The Unintended

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!

Heartbreak...

Poor Quiet Storm just can't catch a break. About a month ago I received a call from her new owner, sobbing, in tears, telling me she'd have to give up the mustangs. She'd just been through heart surgery and the bills were coming in. I asked if I could buy her a couple months time, would that help? Yes...she said.

And so the word went out, and a few extra bales brought in. And she was overjoyed. But she's still struggling to get things straightened out with the hospital, trying to get a payment plan that will work, and tonight I heard from her daughter saying that her mom had decided she just can't take any more charity and has decided she needs to give the horses up.

Which means that our dear little girl is again in need of a home. If anyone here is in the northwest and would like more information on this now 4 year old sweet as can be little mare please let me know.

Also available is Mist (Firecracker). For those of you who've not been at the Diaries for long, she's a 5 year old Kiger mare. Debbie has been on her, although I don't know how many rides.

Should anyone want to help contribute to their care until we can rehome them, I'd be much obliged! You can paypal mustangdiaries@gmail.com where an account has been set up especially for them.

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

Yesterday Lynda the reporter and Alan the photographer were back. We met them at Curt's place so they could watch while I took a lesson, plus Jay had promised to meet us there to give Steve Holt! his first trim. Darling had her camera, but when I asked if she got video of Steve Holt!'s ride, she said..."Um...No." What?! Sigh...what will I do with that kid?

Curt had offered to let Lynda ride one of the cutting horses, and Darling did get that recorded. She also got Steve Holt! being introduced to a pedicure.

The Great Mystery...Part 3

"Miss Banana Head" and Sandy out on the trail.

Read Part 1

Read Part 2

I was stunned, to say the least. There were three questions swirling around in my mind.

1) How did that get there?
2) Which of the mares had aborted their foal?
3) What had caused the miscarriage?

And then I realized I had a fourth question...

4) Which of my geldings managed to sire a foal???

I looked out into the pasture at Jet, Sandy and Dude, contemplating the pieces of my puzzle. Quiet Storm had left the day before. The fetus was in the stall she'd used, but she'd pushed the door open and was out with everyone else when I'd come out to feed. I'd never walked around to the back to see if there was any little gift left deposited on the floor because...well, why would I? So had it been there when she left? Had she come home for one night, miscarried, and then I'd hauled her off?

Or had it been Jet? I'd taken Sandy and Jet for a trail ride Wednesday morning, not ever considering that perhaps there'd been a foal aborted the previous day or two.

I looked at the little pink thing laying at my feet. How far along was it? Where was it conceived? Who were it's parents?

Sandy had mounted and penetrated Mist (FC) back in July. I'd been aghast, but was reassured that while this wasn't the norm, it wasn't abnormal behavior either, especially when enticed by the mare. Mist was a flirt, and Sandy just tried his best to keep her happy. What if he was able to actually produce sperm? Oh, good grief...I had to call Deb and tell her what I'd found and let her know there was just the slightest possibility that Mist may be bred.

Among the phone conversations I had over the next 20 minutes was one with a vet. The fetus had a back that was at least 4" long, and the total length was 6-7". Given the size, he said, he'd estimate 4-5 months. Now the big question...could Sandy be the father? The vet said it's pretty rare to have a gelding with a retained testicle capable of siring a foal, but not 100% impossible. The only way to tell would be through a blood draw to check his hormone levels.

I was also faced with the math of who was here in that time frame. Jet, obviously. Sandy came home in late June, Dude didn't go out with the girls until late July, and Joe was late August. The foal had to have been conceived in June if the 4 month estimate was correct, meaning Sandy and Jet.

Then again... Where was Quiet Storm before coming home to me in July?

There were just too many unknowns here for me to make any progress. The fetus found it's way into a plastic bag and on Thursday I drove up to the clinic and left it in hopes of a vet being able to give me an approximate age so that I could better understand what was going on.

To Be Continued...

The Great Mystery...Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

I'd spent the better part of the weekend wondering just what I was going to do with Quiet Storm once I got her home. I emailed friends and acquaintances, explaining that I was running low on marital lives around here and pleading with them to consider taking Quiet Storm, if not permanently, then at least stash her for me so that City Boy didn't know what I'd done.

On Monday I received a call from Debi, laughing about my marital life status and saying that she could hide the little mustang at her place for me. Major relief, and just in the nick of time as I was to pick Quiet Storm up late that afternoon. Because it was getting dark, we decided it best to wait until Tuesday to haul her down to Deb's place.

By Tuesday morning, Debi was thinking maybe Quiet Storm would make a nice pony for her granddaughters. When I arrived, she had her daughter pull out a light weight Wintec saddle and hop on. You can guess what happened next, can't you?

Nothing.

Quiet Storm and Deb's oldest granddaughter

We're talking Quiet Storm, so of course nothing happened! She was just sweet, cute as a bug and completely at ease. And Deb fell under her spell. "How much do you want for her?" Oh, please...just love her and give her a good home was my reply, and the deal was done. No need to worry. Debi now had two of my former charges...Quiet Storm and Mist (FC) living in her pasture.

Deb and her daughter put me to work riding a few of their horses over the next hour or two, and it was getting late when I arrived home. I tossed hay into my horses and figured I'd leave the cleaning until tomorrow.

Imagine my surprise when, on Wednesday morning, I walked around to corner to find an aborted fetus laying on the stall floor...

To Be Continued...

All's Fair...

"Thing 2" sits atop Sandy while at the fair

The heat was nearly unbearable last week. I hauled four horses up to the Northwest Washington Fair on Sunday; Sandy, Firecracker, Duns and Magic. Sandy was there for display purposes only while the other three were up for adoption.

You may recall that Skittles was going to take Magic, the dark appy. But after a bit of thought she and her husband decided they weren't quite ready for a horse, and I must admit a bit of relief as I was beginning to question if this was a good match or not. Magic is a very strong horse, and in the hands of someone soft and gentle he had the potential of becoming a very pushy horse. So Skittles is disappointed, but we need to get her the right animal for her personality, and Magic needed the right person in his life as well.

So...unbearable heat. Four horses. The temps reached over 90 and I swear the humidity was right there as well. I did gentling demos with FC, Duns and Magic all week. Duns hadn't been touched prior to Monday morning, so people were amazed that by the end of the week he could be led around and touched. He's a timid sort, so he wasn't coming along as quickly as Magic who was letting me toss the saddle on and off his back by the end of the week.

Magic lets me scratch his withers and shows off his new red halter.

Both geldings and Firecracker found new homes. FC's new mamma is wonderful! Years ago I used to work with her and she just happened to be at the fair and fell instantly in love. I spoke with her yesterday and she told me she looks into FC's eyes and her own eyes fill with tears. Magic has gone to live with a therapist who'll be using him in her practice. And Duns, our timid two year old, has found a 13 year old girl who's just as sweet and quiet as he is. He's staying here until her dad can get the panels set up. She came to visit him last night and it was the first time she was allowed inside the pen with her new horse. Duns saw me hand the rope over to her and rather than looking and trying to follow me, he walked willingly behind his new girl.

I can't tell you how pleasing it is to know that all three horses have found such wonderful homes that fit them so perfectly! Despite the heat it was a very good week with a lot of public education on the adoption process and three horses in new homes.

Will Work For Treats

Put a piece of chocolate in front of me and I'll do just about anything you want. Within reason, of course.

Firecracker, it would seem, has the same set of standards I do, although not for chocolate. No, FC, the ever elusive Kiger, loves packer pellets. So much so that she now stands at the gate when she sees me coming.

With dry days and Sandy's training load now lighter, I've got time to work all five horses, and Firecracker was disappointed to be in the line up. That is until she discovered apple flavored treats. We don't really do a whole lot when it comes to a work load; she gets haltered and handled and led, then turned loose again. Just the wee little things to help build trust. A few days ago she went for her first walk outside. We crossed the creek and walked through the field behind us, then she was turned out for about 20 minutes down with the sheep. Long rope dragging behind, naturally, so catching was made easier. And that would be class for Firecracker, complete with treats. Don't you wish school had been that simple when you were a kid?

Meanwhile, back in the paddock, Cricket is now sporting a halter. It wasn't easy; I had to use my trusty, long rope to get it on as he's still not sure I ought to touch his face. He doesn't mind his neck, shoulders and chest, but the face is different. Still, he's not inclined to panic and bolt, which is nice.

Most of my energy last week had gone into Cricket and getting him used to me being in his space. With the halter in place, Darling instructed me to, "Start working with my horse." Her horse? Not yet, not officially, but is sure is looking like she and Dude are going to be a pair. Dude is a bit more interested in things around him than Cricket, but he's a bit on the shy side as well. I tossed the rope over his neck and let him get used to it dangling around his legs. He wasn't fond of the feel at first, but settled right down.

Sunday found me working on getting a lead rope on Dude's halter. I used the long rope and managed to fashion one of my oh~so~stylish halters out of it (like I did with FC back in Feb) over the top of the web halter he had on. That gave me a bit more control over his body and eventually he settled down enough for me to slip my hand and the lead rope up to the halter ring.

Later in the day, both Dude and Cricket learned to lead. Dude was simple, just getting him to turn had him moving all four feet and figuring out what was being asked. Cricket, on the other hand, I'm certain knew what was being asked but refused to cooperate. He decided to plant those back feet and nothing was going to budge him. He stretched like Gumby with those front legs, but the hind end never saw forward motion. So out came my handy garden rake of encouragement. With a few taps on the hind end, Cricket decided forward motion was better than no motion, and while it wasn't pretty we did managed to take a few forward steps.

When the evening was through I brought a handful of treats into the paddock. Sandy is housed in the first stall and mauled me as I walked to the new boys. Dude was quite interested in what Sandy was getting and put his nose on my hand and took a good sniff. He seemed not to know how to eat the solid treat, so I stuffed it between his lips and eventually he let it between his teeth. Sure was funny to watch him chomping it down and curling his lip! But he liked it well enough to try a second. Cricket didn't take nearly as much encouragement to try his treat.

I suspect by the end of this week I'll have a whole herd of horses willing to work for treats! At least, that's the plan...

Cricket, Dude, and a busy day!

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have several horses you need to work in one day? I know I've wondered what it would be like, and now I know...it's time consuming!

This morning began with Cricket and Dude. Cricket is halterless, and since I may have an adopter for him (yes, already!) I really want to concentrate on gentling him down. Yesterday I brought my rope out and began tossing it over his back and letting it dangle down on his legs. He didn't mind, so I got it up around his neck and gradually worked myself into a position where I could also loop it over his nose, just like I had with Firecracker, and fashioned a halter.

Although having it touch his head wasn't an issue, he didn't quite get the whole giving to pressure and turning, so after a few tries I gave up on that. He never panicked, but he was obviously frustrated and not figuring it out. Today I left the rope hanging and brought in a long alder sapling with which to rub and scratch his body with. At first he wasn't sure about it, but after 10 minutes he was letting me stand an arms reach from him and was thoroughly enjoying being rubbed under his neck and on his chest. One small step and I'd be able to reach him with my hand...should I try?

Cricket is a sweet boy!

I tried, got my hand on him and walked away quickly and quietly before he had an opportunity to react.

Later in the day I went back and this time I asked for more. A brief touch, then a little rub, but he made me reach out with the sapling first. I'd scratch with the alder, then rub with my hand, then step away and approach again. And it wasn't long before he was enjoying my hand rubbing under his mane and down on his chest. He let me step away and approach without first touching him with the little tree and even began to wiggle his lip and reach towards me. Tomorrow I'll work at getting my hands on his face so that hopefully the halter can be put on and off by the end of the week.

Dude is another story. He's curious, but nervous about things touching him. The rope brought an immediate reaction as he darted out from under it with a snort. He didn't like it bouncing on his body or over his tail. He actually reminds me of Jet, but with less confidence. She also doesn't like things like the rope (or my hands) touching her body, but she's very curious about things and approached us right away. Dude is also curious, but the only one he's approached and sniffed at this point is Darling.

Dude wants to be loved, but is a bit shy.

Since I had the alder in with Cricket, I also used it with Dude. Again, he jumped and shot out from under it, but eventually he came to realize it wouldn't bite as it rested on his back. I tried to rub it on his chest and neck, but he'd have none of that. He seems to by hypersensitive when it comes to touch, but he still perks up his ears and is inquisitive when he sees me.

Sandy has found his snort. Evidently it's been here waiting for him at Carpenter Creek. Darling and I walked down to the sheep and led Sandy along with us. We crossed the creek and Sandy snorted, then splashed and checked to see if there was a bottom before crossing. I rode him yesterday in the round pen, then a little later I used Firecracker as a cow and made him move her around the field a bit.

Jet was ridden today; it was the first time she's been in a snaffle bit and she did great! We even trotted a little, something she was reluctant to do last summer as she thought maybe I'd fall off. I must say I've gained a lot of confidence after spending the last three months with Sandy and the other green horses at Curt's place, and today on Jet things just fell into place.

Firecracker also found herself trotting in circles as I worked her from the ground in the round pen. I need to get her where she's easier to catch and halter. Her one big advancement today was taking a treat from my fingers! Sounds so simple, doesn't it? And yet she hates to let her lips touch my skin. I fed her those packer pellet treats, though, so it was like offering a carrot and she was careful to hold her lips back and take the treat gingerly in her teeth. The one time her lips brushed my fingers she jumped back like she's just received and electric shock!

And that was my day. That, and being eaten by mosquitos.

Wet, But Good

Yesterday was good. Wet, but good. I've done some rearranging out in the paddocks; Firecracker and Jet are sharing the first two stalls and paddock, the one under water. They were always walking into the same stall together anyway, so I figured I might as well put them over there where they'd share a paddock. They've got their own stalls to eat out of, but it never fails I'll find them both standing in one when I go out to feed. Now, don't fret; they're not standing in water. The stalls are high and dry and the paddock gate opens out into the field for them. It's just a bit soggy trying to get there.

With the girls over on the wet side of things, I've been able to open up Sandy's paddock to include Jet's former run. Not a huge amount of room, just 12 more feet, but it's allowing just a bit more space to work in.

The lopsided Spanish Walk is beginning to diminish. It's not gone, but I've been working at taking just one or two steps at a time, then stopping so that he doesn't really get the opportunity to reach out. After doing that a few minutes, we went back to walking across the paddock and he seemed a lot more relaxed. He still struggles getting himself up alongside me, but we did see progress as he did take a few steps with his head at my shoulder.

Our really big step yesterday was setting the saddle on his back. He steps away and wants me at his head at first, and we do a funky little dance for a step or two, but then he stands (tight and ready to flee, no doubt) as I lift it onto his back, then take it back off. I lifted it up twice in the morning, then twice more in the afternoon. The stirrup wasn't hanging down on the off side, however, as I wanted to make it as painless as possible for him. A friend loaned me her wintec English saddle to try out and I think that'll be a nice way to introduce both girth and stirrups.

Darling came out and shot some video, but I haven't seen it yet. While she was there I had her reach out and touch his nose, then ask him to move a step or two. He didn't really lead, but did pivot both left and right for her and didn't freak out at a second, relatively unknown person at the helm. City Boy said he'd go out this afternoon. I'll bring my camera.

My target date for mounting is April 1. I need him to gain some confidence by then =)

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover! http://Desperate-Horsewife.blogspot.com Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

It All Looks Like Too Much Fun!

I stumbled across a website this morning that has me hankering to try some Ranch Horse Versatility. They've got their own association and you don't need to be a registered quarter horse to compete. You get to drag logs and cross bridges and open gates, cut cows, and have a pleasure class that doesn't include rolling a peanut around with your nose. It's called the American Ranch Horse Association, and I think I'm interested in getting a chapter started up here in WA. Any competition that allows for different breeds to be shown against each other with only their ability in mind is one I'm happy to be part of. Of course, the bulk of them are still quarter horses, but they're not circle trotters, right??? And I don't see a single mustang listed, so you know I really need to join!

Sandy and a buddy wait in the corrals to be loaded.

Sandy's day yesterday consisted of being groomed with the rubber curry comb and letting me put a halter on him. Unlike each day up until this point, he never once tried to avoid me walking up to him. He's still worried, he still does his lopsided Spanish Walk, but the no flight when approached is a welcome change. And to be honest, I'm thrilled that we got the halter on and he let both of my hands up alongside his face at the same time to do the buckle. That was a big step for Firecracker as well, and it took her longer. Of course, she was dealing the the whole poll injury, so we'll cut her some slack.



Other than a few random trips out just to be friendly, I left Sandy alone yesterday. I'm trying to muck out Firecracker's side of the paddock, and it's not going so well. With the addition of gravel in Jet and Sandy's paddocks, it's left a low spot where the water collects on FC's side of things, and collect it has. It's about three inches deep, 8 feet long and three feet wide. It's not muddy, it's just wet; the rain water just has no where to drain as the ground is too hard beneath the compact gravel and clay to go anywhere. It's a regular little cement pond, just like the Beverly Hillbillies had. Around the edge of the pond, the clay has begun to work it's way up and combine with the manure that got pelted by heavy rains, making a real mess of things as the water collects. Thankfully Firecracker can be turned out into the pasture or I'd be in a world of hurt. She and Jet spend more time out than in, meaning things should be a wee bit easier come dry weather to clean than if they were cooped up. At least that's what I keep telling myself!

Visit Mustang Fever!
Great gifts under $20, plus wild horse apparel!

February's Progress

Early morning turn out

The month started out so well, didn't it? In fact, it seems like ages ago rather than just a month that I bought that new rope and started getting the halter on and off Firecracker. I printed a calendar for the month and listed all the things I wanted to accomplish with her. And at first, it seemed as though we'd get it all done:

Catching and Haltering
Sheet/blanket on
Pivot
Bridge
Pick up all 4 feet
Lunge
Walk over tarp
Lateral flex
Walk through creek
Flag without spook
Stand tied
Saddle Blanket
Side Pass
Load in horse trailer
Groom entire body
Walk over poles
Saddle Up

But mid month the focus shifted to keeping the pinched nerve and shoulder from getting any worse, and to spreading the new gravel in the paddock. Still, FC has progressed to a point where I'm comfortable having her. She can be caught while turned out as long as I'm offering grain. She'll stand tied (although to be honest, she's not been tied, just the rope looped around the post, but she does stand and wait patiently), and she's picking up all four feet. I've worked on her pivots and she's got some lateral flex (not a lot, but she understands the concept.) Darling has been able to groom her, and while I haven't got a sheet here to put on her, she allows the saddle blanket to be rubbed all over her body, so I suspect that'll be an easy enough step. Basically, she can be handled without endangering anyone, and whinnies and comes to the gate when she sees us. And of course, I've once again thrown the flag off to the corner in bitter disgust. Hey...did you really imagine a relationship could actually develop between me and the flag?

Because of my shoulder and FC's tendency to bolt the first couple times I led her in the pasture, I opted not to take her for any walks outside yet. Naturally, after a few turn outs and some time to stretch her legs, she's settled right down, but I'll wait until I heal up a bit more before risking a runaway in the outside world. Ought to be interesting to see how the shoulder holds up to Sandy, eh?

And in other news...

Don't Shout for Joy Just Yet...
or...
God Is So Good!

Before securing the big four horse trailer, a neighbor had told me I could use his stock trailer to pick Sandy up with. I had access, of course, to the two horse, but really wanted the extra space. But when I went to take a closer look at it, I found it was built for cows; only 6' high. Which led me to the four horse that I showed you the other day.

The owner of the borrowed trailer was needing to use it this weekend. As I was hauling it back to her, I decided to have the brakes looked at. It would never do to be traveling over the Siskiyous and have no brakes to aid in stopping. That's a heavy trailer, after all.

And guess what? No brakes.

That, of course, put me back into the small two horse, which I've been trying to avoid. I know the horse will likely fit into it without any problem (heck, if Jet fits, anything short of a Clydesdale will), but with an overnight stop planned I really wanted to give the horse a bit more room. Plus, I'll need to be reaching a hose in to add water for him (her?) to drink at stops along the way; an added couple of feet makes a huge difference, allowing the horse to turn away and feel just a wee bit safer.

So as I sat there in my truck, hitched up to the brakeless trailer, I pondered my options. Across the road was Brim Tractor. They'd recently added Silver Lite trailers to their inventory. Last fall, long before the Western States Challenge had even been announced, I'd stopped in and been referred to one of the salesmen. Nicely, and with contact information for Silver Lite's area rep, he turned me down. I think he was under the impression I was asking for a trailer, not a loan. I'd stopped in a week ago as well, thinking I'd try one more time. I was directed to the same man, who this time wasn't in, but they left him a message. He returned the call, leaving me his cell phone number, but I knew I wouldn't get anywhere. He was, after all, the salesman.

And yet...and yet...there they were, those lovely silver trailers glistening in the sun right in front of me. I pulled across the street and walked through the doors a third time.

This time I spoke to someone else. This guy said, "Talk to Dan Brim, he's the owner, the one who signs the checks, the one who makes the decisions... His is that office there, the dark one that's empty." He smiled. "Come back tomorrow, he'll be here." And come back I did.

"I haven't got a problem letting you use one, but they're not licensed. If you can figure out a way to make one legal on the street, you can borrow one," he paused a moment. "You know how to make it legal?" Nope, I didn't. He smiled, "Bet you're going to find out, aren't you?" He smiled, as did I. Yes, I would find a way.

As it turns out, what you need are trip permits. I bought two; each good for three consecutive days. This, now, is the trailer I'll be using; a three horse Silver Lite Bandit. Your assignment, now, is to pray that Sandy behaves inside of it so I don't bring it back totally thrashed!

Just four more days before I leave to pick up Sandy!

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover!
http://Desperate-Horsewife.blogspot.com

Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

I was beginning to think I was going to have permanent nerve damage in my fingers, but a stop at the chiropractor today has provided some hope. A week ago today I soaked in a warm...no, make that hot...tub, and when I got out my shoulder hurt like the dickens. I lay on the bed wondering if it would ever feel better, when suddenly I heard a small pop! A huge amount of pressure was relieved and I could actually move my arm without feeling any pain.

However, the lower arm still had something going on, and both my thumb and forefinger were feeling like a pair of fat lips at the dentist office. In other words...numb. Occasionally I could feel the pins and needles tingling, which let me know blood was beginning to circulate, but it was alway followed by severe pain in my forearm. And as it's now been two weeks, when I stopped at the chiropractor today I told him I was beginning to think I'd just have to live with it forever at this point. He told me that since this was originating in the lower arm and not up in the neck (which we'd originally thought), that my fingers would likely recover with no problem, and to just keep stretching that muscle that is so incredibly tight and causing the pain.

So...thats what I'm doing, and I can feel the blood going back into the fingers as I type, but that muscle is not happy :)

Enough about fingers, though. Today I went back down to Curt's and had my second 'colt starting' lesson in anticipation of the upcoming Mustang Challenge. My body isn't nearly as sore as it was two weeks ago. After a 15 year break in any real riding my muscles had gone into shock once I was off the horse. But a day or two later I was feeling fine, and today it was as though I'd never stepped out of the saddle. I sat deep, my legs stayed where they were supposed to, and my body stuck with the rhythm of the horse. We worked on stops (I need to learn to stop a colt rather than a pleasure horse), turns, and then...well...

Curt pulled out the Hyrda Bull!

Now, that's not me up on that horse there, but rather a photo I took this summer of someone else lessoning down there with him. But doesn't it look like fun? I've wondered if I'd ever get to chase that bull of his, and all I can say is What A Blast! No more rail horses for me, I'm afraid. Trotting in circles is a thing of the past. I wanna chase me some cows! Or fiberglass bulls...

JoJo is helping me learn to ride. Not a mustang, but a very talented young mare; a perfect training tool for me because she knows how to do things if I ask correctly. But she's still green and hot enough to give me a work out similar to what I'll be facing with my Mustang Challenge horse.

The days have been so nice here that when I came home, I went out to catch up Firecracker. Darling was just climbing off the bus, so she came out to watch. Up until now it's been just me out there with FC. But with the longer days upon us, and sunshine to boot, Darling's been hanging out at the rail. FC's not so sure about having an audience, but today she had to get over it as I left her in Darling's capable hands for grooming.

Do you think she's enjoying it? I do! Unlike Jet, FC loves to be groomed. Her fear level is diminishing a little each day. I've been able to pick up all four feet, saddle her, walk behind her, and she's even standing tied at the rail. There's a lot left for her to learn, but it's been nice to make such headway.

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover!

http://Desperate-Horsewife.blogspot.com

Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

Cowgirl Up!

Okay, maybe not quite yet. But soon.

Firecracker didn't mind in the least having the saddle tightened up around her belly. She was more concerned with the stirrup sliding across her back, but no bolting out from under it like last time.

I've managed to somehow pinch a nerve in my shoulder and it hurts like mad. No cleaning, no training; nothing but tossing hay in the past couple of days. As you can see by the footing, we've had a great deal more rain and things were a wet mess. Late in the day, however, the clouds parted and today there was blue sky and sunshine! So it was back to work for both FC and myself.

I must say I was really pleased with her acceptance of the cinch. Hopefully the worst of the winter rains are over and we'll be able to dry out some. I'm also going to order gravel this week to build it up a bit in there. Hooray! Perhaps that will help keep things a wee bit drier in there?

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover!
http://Desperate-Horsewife.blogspot.com

Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

She LOVES Me!

Doesn't this face just have love written all over it? If you're a clever reader, you'll realize this photo has the old halter on, though, and is from Firecracker's earlier days here. Not that it matters, I still get that look.

I recently attended a Ken McNabb colt starting clinic and was reminded of this lovely shot of FC when he told us, "My mom always used to say we could call her whatever name we wanted as long as she never heard it come out our mouth." Pretty much sums it up for the attitude here. Dirty looks are one thing, but I'd better not ever see those teeth coming at me!


In the rain yesterday, I dutifully went outside, put the halter on Miss Love Bug here, and then followed up with the saddle blanket. Barely any reaction at all. Well...barely any for her, that is. She still had a look of concern, but allowed me to approach without climbing the round pen rails. Major improvement over the day before. I pulled it off, put it on, pulled it off, put it on, then reached over the back to pat the opposite side and rub on her barrel. All this was done with her ears twitching nervously and her teeth clenched. But she didn't bolt out from under it, so I went on to phase two... Or by now, perhaps it's phase 22?

The saddle has been sitting on the rail of her stall for two months. Of course, so was the blanket, and we know how well she accepted that. I wasn't sure what she'd say to me carrying the saddle up to her, but she stood (relatively) still, a bit of a tremble, but not darting out away from me. She let me rub it on her shoulder, barrel, then lift it over her back. She wasn't happy about the entire situation and showed just how uncomfortable she was with it when I crossed to the left side, as she swung herself around as quickly as she could, leaving the saddle suspended in air only briefly before it came crashing down into the mud.

Saddles eat Mustangs, you know.

Attempt #2 went smoother. She again stood relatively still and allowed me to place the scary thing up onto her back. I crossed to the other side with no problems this time and rocked the saddle back and forth. Tense, but no bolt. I led her a few steps forward so I could grab my camera and got yet another "I love you this much" photo.

And I might add...have you noticed the pepto pink is gone? Hey, it stayed up until this morning, officially Valentine's Day. But like most of you, I just couldn't stand it anymore! Happy Valentine's Day, everyone, and hopefully your ponies will offer you the same love FC offers me. Okay, maybe a bit more :)

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover!
http://Desperate-Horsewife.blogspot.com

Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

Please Excuse the Pink

I know, it's Pepto Pink. Gross. Disgusting. And totally not me. But heck, Valentine's Day is only a day or two away, so I figured I'd toss up something remotely in honor of it. Time will tell if I get sick of looking at it before then.


The rain just doesn't seem to want to stop. Up until now, we've had three or four days of rain, then a day or two where it's dry, and the paddocks get just a bit of relief as the water manages to make it's way into the ground.

But not recently. I think it's rained for over a week straight now. My ground is packed down so solid that the water has no where to go, so sits on top where the horses (and Pokey the ram) slosh through it.

Despite this, I've been faithfully going out and working with Firecracker. Not gobs of time, but enough to at least get a halter on her, give her something good to eat, and take it off a couple of hours later. On Sunday she pulled a new one and gave me a hug. I was facing her, trying to get her to drop her nose and let the nose band slip over her muzzle. This is what she hates the most, and to avoid it she swung her jaw up onto my shoulder, pushing her cheek into mine. Our eyes were a mere two inches apart. And she wasn't ready to move, letting me rub on her cheeks and talk softly to her. Complete aversion to having the halter slipped on, of course, but I'll take all the close contact I can get, so let her hug for several minutes. It was nice while it lasted, but we had work to do.

Although I'm still having to push her a bit around the paddock, I'm finding that getting the halter slipped on becomes easier each time. Now if I could only get her to relax when it comes off instead of shooting backwards like a confused bottle rocket.

One thing that's been added to her daily routine this past few days is letting the lead rope drop over her back and bounce about on the off side. From there, I reach underneath and grab it, pulling it up like a cinch. No problems in this area! Front and back cinches shouldn't make this girl flinch as she could care less about anything rubbing or bouncing about under her belly.



Today we stepped it up a notch and pulled out the saddle blanket. It's been over a week since our scary flag bag incident and I've not gone back to her with the rake or anything else since then, letting her instead just relax and do nothing more than trust me with the halter.


The blanket was received just as well as the mustang eating sock. Her eyes bugged out like she'd never seen that blanket hanging three feet from her feeder all these weeks. After a bit of my flinging it about and slapping against my leg as she followed me around the paddock, I decided to have her step in for a closer look. This is where the time spent doing nothing more than 'hugging' has paid off. For comfort, she looked to me, putting her nose in my face, blowing on me, then finally reaching down to see that the blanket indeed was nothing to fear. Trembling just a bit, she let me then reach it out and rub her wet body with it from both sides before allowing it to straddle her back. Amazingly, it never took even one little nibble.

Sponsor me in the Mustang Makeover!
Desperate Horsewife

Please notice that I've got some links up to folks who've sponsored me! Join the Hay Burner's Club and donate $15 towards Sandy's upkeep and I'll send you a 5x7 photo (once the horse is here, of course.) Or buy advertising space in the form of a button.

Baby Got Buck?

Oh, I hope to say so!

This girl has some serious athletic ability. Didn't take as long to get the halter on this afternoon as it did yesterday. Went relatively smooth, considering she'd rather I not touch her face. Biggest challenge, as always, is handling her near her poll. But we've gotten that figured out and are trying to lessen the stress of it all each day. Tying the knot on the side is another challenge since she can see my hands both there alongside her eye, but she's figured out that I'm not leaving until it's finished.

Because she let me get the halter on quickly, and because she did some light lateral flexation and picked up her front feet so readily (back ones, too, with the rope aid), I decided to bring out my handy little rake again. This is the first time I've had it out in over a week due to the snow and ice. It wasn't just the rake, however, as I decided to tie a plastic bag to it this time.

At first, it was nothing more than it'd ever been. Oh, sure, a bit frightening, but the rake bounced on her hip as she trotted a couple of almost frantic circles, then when she stopped it stopped too, and a moment later I began to scratch her with it. Normally the scratching is accepted, but this time the scratching wiggled that bag, so off we went again, only not so worried this time. We got to the point of it being okay to scratch the hip, down the dock of her tail, and back up to her lower back area. But once we reached the withers it was a few more laps.

Now, mind you, while working on her feet and flexing, I'd stood with my side pressed right up against her and my arm over her back scratching the opposite side of her body. This is something Sunny had the hardest time accepting. Firecracker, however, is a mirror of Sunny in terms of what is and isn't acceptable. Sunny liked having her ears and poll scratched, FC does not. Sunny didn't mind the rake with a flag all over her body. Firecracker, however, turned into a PRCA bareback contender once she realized that bit of white plastic had crossed the centerline.

Man, oh, man...that girl is quick! We've got a lot of work ahead of us if we're going to get that saddle on her back this spring...let alone me, lol!

Head Way! (Literally...)

Yesterday we made progress. The long rope was left aside and I spent about 30 minutes keeping Firecracker calm while I eased my way into her space, close enough to get the halter over her neck and onto her nose. Once it was there, I held it in place for a minute, then released her. Her eyes were wide and she let me know the mustang eating halter was not appreciated, but she survived the ordeal.

Today she wanted nothing to do with either the halter or me, so it was back to the long rope, working in circles and coming to the realization that the halter wasn't such a bad idea after all. Took longer than yesterday to convince her of this, but once she made up her mind that this was the easy way out, I was allowed to slip the halter over her nose and even tie it closed up near her eye without any objections.

Do you like the padding I added to it? It's a wool scarf that I'd had sitting around; I felted it over the top of the rope for added padding over the poll injury. And here's a spot of good news; there appears to be no scarring, the old hair if falling out in chunks and there's new hair growing in. That's right, she let me run my fingers up there just long enough to pull up the loose hair and see the soft new fuzz filling in what ought to have been bald and scarred. Hooray!

To celebrate the halter getting on, I didn't bother to do anything else. I brought some hay in for her to munch on; she shared it with Bessie, who's in the stall next to her. Firecracker is really sweet with the sheep. Jet gets bossy, but Firecracker backs down if they get pushy around food.

I left the halter on so she'd get accustomed to the feel of it moving around on her nose for a couple of hours. It's about to come off now that it's dinner time. I'm really happy with today's progress, even though it didn't go as smoothly as originally planned. I'd hoped after yesterday, today would be a snap. Nothing ever seems to work that way though, does it? But it's on and she let me touch the poll; I'm calling that a good day!

She Wiggled Her Lip!

She wiggled her lip!

Shout it from the roof tops of every barn in the nation! Firecracker wiggled her lip!

No secrets told here; Firecracker is tight lipped!
Go ahead and click it for a little added fun!

Okay, you may not understand just how big a deal this is. Aside from the issue with her poll, Firecracker gets all tight whenever I'm out there and she's asked to do something. She's like a kid who purses their lips when the teacher hands out tests. In fact, she was so tight, and that top lip of hers was pushed down so far that for a good long time I wondered if she were parrot mouthed. But a few photos when she was relaxed showed that wasn't the case.

Today, despite the fact that the red rope halter was obviously going to eat her, she managed to relax and wiggle that lip!

With the snow melting away, I decided I would really push for some improvement today. I want to get this halter onto FC's head. She has other ideas. While on her left side, she tries to push me out of the way with her shoulder. When on the right, she flies backwards to avoid me. I swear I was so dizzy at one point as she was circling me, I thought I was at Disneyland.

The long rope can be slipped over her nose with little trouble at this point. But change what's in my hands to a red halter and she's convinced it's going to eat her face. I told her flat out, however, that we were going to at least get the noseband over those nostrils before I left, and indeed we did.

Which is when she wiggled her lip. She smelled the halter, and actually almost wrapped her lip around it! This was the first time she'd relaxed enough to be mildly inquisitive about something, and I was thrilled. Even while avoiding the halter, she was coming back to me today and looking for reassurance by smelling my face and letting me blow in her nose or kiss her muzzle. She's not an affectionate horse, so I took this as a great sign of trust...finally!

We'll get that red halter on yet...and she'll look so smashing! Then it'll be on to the saddle blanket....

Blessings

Are your daylight hours increasing? I know I can sure feel a difference in my energy level this week! I'm so happy to be able to actually see what I'm doing out there at 4:30 in the afternoon. I feel like I'm crawling out of my winter funk and have a new outlook on life. Seems to happen about this time each year. Not a full blown winter depression, but certainly I tend to want to hibernate. But now...spring is coming! I can feel it, despite the snow and ice.

I talked my friend Curt into giving me lessons. He doesn't really have any lesson horses down there, said he only had a couple of young ones. I laughed. Couldn't be any wilder than what I've got at home, right? He had to admit that was true. It's been a number of years since I've shown competitively, and if I get into the makeover I want to be able to give my horse every opportunity to succeed, so lessons to get me back into shape are a must.

I used to lesson with Curt's wife, but as she's retired he's filled up the arena time with his cutting and reined cow horse lessons. I need to give him a call to see when we can arrange a time for me to come down. I'm excited! Think he'll let me chase that bull?

My friend Nancy has said I can use her trailer, so once this snow and ice get cleared up, I'll head over to make sure my truck likes her trailer. Lighting and brakes, you know. The first goal will be to get Jet in and out of it a few times, then head down to the trail for some rides. My neighbor has been wanting to ride. We'll see if she meant in the winter, eh?

Do you believe things come in threes? The neighbor's have a covered arena. They said I could haul down and ride whenever I wanted. Yipee! Not only can I get the horses out on the trails, I'll be able to have some close by arena time in between lessons with Curt.

These are three huge areas of relief for me, not only because they're necessities if I get into the competition, but they'll go a long way in getting both Jet and FC moving forward in their training.

Speaking of FC, I've been reading up on poll trauma. Seems it takes some horses a long time to overcome the fear/sensitivity issues. She did well today, however, in letting me rub both sides of her face on the cheeks. Started out a bit dicey, but when I went out a second time today, she stood for it really well. With the snow rapidly melting right now, I'll be able to move forward once more and step up the sacking out process.

Back to Business

Now that all that nasty virus business has been taken care of, it's back to the corral.


Firecracker has been doing quite well with the rope. I can toss it onto her back, she doesn't care about it being wrapped around her legs. She picks up her front feet easily when I ask, and I can pick up the backs with the rope.

The haltering process is coming along. Where it once took 30 minutes, it now takes less than three, and it's done on the first attempt. She's becoming accustomed to my hands near her nose and doesn't mind (or at least tolerates) the rope running over the top of her neck. Things are coming together. Which means it's time to introduce my second favorite tool; the rake.

The only thing I don't like about my rake is the short handle. I'd like at least two more feet, to make it a 6' rather than four. But it does what I need it to do, which is get inside the bubble.

In the photo, I had a small flag attached. That was for Sunny, you may recall. Now that several months have gone by, the bulk of that flag has torn off. That's fine. Firecracker is getting used to something that's bigger than the rope and not my hand reaching over to her body. With the rope halter on, I can keep her body close enough that the rake can sit on her as she moves in circles around me. I got dizzy the first time, but she settled right down. As a reward when she stopped, the rake acts like a back scratch, something the horses love.

While most of the flag is missing, the little string is still there. Once FC figured out the rake wouldn't eat her, I attached an old sock. Yeah...well...it's like this: I'd brought out a soft rope halter and because of the head thing, I wanted some padding to protect the poll. I felted some wool over it, then put the sock over that. I then hung it on the rail where FC could see it. She took off the sock. So while out there with the rake, I saw the sock and decided to tie it to the string. Fireworks ensued as the mustang eating sock tried to touch her body. Evidently she'd forgotten that she'd been trying to eat the sock just hours earlier. Naturally, a few laps around the pen convinced her it was easier to just stand and let the sock run across her back than to race in small circles.

Unfortunately, we've had freezing rain now and the paddock is slick as can be, so no working horses until things thaw out a bit. Not wanting to lose too much ground, I did make her stand for the rope fashioned halter. I'm trying to work her to the point of relaxing enough to get the real halter on. Hopefully that won't be long.

The weather here has been spectacular of late. Cold, but beautiful. The photo above is the Nooksack River with the Twin Sisters behind. The Sisters are part of the Cascade Mt Range. More importantly, they're the daughters of Mt. Baker. The old Indian legend is that the Sisters had suitors who came and asked for their hands in marriage, but Kulshan, (now known as Mt. Baker) refused. Heartbroken, the twins ran away and now live separate from their father as opposed to under his shadow like they had before.

I know...what has this to do with mustangs? Not much, except that I've got a crazy bee in my bonnet, and it involves this river. I'd really like to start riding this summer and training for a long ride next year. City Boy isn't so keen on the idea, so I'm not sure if it'll actually happen or not, but the ride planned would take several weeks and cover approximately 600 miles in Eastern Oregon. I may have to modify my plans and only ride through the southeast portion of the state, though. I'd love to go through the herd management areas and try to get some photos of the horses in the wild.

Again...what has this to do with the above photos? Well, I've got to train for the long ride, and that will mean lots of miles and wet saddle blankets. And I'm not just talking about sweat here. I want to be able to cross that river!

Darling is totally on board with this whole idea, although I think she's in for a rude awakening when it comes to hours in the saddle. She's used to small rides around here, not day long treks. However, she's got an adventuresome spirit and if she's willing to give it her best shot this summer without complaining, then we'll see what we can do about a long trek next year.

Of course, all this will mean getting Firecracker ready for her to ride by summer. The progress has increased tremendously now that we've got the head under control. While I can't really see the wound on her poll, I was able to run my fingers up rather close and it appears to be pretty well healed over. Just need to pray for no major scar tissue.

As you can see from this photo, she's not thrilled with the rope around the nose, but she's adjusting. We've gone from it taking 30 minutes to pushing once around the pen and then standing patiently. A huge improvement. Still a bit worried about the poll, but she's so much better now that she's realized no one is going to eat her.

And with that, it's time to head out and see how she'll react to my second favorite tool, that short little rake that isn't quite a flag, but surely does make them look twice before they realize just how wonderful it feels to be scratched with it.