, however, and one of them was beneath where the saddle sits. Up until now, I'd continued to ride, as it really didn't seem to be irritating her, and it was quite small.

Now, some of you may be asking what a sarcoid is. I'd heard of them for the first time a few years ago, but had never had a first hand encounter until now. There are several forms of sarcoids, but in short, they are skin tumors on horses, often benign, and somewhat common (or so says the Wiki page I found.)

Not only are there several forms of sarcoids, there also appear to be several ways and thoughts on how to treat them, from freezing to treating with a chemo agent or tying them off with a rubberband.

The sarcoids on Sheza are nodular sarcoids; firm lumps that raise up like warts. Two are small, but the one on her side had begun to grow and was now about the size of a fingertip. I'd discussed with Curt the best way to remove them. He had me don a pair of rubber gloves and handed me a cream which was a chemo agent. Before starting, he shaved the area around the nodules for easier application.

I'd have taken a photo, but for two things. One, my hands were wearing gloves and full of cream. Two, the battery was dead on my camera because I was smart enough to not notice that I'd bumped it into the 'on' position when putting it into my truck.

In any case, riding is currently out of the question. Curt believes it should only be 4-5 days before the one on her side has disappeared, but the cream needs to be applied daily until that time. It's rather disappointing to not be riding this girl, as she challenges me in ways my own horses do not. She's a great teacher for me.

But while I wait for her to heal, we'll have some super model fun (shhhh....don't tell Tika!)

Out in the Wild

2011-03-05T08:13:00.000-08:00

It's where I'm going today.

Oh.
The.

Joys.
I would so rather be here, out in the wild.

Cat Burglar

2011-03-02T14:48:00.000-08:00

Today's post has nothing at all to do with mustangs, nor horses, but one very naughty kitty.

Snow Princess

2011-02-27T22:46:00.000-08:00

The snow still falls.
One must keep one's self occupied somehow, right?

People...I Don't Get Them

2011-02-26T16:42:00.000-08:00

Okay, sure. He's pretty. He's got a long, romantic mane. He's got eyes that speak to you. He's also 20 years old, so not exactly adoptable.

This filly is pretty, too. She has a romantic mop top and is a pretty buckskin color. At just two years of age, she, too, will have a hard time finding a home unless someone comes along and gives her a head start, getting her gentled and halter broke.

The old guy will be sent to Long Term Holding with a couple hundred other geldings, where he can live out his days on a ranch, getting fed year round rather than starving in the winter like he did when he was wild.

The filly, on the other hand, will travel back and forth from adoptions to short term holding facilities, and eventually be shipped back east where she can again be hauled back and forth for people to look at and possibly adopt. But probably not. And she will continue this cycle until she is six years old, at which point she'll be shipped to Long Term Holding.

So tell me, why are people so anxious to sponsor the old gelding? Why do they want to spend their money to ship him to a sanctuary, where his life will be no different than if he were at Long Term Holding?

Why do they turn up their nose at helping a youngster, who could have a shot at a home?

I don't get it.

Yesterday, the Snow Fell

2011-02-24T08:48:00.000-08:00

I looked out the window, and this is what I saw.

I was not happy.

So I went outside.

Because doesn't everyone go outside, in the cold,
on a snowy day, which makes them unhappy?

But I knew someone who could make me happy.

See? She even makes you happy, doesn't she?

Just looking at her, looking deep into into the lens of the camera.

Puts a smile on everyone's face.

Still in wild mustang mode.

Looking for sweet spring grass beneath the snow.

Or maybe just playing snow plow with her nose.

Next time the snow falls, I will venture outside again.

Because someone out there makes me happy.

******

Psst! Hey, y'all, trot on over and visit the newly updated blogs!
http://adoptalivinglegend.blogspot.com/
http://mustangu.blogspot.com/

I Want You to See This

2011-02-22T19:10:00.000-08:00

I want you to see this.

Do you know who that is up there?

It's Buck Brannaman.

Do you see what that is up there?

It's announcing the official selection

of the documentary done

on Buck Brannaman.

Cool, eh?

Do you see that photo down there?

Down below these words?

That photo was selected to be in the documentary

The documentary on Buck Brannaman

The one that was selected and premiered

At the Sundance Film Festival

****

Yeah

I know

I'm cool, too

Or maybe I'm just a lucky goober

Probably the latter

I Feel the Earth Move

2011-02-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

Fire Breathing Red Head

2011-02-18T13:49:00.001-08:00

A week had passed since my last ride. Things were busy, with Curt working on his house projects and me not wanting to distract him. But that day, he said let's ride, so I did.

And then I left.

Tika had been moved home while I was gone over the weekend, and this time she didn't move back. Once more, she sat. The wind was blowing and there was no way I was going to step into that stirrup and climb on her back when she was snorting and blowing. No way.

But today the sun was out, and the air was calm and warm. I turned Tika out for a bit, and she didn't run. That is...not unless I pushed her into it. She was content. At ease. Relaxed.

I brushed my girl off, the winter hair flying about us, getting caught in my own hair, and in my mouth, and sticking to just about everything. The saddle blanket soon lay across her back, followed by the saddle, and the cinch tightened about her belly. I put the bridle on, and grabbed my helmet.

A few circles in my super sandy (and deep) round pen showed that I had a mare who really wasn't into snorting or working very hard. I climbed onto her back, rubbed and patted, and climbed off. Best to put the dogs away.

When I came back, I decided maybe I'd put her in the paddock, which was just a wee bit smaller than the round pen. Then I was again on her back, and we began walking, turning, whoa-ing, walking and turning, left and right, and stopping with great big pats on the neck. And all was well with our first ride at home, alone, and in the great outdoors.

Choose Me!

2011-02-17T08:49:00.000-08:00

They come in all shapes and sizes. All sorts of colors, too! From sweet to sassy, fat or classy. I'm certain you've got room for just one...haven't you?

Red Dun mare gives a little stretch, hoping that doing tricks may get her noticed.

Prehistoric! Cute little gelding will shed out to be a sooty buckskin.

From Palomino Butte, this lovely yearling gelding is looking deep into your eyes...

Two for one deal! Poor gray mare...she looks so uncomfortable.

Yearling filly will have people thinking you're riding a Kiger. She's going to grow up to be something special.

Cute appy from Warm Springs. Like tradition? Look at that tail!

I must admit I'm a little sweet on this mare. I believe she's two...maybe three?

Very nice yearling filly. Good size, pretty head.

Okay, she turned my crank. Nicely put together and a pretty little face.

Two years old. Likely to be overlooked due to her coloring, this little filly was CUTE!

Me Day

2011-02-08T19:53:00.000-08:00

It was lesson day with the girls. Sometimes I ride, sometimes I don't. Today, I did. I saddled up Sheeza, the lovely gray daughter of NCHA world champion Quiote Mac. I've ridden her before...she's way better than I am! Today, for whatever reason, she was feeling her oats; her tail was flagging like one of those nutty Arabian horses (sorry, Mikael!), and she was snorting and breathing fire. I hadn't gone more than one full circle when The Master decided he'd put on his boots.

It's not often that those who are there for lessons have an opportunity to watch The Master at work. The old cowboy who now gimps and limps and talks about the aches and pains suddenly transforms into a most capable athlete. Light, balanced, sheer poetry on horseback. The young woman who'd come along with a friend sat on the wood bench and let a 'Wow...' escape from her mouth. It wasn't long before Sheeza was whipped into shape and I was back in the saddle.

No, no I do not have photos of me on the horse. I was on the horse. Do we need to go over this each time?

Time to put Sheeza away, and Patch comes out to play. And Tika, too!

Someone forgot to turn the water off in the back barn, and the hose was leaking, and water was everywhere inside Tika's stall, which happens to be the lowest point in that barn. I shall not name names as I do not want to incriminate anyone. Or myself. Or anyone else, because it may not have been me. But it was me who cleaned up the mess while Tika ran and played.

Once Tika was put away, I pulled out the other old man, Dox Chex, and let him take a spin around the arena. How old is Dox now? I think 33. Dox likes to jiggy jog all the way from his stall to the arena, and he's not a horse most people want to handle because of it. Nothing wrong with him, except he's always jogged and at this point in his life he doesn't feel the need to change any habits. He nickers all the way down the alley way, talking to the ladies, letting them know that the King of Everything is strutting past. And of course, the ladies all look out their stall doors and swoon at the appropriate time. And Dox is proud. Very, very proud, believing he is the studliest of all studs. Which, of course, he is.

Somedays...

2011-02-07T21:45:00.000-08:00

...you just know spring is around the corner!

Darling's Decision

2011-02-06T07:57:00.000-08:00

"I love jumping...but I think I like cutting more," she said. "But Steve Holt! isn't a cutter..."

No, Steve Holt! is a lot of things, but a cutting horse he surely is not. No stop on that boy, not in the least. We ran into more than one wall those first few weeks of riding before he finally figured out that when I said 'whoa', I meant stop now, not to the rail and hang a right. Oh, sure, eventually he did catch on, but he's simply not built for dragging his tail in the dirt sort of stop needed when working a cow.

I told Darling she could take some time and think about it, that she didn't need to rush into anything. Hang onto Steve Holt! and ride a bit down at Curt's, and see what she really wanted to do. But the days, weeks, and even a couple of months have slipped by, and Darling has not ridden. She asked me to bring the western saddle home (it's been with Tika) so she could use that to ride, saying it was just too cold to get breeches on and sit in a little english saddle, but the motivation simply has not been there.

We talked about her working with Primera while she was here, but that wasn't sparking her interest. This summer, all she wanted to do was be the first to climb on, but now? No...it wasn't really a priority.

We discussed the possibility of finding a youngster at the corrals, a yearling or two year old that she could work with and eventually cut with, or maybe taking Whispr, the coming two year old great granddaughter of Dox (Curt's old stallion) that is with us right now. Both of those options seemed like what was looming in the future. But then...

Last night after coming in from doing chores, Darling said to me, "I think I want to sell Steve Holt!...but I don't want to get another one. Not right now. If I want to ride, I can always go down to Curt's and ride."

I know...I ought to have warned you to sit down before reading this...

Giving Lip and Lotsa Bull

2011-02-02T04:51:00.000-08:00

About a week ago, friend McDebbie delivered a couple of horses here for Darling and I to start working. One of these was Primera, that adorable filly we had with us at the fair this past summer. Primera had only been saddled up once or twice since that time, so it was almost like starting over...but of course since it wasn't a huge issue the first time, it wasn't anything to write home about this time, either. We're looking forward to seeing how this girl progresses!

Meanwhile, down at Curt's, Tika has decided to start giving a little lip in objection to being tied and left to stand at the rail. This is not her favorite exercise, but certainly one she needs to figure out.

Of course, considering the happenings and goings on, she did quite well to only stand and make faces. Out behind the arena the tractor was busy loading manure from the compost bin into the dump truck, and inside the arena, raging back and forth directly behind her, was the bull.

Given all the extra noise and distraction, I opted not to climb aboard. Good enough just to stand and absorb all that was happening. She's a lovely observer, isn't she?

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

2011-01-24T14:02:00.000-08:00

Rain does not make life in the barn very happy. Patch the puppy bounces and frolics and could care less about the water and mud, of course. However, we humans are less than happy to find it shaking from him and landing on us while we're doing our chores. Thankfully, Patch would prefer to be inside the barn, happily 'herding' the manure fork from stall floor to wheelbarrow. But when the cleaning is done, it's time for Patch to head back to his room so that he doesn't end up beneath pony feet when it's time to ride.

Despite how she may look, I'm certain that Tika loves being indoors rather than out in the weather. She's simply showing her displeasure at having that unruly forelock of hers combed out. Look at those eyes! Every bit as much expression and emotion as Patch.

And speaking of expression...would you look at this?! Honestly, every time Tango comes out to be saddled, he starts sticking his tongue out. What a character! I'll bet some of you remember Tango as a baby, way back when Sandy was down at Curt's, and that adorable colt was born?

Drip, drip, drop. The rain just does not stop. Thankfully I've got both Curt's arena or the riding club for this dreary season. Cannot wait for sun.

2011-01-21T14:58:00.000-08:00

City Boy and I weren't too far up the road when it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't have my zoomie zoomie lens. City Boy merely rolled his eyes and continued up the highway. It was cold and damp and pretty-gosh-darned miserable out there. We probably weren't more than 15 miles up the highway when we pulled off and into the state run hatchery. From there, we walked to the riverbank and spotted a couple of bald eagles, along with this youngster perched on a snag. The baby sat there not paying us much heed, his mind intent on scouring the river for salmon.

Salmon are coming upriver to spawn right now. Once the females have laid their eggs, and the male has fertilized them, the salmon die. In the hatchery, the same thing is going on, only there are no eagles diving down to benefit. We, however, spotted several.

It was cold to the bone up there. Snow was falling in the foothills and the rain nearly cut straight through you. We didn't spend much time outside of the car. Who needed photos of eagles, anyway? Who's idea was it to climb that miserable mountain in such wretched weather?

We turned around and headed back toward civilization. Well, at least back toward home, which thankfully was just 20 minutes down the hill.

But wait!

What's that? A bakery up here in the tall, tall timber? Hmmm...must stop. Must check. What have they got that we maybe must have?

Oh, yeah!
This was definitely my idea.
Definitely.

What I'd Like to do Today

2011-01-20T10:13:00.000-08:00

I'm taking the day off. Sort of. I've been down at Curt's helping with chores, cleaning stalls, riding horses, and of course working with Tika, nearly non-stop for the past few weeks. But not today. Today, just as soon as horses were watered & fed, and immediately after I finished my mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, I headed for home. City Boy asked what we were going to do today. I didn't have a plan...but now I think I do. It's eagle season in the Pacific Northwest, and I'm going to see if I can talk him into a drive up river. Ought to be great fun in the rain!

What are you doing today?

Goodbyes

2011-01-17T19:40:00.000-08:00

They're difficult, no matter the situation. Goodbyes, that is. This weekend some friends of ours made the drive up here to pick up Lefty. This is difficult. City Boy has bonded. I have not. Oh...I may have if I didn't still have his hoof prints on my body. He is, after all, a real snuggle bunny when he wants to be.

Speaking to one of the wranglers at the corrals, she suggested that perhaps it was time to go cowboy with this boy and lay him down. I know...you were scared at going cowboy, weren't you? Lefty needs to know who's boss. But I've not laid a horse down before and not sure I can get this monster in a black and white wrapper to cooperate as my first victim.

Enter Feral Redeye, who has wanted Lefty from the beginning. We have no clue if Lefty will ever come around and make a solid horse for City Boy, or be a horse that I can trust, but Feral wants to see what he can accomplish. And if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out.

So Lefty climbed into the same horse trailer that originally hauled him away from the corrals, and went back to the small farm in Oregon from which Darling and I picked him up several months ago in hopes of learning some life lessons.

And the first thing that happened when he got there? Kicked Robbie, the drafty lead mare, and caused her to be three legged for a solid 30 minutes. Tika still has a knot on her leg, just below her hock, where he did the same thing when turned out with her. Hopefully Robbie will put him in his place, but I sure hope she doesn't get hurt in the process!

A New Day, A New Ride

2011-01-15T05:57:00.000-08:00

"Get your mare out and lunge the @%$ out of her today," came the directions from the old cowboy. Didn't need to tell me that!

We began in the arena where the sand is nice and deep. Helps wear them down just a bit, working in that sand. Heck, it wears me down trying to walk across it! I only spent about five minutes there, though, before heading to the round pen where I could work her in the smaller space. Easier to get her to lope when she has that wall, too. In the arena she doesn't quite make a full circle before trying to fade away to the outside, or dropping back into a trot. So the initial freshness gets worked in the sand so that hopefully she's thinking when we get to the round pen.

Today she didn't really feel like thinking, I guess, and chose to fly like a young colt in circles around me. Well, it was her choice, so I just kept her going a bit longer than maybe she'd have wanted to go on her own. Small circles also wear a horse down because they need to use their bodies more than in a larger circle. Once Tika decided that she'd rather trot than hand gallop tight circles, I began to ask her for stops and turns from the center of the round pen.

It was another five minutes before Curt showed up, and by now Tika was warmed up...literally. The sweat was working through that long coat of hers and was beginning to drip from locks of hair.

As Curt entered the round pen, Tika backed up. He took the rope and asked her to step up to him, but instead she lifted her head and backed away like a rope horse dragging a calf to the fire. A treat appeared, however, in the old cowboy's hand, and Tika decided that maybe she'd be friends again.

I mounted up and Curt led us a few feet forward, then walked to Tika's face and unsnapped the rope, asking her if she was going to be a good girl today and not give me a ride like she had the previous day. He rubbed her face and offered another treat, and then I asked her to move to the rail.

There was a slight edginess, but I don't know if it was her or me to be honest. Or perhaps a little of each? A couple of circles at the walk and Curt asked me to come towards him, and another treat appeared. We reversed, walked, trotted a couple of circles, stopped for a treat, then reversed again. Three or four treats later, and the treats were gone. By then Tika was looking at Curt each time we turned to see if he had something for her, and her reluctance toward him had disappeared.

I wasn't on more than ten minutes, I don't think. Perhaps not even that long. We only walked and trotted, and when she tried to pick up the pace at the trot Curt asked me to check her a bit, so I did, and she didn't worry about feeling the bit in her mouth, just responded by slowing down a wee bit.

Tika was delighted to have the saddle pulled from her dripping body once we were back in the arena, and the moment my back was turned she dropped down into the arena sand for a good bath. I think this is the equivalent to a bubble bath for me. She sure does enjoy the deep sand, as you can tell from her after bath photos!

"Ride Her! Ride Her!"

2011-01-13T17:54:00.001-08:00

There are just some days you're kinda glad there wasn't a video camera around, you know? Today was one of those days. I'd actually considered handing the old cowboy my camera, since yesterday's ride had gone so smoothly, but something stopped me. He probably wouldn't want to be hanging onto that while helping me, anyway.

As it turns out, he may have dumped it in the dirt, and Tika may likely have stomped it on her way across the round pen. Because today Tika did what I was afraid Tika might do. She hit the panic button.

"Ride her! Ride her!"

"Whoa!" (me)

"Whoa!" (Cowboy)

Do you know how long an 8 second ride is? Me either. No one clocked us. Not that she bucked, because Tika doesn't do that (much.) She simply dashed as quickly as she could, looking for a way out of whatever mess she suddenly thought she was in.

Curt had showed up at the round pen far sooner than usual. Typically I had ten minutes to lunge Tika and get the jitters out of her. But the last couple of rides we only worked half that time, and yesterday was such a good day. So relaxed, just walking and trotting, head lower and no real speed. We opted not to lope since she was listening and so quiet. So when Curt showed up and said, "She'll be okay,", I went ahead and climbed on.

And she was okay, really...except Curt was holding a coffee cup in his hand, and she didn't like him walking up to her with it because it was different than usual. He hid it behind his back and stood alongside her as I mounted, and it was business as usual. Then Curt did something totally foreign to Tika, and he stood off to the side along the wall so that we had room to do a few figure 8s.

Tika was unsure. He wasn't where he was supposed to be, and again with the cup! What was up with the cup? She didn't know, and she didn't care. I got a couple of circles in when something sparked in her mind, and we were off to the races where I could hear Curt's voice hollering at me over the sudden drumming of hoofbeats on the round pen floor.

I kept my hands low, grabbing that glorious mane, in an attempt not to snatch at her mouth and make things worse. She darted quickly around the pen in a mad dash, and at one point I wondered if she bucked, but I think it was more of a bounce, the kind you'd see a frisky lamb or bounding deer do. All four legs like pogo sticks, elevating the body upward. She did that only once, and at some point Curt had managed to get off the rail and was again in the center of the round pen, stepping in front of her in an effort to stop or turn her.

She elected to turn. At least twice, maybe three times. Turn and burn, dash 38' to the other side, slam on the brakes, turn and burn again. I tried to keep my body loose, but each time she stopped, I felt myself moving forward like a crash test dummy. Both Curt and I hollered whoa a couple of times, and eventually the ride came to an end, with Tika heaving and wondering what the heck had happened. I'd love to be able to tell her, but I really don't know. And the cowboy just figures it was the coffee cup, "She notices everything."

Once the fun was over, we went back to walking and trotting and getting her mind back into some sort of order. When she relaxed, we called it good. And here I was just thinking she may be ready to come home. Not sure about that now!

I Object!

2011-01-09T18:32:00.000-08:00

I came home, anxious to climb back onto Tika and continue her training. When I walked out to the barn, however, Lefty was rip roaring in such a manner and doing acrobatics in an effort to defy gravity, that Tika, too, thought a little hip hop about the round pen was in order. That was before I saddled her up, of course, but even while lunging her feet were floating a little freely. I bounced up and down in the stirrup a bit, and if I could have guaranteed no reaction from Lefty on the other side of the panels, I'd have gone ahead and climbed all the way up. But the last time Lefty saw someone on horseback, he snorted and dashed off, kicking and bucking as he went.

No need to tempt fate, I decided. I didn't think Tika would react while I was on top, but self preservation being what it is, I opted to haul her instead to the riding club where there were no Lefty horses to distract us.

I pulled my saddle out of the trailer and went back for Tika. Three riders were there, chit chatting quietly. Perfect. They were done with their ride and would be good back up if something stupid happened on our first ride in a week. I smiled, said hello, turned and looked toward the round pen, and...

Where was the round pen?

"Took it down. Clinic next weekend, getting set up. Was brought up at the last meeting, remember?" Um...oh, yeah... So Tika again wasn't ridden. Instead I lunged her a bit, and she was a good girl, impressing those that'd not seen her for a couple months. And then I loaded her up and headed south. South...because I needed to ride! Though by this time it was getting too late to do much on this particular afternoon, but at least if Tika were with Curt, I could get a few rides in this week before moving her home after the clinic. Probably best, anyway, after a week off to take my first few rides in familiar territory anyway, right?

So I left my red head in her stall, which I'd cleaned and bedded with fresh shavings the day I moved her out.

And when I woke up this morning? Snow... (that sound you just heard was my head banging on a wall, just so you know.)

Despite the objectionable white stuff, I did manage to make it down and work my girl, which went off without a hitch. But the forcast for the next few days appears a bit iffy, so I'm not sure that moving her south will get me any further ahead. But what else do we expect with Tika's training? A few days here, a few weeks there...just one more delay in getting our girl going solid, eh?

Summit Update

2011-01-08T18:15:00.001-08:00

View from our room at the South Point

First, let me just say I'm glad to be home. Glad to be away from Las Vegas and it's bright lights and gambling. Glad not to be breathing 'enriched' air forced into our lungs at the hotel. Glad to be cleaning stalls, and breathing in the scent of wild horses rather than cigarette smoke. The only thing I'll miss is the maid. I want a maid...someone who comes in and cleans up after me and makes my bed and delivers clean towels to my bathroom every day. Indeed, I do.

The Summit of the Horse proved to be quite interesting. I wasn't too sure what to expect; on one hand, there was talk about finding solutions, and slaughter being only one of the topics. What caught my eye on the front page of their website, however was this:

Control Excess Wild & Feral Horses: Deal with Unwanted, Abandoned, and Neglected Horses on all Lands

If you refuse to stand idly by while extreme environmentalists and wild horse non-experts create West-wide ecological destruction by allowing horses to overrun the resource base…this is your chance. Those of us who live on the land, and understand implicitly the danger presented by a one-species myopia that will destroy native wildlife, and cause damage that will take hundreds of years and billions of dollars to restore…we need to speak up. If you want to send a powerful message to Washington, D.C. and the citizens of the United States as to what true range scientists, conservationists, and horse experts know are long-term, sustainable solutions based on science, experience, and a deep compassion for horses…then this is one event that you cannot afford to miss.

Now, I don't know about you, but to me the fact that this was their lead off topic gave me the feeling that someone was pushing to do away with excess wild horses, and in a big way. If you've been here at the Mustang Diaries for any amount of time, you'll know I'm in favor of gathers and supportive of the BLM's management. However, I simply do not approve of one giant sweet that sends my beloved mustangs to Alpo. I understand the need for a solution, absolutely. But something here felt very menacing.

Nevada has more wild horses than all other states combined.

I'm a fan of education and realistic expectations where both mustangs and domestic horses are concerned. That is to say...there are too many, and our economy simply cannot support the numbers we're currently dealing with. Opening slaughter plants will not stop abuse...we know that. But will they reduce abuse? We know that it will provide jobs and help the economy, but at what expense?

There were three speakers that made an impression on me; the first one being Tom Collins of Clark County, Nevada. Mr Collins was obviously not a wild horse fan. There was no mistaking that he wanted wild horses sent to slaughter, end of discussion. I wanted to throw up. Later in the day, Bob Abbey, BLM Director, stated in no uncertain terms that healthy wild horses would not be euthanized. End of discussion. Well...not really, he had more to say, but that one sentence put an end to any further discussion all weekend on sending excess wild horses to slaughter. Sue Wallis stated later that this was never about wild horses, that they make up only 3% of the horses in the US; this was about what was best for the horse economy. Um...Sue? If that was the case, why the lead off paragraph on the Summit website?

Sherrie, Temple Grandin, and myself

But Sue wasn't the third speaker to make an impression. Indeed...it was Dr. Temple Grandin. Oh! I feel as though I've met a Hollywood celebrity! She was absolutely worth the trip. A brilliant speaker, she captured our attention from the beginning and had people sitting on the edge of their seats, straining to hear each and every word. Temple made it clear that she wasn't part of the decision on whether or not slaughter was reinstated for horses, just that if it was, she wanted it to be the safest, most humane method available. She stated often being shipped to Mexico was a horse's worst nightmare, and that needed to stop.

So here's the thing. Temple's goal is to make this the safest, easiest end a horse has to face. Shouldn't that be our goal as well? When I used to consider slaughter, it made me shudder. Not so much that someone would eat a horse (well...not since I was a kid anyway) but the transportation and the cruel way it was carried out. Because we've raised our own food here, we know it needn't be a stressful situation. Small facilities, local and easily accessible, make it easy on those who raise pigs, cows or sheep. Why can't we have something local for horses?

I know I'm going to be slammed if any of the A crowd sees this. They have no desire to learn. But while I sat at the summit, a woman stood up and introduced herself as having a rescue, and told us she was opposed to slaughter. Then she took a deep breath and said that if it were carried out like Dr Grandin suggested it could be, then...and only then...she could see it as something that would be preferable to the abuse and neglect that many horses are facing today. And I've got to tell you, I was overwhelmed with emotion when I listened to her speak. I wanted to run over and hug her. She got it. And she was willing to say that it was about the horse, not her emotions. Would that all horse lovers could figure that out.

Up in the Air, Jr. Birdman!

2011-01-02T15:20:00.001-08:00

Come this time tomorrow it'll be bright lights and sunshine as Darling, McDebbie and I meet up with our friends Karen and Andi in Las Vegas. We're heading down to Summit of the Horse...called by some 'Slaughter of the Horse'. I'm honestly not too sure what to expect, though I'm hoping we'll meet up with some like minded folks who have a heart for what we're doing with the mustangs up this way.

But I can't think about that right now, because I just finished measuring my bag to see if it qualified as a carry on (it does!) and am trying to figure out a way to pack a laptop and camera into the second bag. It's a puzzle, to be sure.

I'm having a difficult time concentrating even on that, because my head is still in the clouds after today's ride on Tika. I worked her for about fifteen minutes before Curt showed up at the round pen. Today was ride six; we'd been on the lunge line each day, though the last time I rode (Friday), Curt had taken it off for the last few minutes. Today, once I was up, he unsnapped us, and off we went. Walk, trot, lope. And stop. Oh...what a glorious stop my girl has! She knows how to use her hiney, that's for sure. Even Curt let out a whoop as she stopped from the lope and set her hind end down. He calls her Cinderella...doesn't that just put a smile on your face? "How you doing today, Cinderella?"

Cinderella came home today and will have a week off. It was all I could do not to pull into the riding club parking lot on my way back to the house and sneak a second ride, but I didn't. Duty called...packing must be done...feet must meet earth. I'm going to miss my girl this week!

For those interested in learning more about Summit of the Horse, simply click the link. They're having live feed, as I understand, so you may be able to watch parts of it from your computer.

Please say a prayer for us that we have a safe and productive journey, and I'll see y'all when we get home!

And this was how 2010 Came To An End

2010-12-31T15:46:00.000-08:00

Clear and cold...teeth chattering, finger numbing cold. So peaceful, so tranquil...and cold, of course...cold.

Because I spotted it over and Karen's Rough String and thought it a fabulous idea (and because I'm not at all shy about swiping fabulous ideas), I thought it may be fun to look back over 2010 and see just what we did. I must admit there moments I'd forgotten...and wish I could have kept that way!

For instance, nearly a full year ago, the Desperate Horsewife Bakes a Cake. This year? No cake. Sorry, Darling.

I'm not terribly sure how it happened, but I'm thinking the new pair is now looking pretty similar to the old pair in I Was Sittin' Here Thinkin'... Time for duct tape!

My recurring nightmare...fishing with a bobber...Fishing is a lot like Gentling Mustangs

The Red Headed Fury pulled at our heartstrings in February.

Darling began taking jumping lessons early in 2010. I'm not really sure why she was upset, are you?

No horse drove the bobber method down my throat harder than Red. What a special boy he was...and is. Some horses simply are here to let you know that you ought not take a single thing for granted.

Darling and Steve Holt! had a little fun in the sun early this spring.

Best Daddy Note, Ever! No argument there. Darling and I also had fun on the Sumas Mt Trail Challenge over Memorial Day weekend.

It's Complicated...I cried, you cried, we all cried. I still don't quite have a grasp on why I did what I did, except that it simply must have been time.

The Beautiful Wadatika has captured so many hearts during this year of struggles, but she definitely offered the best gift of the season...even though it came the Day After Christmas.

Tika's week has been fan-flippin-tastic. From the day after Christmas, to New Year's Eve, she's progressed tremendously in less than a week. Today I rode on my own...no strings attached...walk and trot and stop and turn. Curt stood back, long line coiled loosely and no longer attached. I'm looking forward to the things that Tika will accomplish in 2011. No goals, no deadlines, just time and patience and progress.

Hope y'all have a delightful evening, and wish you all a Happy New Year!

Birth...Without The Mess

2010-12-30T17:37:00.001-08:00

One of my gifts for Christmas this year was a new printer. Can I get a Yeehaw? This is the Epsom Stylus Photo 1400, which will print an image up to 13x19. Excellent! Fewer trips to the printer when I sell images. For this, I am happy.

I waited patiently (not) for the men in my life to get the creature set up so I could take it for a test drive.

But wait...did anyone buy me photo paper? Maybe there was some in the box...

Where is the paper? Did it get thrown out with the left over gift wrap? Did anyone see any paper?

No?

Sniff....

Today City Boy came home with paper. Not only did he have a package of 8x10, but he'd found some 13x19 on sale and picked up a couple of those as well.

Hello? Did I hear a Yeehaw?

So tonight I sat down, looked through matt sizes and found a stock size of 12x16. I pulled up a photo and formatted it to fit, and with baited breath I hit the print button....

And there it was...my baby. My first born. Isn't it beautiful?

Chicken Poop

2010-12-29T15:45:00.000-08:00

The round pen at Curt's has eight solid sides, and they are eight feet high. The width is just 36' across, which gives enough room to move, but not enough for a horse to get completely out of control. When I see people with 60' round pens, I wonder how they start colts in them. They tell me their colts can't lope in something smaller...and I'm pretty sure they're wrong. Those colts simply haven't learned how to use their bodies effectively.

Inside Curt's round pen today, Tika and I took ride four. Yesterday was better than the day before, but today was better than yesterday, which is, of course, the way it should be. Yesterday had more of the lurching and jerking, and Curt hollering at me, telling me I was chicken poop. But not poop. Another word that meant poop.

It began like this: "I thought you'd have Darling here photographing this."

Darling was indeed there, but after 2.5 hours on the back of Doxee, she'd opted to stay somewhere warm rather than stand on the block of wood outside of the round pen photographing me. Which was fine, because "I didn't think it wise to have her leaning over the wall above our heads," I explained.

"Chicken poop!"

"Yes, that's right, I am."

And off we went in circles, left and right, turn and stop and left and right. And then Tika did something, and I'm not really sure what, but we felt suddenly out of control. I was holding on, saying 'easy', while Curt was laughing and telling me I was okay. "I am not okay!" I hollered back. I'm not sure what I was, to be honest, except not in my seat. Curt was still laughing as he stepped back a bit, taking off the pressure, and Tika immediately dropped to a trot and then a walk.

Curt then decides that I need to make her walk toward him. Tika does not like forward motion such as this, and despite my following orders and bumping her with my legs, she is not budging an inch.

"Spank her," says the cowboy, matter of factly.

"I can't!"

"Spank her."

"I'm chicken poop!"

"Spank her or I quit!"

Deep breath, eyes squinting, I gingerly reach back and wiggle the end of my reins towards Tika's hiney. Jump! Lurch! Halt! Okay, breath again. Open eyes. Cowboy still standing in front of us, shaking his head. "Chicken Poop."

Oh, And Did I Mention?

2010-12-27T16:19:00.000-08:00

Tika had a pedicure last week. Even her hind feet got all prettied up without an issue. She was a very good girl.

Today was ride #2 on the Beautiful Wadatika. Getting to the point of forward motion went a little smoother, and we weren't more than a couple of strides into things when Curt gave a bit of a push and Tika was loping. I'm finding Tika to be a bit challenging, since I'm commanded to simply sit and depend fully on Curt to drive her forward, stop her and turn her. He's not as easy to read as a cow, as it turns out. Or even a HydraBull. I'm not always sure which way we'll be going next, and Tika is just jerky enough to have me feeling a bit like a rag doll.

The jerkiness is really Tika listening and trying to do what's right. She moves fast, then hesitates to see if she made the right choice, and before the stop is complete, she's moving again. I used a little leg today to help her move forward, and a bit more rein as well. As I suspected, the right rein causes her to toss her to shake her head a bit, but with Curt pushing her from the center of the round pen, she forgot about the pressure I was creating and listened to him.

I was looking at some videos on you tube today and came across this one, shot nearly a year ago, on Darling's YT account. Wow...whiplash!

Best Day After Christmas...EV~AH!

2010-12-26T12:47:00.000-08:00

It was a day like any other day, in the beginning. A bit warm for December, but wet and windy. I climbed out of bed a bit later than usual and headed outside in the dark to toss hay to the three horses here at home. I then climbed into my truck and headed south to see Tika.

Curt's been a little slow the past few days to get out into his barn, and I've found myself pulling up to an arena who's door is still closed. This morning, however, the door was open and I found him in the barn, along with his border collie pup, Patch, tossing hay into stalls. I picked up the hose and finished up the watering for him, and we went inside to have our coffee (him) and hot chocolate (me) while waiting for the horses to finish up.

We talked about how we'd spent Christmas. Curt's wife had purchased him a sport coat and trousers, a dress shirt and sweater. Evidently she wants him to meet some of her friends from her high school days, "and she doesn't want me looking like a cowboy, I guess", he said with a wink. I wonder if he'll still wear his cowboy hat?

After finishing up our drinks, I told him I was going to get my mare out. "Work her in the arena a bit; that sand will wear her down a bit." Sure thing, boss! And so I saddled her up and rather heading to the round pen, we went into the arena where the footing is nice and deep and indeed will wear a horse down a bit quicker.

It wasn't long before Tika was feeling a bit warm on her chest, but there was no heavy breathing, and she was working quietly at a long trot when Curt came walking in. "Where's your helmet?" he inquired.

My eyes about popped out of my head. "You don't mean to put me on her in the arena!"

"No, just go get it." And I did. And from there we walked to the round pen, where Curt worked Tika in a few circles, getting her to move out fast, stop, turn, move fast again. All the while she was watching him, eyes wide, that half startled look on her face. But she listened. My girl listened. And then he picked up the stirrup and slapped the fender against her her side with force enough to make a loud clapping noise, but she barely moved, just looked at him, head held high, out of the corner of her eye.

He rubbed her neck, speaking quietly. Asked her to step forward with him a few steps, stopped, stroked her face. She dropped her head, letting out a sigh.

"Go ahead. Get on her."

My foot slipped into the stirrup and I bounced up, leaning over the saddle, rubbing her neck. I stepped back to the ground, picked up some mane in my left hand and bounced back up above her. This time my leg went over and I sat down in the saddle.

"Got your foot in the stirrup?" I nodded, and Curt began moving his feet, back and forth, side to side, in an attempt to get Tika to take those first few steps with him. My weight acted like an anchor. She wanted to follow him, but I was on top...so what should she do?

Curt stepped to the side, positioning himself like you would when lunging a horse. Tika, though, faced up. "Pull her nose away from me a bit," he said. I did, and she followed it enough for him to step back to her hip...

...and we were off!

Tika went to the rail, unsure at first, trotting a few steps, hesitating until Curt asked her to move forward, and off she went again. One time she even broke into a fast lope, which only lasted two strides but was enough to throw me over the horn of the saddle when she slammed to a stop. She watched and listened to Curt as he moved her forward, slowed her down, moved her again. "Keep your legs relaxed, don't tell her what to do, let me do the work until she figures it out," he said, all the while keeping his eyes on my redheaded girl.

It was only a few minutes. But to me? Today, I rode the wind.

Wild Wishes

2010-12-25T10:27:00.000-08:00

Here's to you, my friends, hoping all your holidays are wild!

Merry Go Tika

2010-12-23T12:02:00.000-08:00

Without a doubt, the most beautiful horse in the world...
Well, my world!

Know what I see here? Her tail! Remember her baseball bat?
Baseball bat no more!

Curt came into the round pen with us. That was scary.
Who is this man that makes me work so differently than you?

Have you ever tried to ground drive with a camera in one and a rein in your mouth?
I have...