Nearly Human

I feel nearly human again. Since Christmas, I've been dealing with the flu and it's not been pretty. Less pretty still is the sight of my barn and runs, where the constant rain has created a poop soup nightmare. Even with a fork, there's no way to scoop manure without ending up with a wagon heavy in water.

Drainage is a huge issue. The barn is downhill from the runs and the pasture, meaning that despite the gravel, the water is still making it's way under cover. This summer the number one priority will be to get another load of gravel into those two new stalls, lifting them up enough to keep them dry through the rainy months.



A couple of days ago, the rehab horse (now named Frisco) went to his new home. I've not spent the time with him I ought to have. Cold rain, Firecracker's wound, and my recent flu all contributing factors. But I did make sure to touch his head shy face every day when I went out. His biggest issue was with the lead rope; he has a huge fear of ropes and working around that will take some time. I'd worked him with the lariat a couple of times, letting it fall over his back just as I have the others before him. Of course, they didn't come with baggage like he did. It normally only took a few minutes to settle him down and I could snap the lead onto his halter. Once that happened, he would relax.

Of course when his ride showed up he decided to perform for the added audience. It took me what felt like an hour to get the lead rope on him. I was still feeling weak, the snow had just melted off three days worth of sloppy manure, and I'm sure those folks thought the absolute worst. Eventually I decided to toss the lariat over his head, which stopped the circus act and I got the lead rope on and he led nicely out to the trailer. He took some time deciding whether or not to load, but eventually did it nicely enough and he was off.

A couple things I have learned from this brief experience with him here: Never take on two projects at once, and double that sentiment in winter. Actually, having two projects during the summer months wouldn't be bad, but during winter, when I'm dealing with snow, icy cold rain, and colds/flu, well...that just doesn't work for me. I was trying to divide my time between two horses who needed attention, but the weather drove me back to the house before they both got what they deserved.

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On the Shores of Carpenter Creek

The Halter is Off

Firecracker's halter fell off that night. She's been receiving her powdered anti-biotic daily for the past few days; we have until Friday to go. I just pour it into her alfalfa pellets and she doesn't seem to mind.

The one thing that concerns me now is the possibility of infection at the sight and trying to keep it clean. I can't see the actual wound as her mane falls over the top. I tried fashioning a dauber out of her long branch and a piece of cloth bound to the end, but she'd have none of that. The stick is acceptable, the fabric is not. I'd dipped the fabric end into a tea tree salve and managed to bump it around a little bit behind the ear, but am afraid it only landed on her mane.

She doesn't mind walking in and out of my makeshift chute, providing there is a bit of hay there to munch on. I can shuffle the panels back and forth while she's standing there without her batting an eye. She's not in the least worried when I stand behind her. I can scratch shoulders, sides, and under the belly. I rubbed along the haunches and down her hind leg to the hock. I patted the side of her neck as you would before popping a needle in. None of it really fazed her. Her ears swivel as you move back and forth, always aware of where you're at, but the munching of hay continues. Until, that is, you get close to the head. 8-12 inches is her limit. That's when she becomes uncomfortable with your closeness, throwing up her head, trying to escape the confines of the panels. That's when I take a couple steps back and let her relax, then go about touching all the acceptable spots again.

I'm not really certain how I'm going to deal with this, except to just keep trying. I don't want her to associate my every visit with stress, or see the panels being shuffled into position and become frightened. So for now, it'll be try, then leave her to relax a day, then try again. She's light years ahead of where Sunny was, which is nice. Without this little set back, there's no doubt in my mind that Darling would be riding her this summer.

For now, it's just another exercise in building trust. The more she learns she can trust us from the ground, the fast things will come along once she's saddled and we're on board.

Graphic (somewhat) Photo

Firecracker's halter dangles from her face.

It's ugly, but at least it's off.

I picked up some ace this morning from the vet and gave it to her. Waited about 5-10 minutes, then went in to see what I could do. Nothing. I couldn't really notice a big difference, to be honest, although after 20 minutes or so she did seem to come up a bit and fought off my advances a little stronger. I decided to go the chute route with her. Put up a couple of panels close together. The front was butted up against the wood rails of the paddock and wide enough to hang a manger. Of course, I have nothing to block backing up, so ended up with it being a very long V shape with two panels on each side. Did I mention very long? Well, she's just wide enough at the hip to have made it impossible to squeeze the backs of the first pair of panels together, so two it was.

This was about 1 this afternoon. I had her in that squeeze chute for a good 40 minutes, adding grain and scratching and rubbing. She likes to be rubbed back on the hip and under her belly. She does NOT like to be rubbed up by her face. Actually, I think she may enjoy it in the future, but when rubbing against the halter I figured it was putting pressure on the wound, too.

Anyway, round one saw too much backing up...all the way to the end of my chute, which with two panels on each side turned out to be nearly 20 feet. So I let her go (after taking off the lead rope) and came back at dinner time to try again. This time I pushed and cajoled and managed to work those panels as tight as I could, not giving her any room to back up. And that worked. She wasn't happy about it, but decided it was too much work to fight it. Plus, there was hay in front of her that required her attention. The buckle came undone after a minute of work, but the halter stuck to her face. It fell off her nose, but when I left, it was still hanging from the wound.

I grabbed the camera to take a couple of pics of the halter hanging, figuring I'd be able to see the crusty stuff on her face, never dreaming I'd see the actual wound. Oh, my! It's right down to the flesh.

Just above the halter, you can see the red of her flesh.

I left the halter hanging. I could have grabbed it and she'd have pulled it off when pulling away from me, but I didn't want her to associate the sting or pain with me. I'm sure it'll fall off tonight. I hope it'll fall off tonight! If not, I'm going to have to pull. I'm also going to have to utilize that squeeze chute again tomorrow and try to get some salve onto the wound to help prevent infection.

I just can't tell you, though, how impressed I am with her willingness to let me handle her while she was in the chute. In a tight space, your first thought is that a wild horse, or one under distress, would fight, either rearing or kicking. But she didn't. Aside from backing away when she had the opportunity, she let me touch her all over, under her belly and back behind her tail.

Even after all I'd done to her today, once loose and back in her stall she let me walk up and rub on her side without protest. This little firecracker is settling down to sparkler status, and I think she's going to be a suitable replacement for Quiet Storm after all.