A Good Day in the Saddle

Twas a fabulous day of riding for this Desperate Horsewife!  But before I tell you about it, I need to introduce you to someone.

Meet Lucy.  She's a four year old strawberry roan mare from Warm Springs HMA.  For those of you who've been around here awhile, you'll remember Jet, the tall black mare that we had; she was also from Warm Springs.  

I first met Lucy when she was a two year old at the Wild Horse Corrals in Oregon.  She was a very striking young mare who'd foaled out a very cute red dun filly.  Yes, two years old and having babies...such is life in the world of wild!  Lucy would stay at the corrals until spring of her three year old year, when she was adopted by a gal in Southern Oregon.

Last fall, Lucy's adopter decided that the mare didn't quite meet her needs, and she started looking for a new home.  She asked if I would take Lucy here.  I'd just committed to taking Flirt, but...well...okay.  Twist my arm!  Besides, a friend of mine had really liked Lucy at the corrals and she was thinking it may be that Lucy would make her a nice trail horse.

Flash forward, and my friend has had rotator cuff surgery and isn't sure she can ride anything other than a dead broke horse right now.  She asked if I'd take Lucy for a couple of weeks for a refresher course (Lucy had been ridden out on the trails before being sent up to us.)  Of course I was more than happy to do that for my friend.  

Sometimes life surprises us.  Lucy is one of those surprises.  She's got just enough 'feel good' in her to not really make her suitable for plunking down a trail without a care...at least not right now.  What she has got, bless her long backed soul, is a solid, get your butt underneath you stop and a pretty decent turn around.  And you know what that means, don't you???

I brought Lucy down to the Cowboy's so he could meet her.  I asked if he'd take a look and tell me what he thought.  I think he didn't think much, but he humored me.  "Take her home and ride her, get her a little better broke.  You need to have a little better control of her rib cage before we try to work you."

Okay.  I can do that.  And we did.  We worked 5 out of 6 days, stopping, backing, turning.  I'd do leg yields around the round pen, stopping and turning and going the other way.  Always in my mind was 'keep her eye on the cow', a phrase I'd heard often enough while working Kitty.  I pretended the round pen rail was the cow and kept Lucy's body supple and her nose toward our imaginary adversary.

This morning I hauled Lucy back to the Cowboy's arena.  I saddled and warmed her up.  He'd gone into the house, and I figured he didn't think we'd be ready to work.  But I was.  And so was Lucy.  Or at least I hoped so!  I tied up her reins on the saddle horn, leaving her in the arena while I went and knocked on the door.  I was back in the saddle by the time he reached the arena.

Lucy and I began by doing some dry work along the wall, trotting down the rail, stopping, 'loading up' (which is what we call rocking back over the hocks), and turning.  The Cowboy gave pointers, calling to me to 'get her ribcage', and after a few turns, he asked if I wanted to work the bull.  

Hello?  YES!!!

And we did.  Lucy was a gem.  She didn't really know that she was supposed to read the bull and do it on her own; none of them really does to start.  But she tracked it well, keeping up with it, stopping and turning and moving that rib cage.  When we were done, the Cowboy was wearing a smile.

"That surprise you a bit?"

I paused, then replied, "A little."

"A little?  Surprised me a whole lot!"  His smile was genuine as he climbed out of his bull.  "I didn't expect that.  You did a good job."  And when he left the arena, the Cowboy wasn't the only one wearing a smile.

Last Year's Swim Suit

On Sunday Lady of Chaos came along with her husband and daughter, Kissy, to look at Jet. They decided they liked her (well...who wouldn't?) and left me with a down payment and a size 72 sheet for one of the geldings. Both Dude and Sandy were getting a wee but muddy from their mid day naps out in the wet clay and I was thrilled that LOC had an extra. Being as the sheet was blue, Darling immediately snagged it for her red pony.

"He looks like a woman in last year's swim suit!!"

"Come on, mom...do I have to wear this???"

Indeed, Dude Lee Do Right has not missed many meals, and Darling's observation was quite astute. The sheet was amply filled out, to say the least, and Dude didn't look too happy about squeezing into a size too small. His belly was bulging and his hiney was hanging out the back. This boy may not be overly tall, but he's making up for it in his tank-like physique. And so the sheet was removed and placed onto Sandy...where it became apparent that he, too, hasn't been late to the dinner table of late. Still, it was a better fit than Dude, so he's still got it on in an effort to help reduce dried clay on his long winter coat.

Dude is just about as happy with a saddle as he was his blanket!

I have Steve Holt! a couple of days off, which turned out to be a mistake. When I went out on Tuesday he was back to week one and didn't want me to catch him. He was easy enough to get the blanket off, but when it came time to put something around his neck or on his head, he began his mad dash around the pen in an effort to find a way out. Thankfully, this time I had all gates secure!

I stood in the center of his pen, keeping my back to him as he circled around, trying not to put any additional pressure on him. He was on high alert, though, and crashed from one end to the other, not caring if I was looking or not. After a few minutes I went for my long rope and tossed it across his back, which to his mind meant he was captured. From then on out it was business as usual.

What I should have done is spent at least one of those days doing nothing but haltering and unhaltering, and maybe taking him out to graze. I'm really struggling with this face thing of his. I've run my fingers up inside his mouth in search of teeth or sharp edges that might be interfering with his bit, but the bottom line is he's always had a thing about touching his head. This is the kind of horse who, if you didn't know he came from the wild like this, you'd suspect someone had been smacking him upside the head. Working with mustangs has sure changed how I look at domestic horses with issues...they're not always man made, even though we'd like to blame the former owner for behavior problems. Some horses just are super reactive or protective and it takes time to get over it. And some...well...some just never do. Hopefully this is something Steve Holt! will get over, because he's too dang tall to reach his head when he lifts it up.

Despite our head games, Steve Holt! is working under saddle well. I'm beginning to wonder, though, if his trot may not be part of my neck/shoulder/head pain as it increases with each slam of the hoof to the ground. It's odd, really, how a trot that looks so lofty and full of air can slam you so hard. Or perhaps it's just in my heightened state of pain that I notice it more?

A quick pic

Froglander came by today to watch me work with Steve Holt! and I asked her to grab my camera for a quick photo shoot. I didn't realize just how tall this boy was until I saw the picture!

My headache refuses to leave. The past couple of days it has subsided with the help of pain killers (something I rarely take), but today it had no intention of leaving. My neck is stiff and shoulders sore. I think it's from trying to clean all that wet manure out of the paddock. It's a never ending job as the horses refuse to leave their stalls or paddock, even though the gate is open to the pasture. Bad enough they didn't go out in the snow, but still? Sigh...(and that sigh is not the good kind like Steve Holt! is now doing!)

I was at the chiropractor today and have a massage scheduled for Monday. Hopefully I'll get some relief soon. Tomorrow morning is my lesson with Curt, and on Sunday? Well...

Earlier this week I came to the decision that I needed to sell a horse. So I put Jet up on the mustang forum. Lady of Chaos responded instantly that she and her husband were interested, so they're coming on Sunday for a visit. It will be difficult to part with my girl, but she does not fit into my goals, which include getting back into the show ring. She's a trail/dressage horse and not a cutting or reining prospect (which I'm dearly wanting to try), and certainly not western pleasure material. Darling's infatuation with Dressage was short lived and she's now enjoying Sandy. And I must admit there's just a tinkling of desire to find a way to keep Steve Holt!... Even if I don't end up keeping him, I'm forever drawn to starting new horses, and the extra space will be needed for my ever revolving mustang door.

Darling is working on editing the video clips from Thursday. I, however, am too tired to wait. Off to bed with me! Y'all have a good weekend and I hope to see you back for our week six update this weekend.

Oh...the Weather Outside is...

Confused.

Up on the hill, a wee dusting of snow. Down here in my paddock, rain (resulting in mud.) When the clouds parted this evening the sky was flame red out beyond the end of the valley.

Thankfully, we had a few nice days earlier this week. Thursday I rode Jet the mile down to the arena, working her on a loose rein, walking and trotting while staying relaxed. I'm wondering if the light contact on the bit the other day was getting to her. She's sensitive about things like that, and too much contact can cause rearing in a horse like her; we already know she's prone to throwing herself up into the air. So that was the goal on Thursday; stay relaxed and confident in the saddle, and hope that would translate into a relaxed and confident horse.

It worked. There was a time or two when I could feel her tense up and try to push her way out of a circle, but I dropped the outside rein completely and just feathered the inside enough to tip her nose in the direction I wanted to go, and she followed.

After a nice ride inside, we headed home. Rather than our usual route, we turned the other direction and headed further down the road, then up and around the block. A country block, that is. She'd never been out that way and in true Jet fashion, she stepped right out like the curious explorer she is. We returned home 2 hours after we'd left, ears up and relaxed. It was a very nice ride, one I hope we can build on.

8 Second Ride

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...

Dancing Penguin

It has come to the attention of Jet that there is a horse out there by the name of Cholla who paints. Jet considered this for a moment, then requested I purchase her canvases, oils and brushes, plus a little beret for good measure.

I explained to her that a beret would not sit atop her head easily and may fall into her paints, and that I really didn't think that oils were the best place to start. She insisted that all the great masters painted in oils, but I stuck to my guns. She grumbled, but decided it was better than nothing.

Jet has discovered that holding a paint brush between one's teeth is not an easy thing to do, so she requested my help. She asked me to balance the paint brush while she moved it around with her tongue and applied paint to the water color paper. The end result?

Dancing Penguin!

If the weather clears up a bit later this week I'll see if she wants to paint another. I'm going to ask if she'll donate them to my fund raising drive for the Northwest Extreme Mustang Makeover.

Where does one market horse art?

Saddle Up, Mate!

I've been in contact with a gentleman named Rick from Huckleberry Stables in MO. He'd spotted a post of mine somewhere along the line bemoaning my saddle fitting woes and offered to help. He deals with Timberline Saddles, which from what I gather are pretty top notch. And I wasn't gathering that just from Rick, but others who have known Timberline. Rick tells me these guys are the old, original Orthoflex folks who got together and wanted to keep that great saddle going.

Rick has asked for photos of Sandy so he can identify what the problem might be. He's sent me a pad for him at no charge and is keeping his eye out for a used saddle that is inside of my beer budget. I think I really like Rick. Not only did he go out of his way when I'd never even contacted him, not only has he spent countless hours emailing and answering my often ridiculous questions, but he's sending me a pad! Or did I mention that last part already? I think it's just grand, really I do. I love when people are so willing to help out others that they don't even know. And you know I'm not about to let that kindness slip through the cracks, so y'all are hereby ordered to send Rick a thank you note on behalf of me and Sandy :) Here's his email for you! hucklebe AT olemac.net Of course you'll need to replace that AT with an @, but I'm sure you knew that already.

While I'm waiting on my pad to arrive and for a test drive in one of those super sweet Timberlines, I've been out and about testing countless saddles without a whole lot of luck. The ones that were for sale did not fit...the ones I tried on that fit were not for sale. Life is not looking good in terms of saddles. But I did come across an older Aussie which, despite being a bit beat up, seems to do the job.

At least...it does the job on Sandy. On Jet it leaves a wee bit to be desired. But again, super customer service from yet another saddle distributor, Kate's Saddle Supply. I'd emailed, again moaning and groaning, that I had no clue how this saddle was supposed to sit on my horse. I'd read it should sit farther forward than a western saddle, but that was so not what was happening. A kind man by the name of Tim was right on top of things and phoned the following morning offering to help. Heck...I'd only suggested they put photos online for people like me who need that visual aid. No way did I think they were going to call and start talking me through this on a cheap, beat up saddle I'd bought off Craigslist!

But they did. Or rather, Tim did. And it was wonderful! He asked me to send photos so he could see what was going on, and then he sent some back showing how level it ought to be and where it should fit. He suggested getting something to bump up the front of the saddle while riding Jet, even a terry cloth towel (how nice not to have him push sales) ought to do the trick. He recognized the saddle brand and model, said it was one of the economy saddles and that the padding often worked it's way to the back which then shifted the weight up to the horse's wither. And that's exactly what happens on Jet.

Oh, and in the picture? It's sitting too far forward. And not to worry, he says, when it slides back while riding as it will undoubtedly settle in the right place to stay out of the way of her shoulders. Just as long as it's not sitting on her loins, which it didn't when I rode her in it the other day.

So although I've not found the perfect saddle quite yet, I'm happy with this little Aussie, mates, and will be riding my Brumby up into the hills while whistling the tune to Snowy River. (No, not really, as I can't whistle! But I'll be humming it off key...)

Heart Rates and Trail Rides

Last weekend saw Jet on the trail for the first time in a month. A friend called on Saturday, excited because she'd just picked up a new horse trailer and she wanted to go for a ride. With Jet's galls healed up, I decided it was a perfect opportunity to get her back in gear. Darling rode Sandy, which was good because Jet did try to pull a few punches along the way. Thankfully, no rearing was involved and she did seem to enjoy herself.

Sandy was pokey, and he did sweat, but as usual he perked up when on the level, and coming down the hills Darling let him move out and trot to his heart's content. This was only the second time she'd been out on him, and the first time she'd done any trotting. She was amazed at how smooth he was and took advantage of every opportunity.

Earlier in the week I hauled Sandy up north a bit to a lovely little park which has trails that are level and easy to navigate. Since the vet clinic is on the way, I stopped to ask about heart rates. How high can a horse's heart go? Is 72 high? Or low? What about dropping back to resting rate?

I'd been concerned, as you may recall, that he wasn't recovering fast enough. Finding information online was difficult because he's doing a lot of climbing rather than speed work. The vet who was in the office put my mind to ease. Horses who are doing speed work can get their hearts going to 150-180! Endurance riders with very fit horses like to see their hearts back to 60 in four minutes.


Say what? 60? Not resting? No...not resting rate. And what's more, if you get down to 60 in ten minutes it's good for the average horse.

While up on the hills the other day I pushed him a bit more, making him walk out, and finally got him up to 80. He was back to 60 within 3 minutes the first time, but the second time he insisted something was out there and I could hear his heart elevating. Sure enough, a minute later a hiker came out of the trees with his two dogs. On the way home I found a nice stretch with a slight incline and asked for a brisk lope. When I climbed off the heart was going faster than I was prepared to count; this time it was down to 72 in one minute and in four back into the low 60s. So Sandy's ticker is good. I am now, however, obsessed with the whole heart rate thing!

The trail through the park was so lovely and made for a quick ride, so I brought Darling up the next day. She took the camera and I rode Jet so that you could be happy with a picture of us.

Jet did a lot of long trotting; she out trots Sandy's lope. Neither horse really broke much of a sweat, which was nice, and they were both at a resting rate (see, I am obsessed) when we got back to the trailer.

With Sandy on Hold...

...Jet has found herself under saddle a bit more frequently than she'd like.

This past week the sun has been out and it's been too pretty to just hang out at the round pen, so I've been saddling Jet up and heading up the trail. This was working well until I got it in my mind to travel to Ogallala one day.

Really, I had no clue where Ogallala might be until I mentioned it to others who were quite taken aback that I could ask such a thing. Seems I missed out on a lot by not watching Lonesome Dove...Be that as it may, the likelihood of actually making it 1450 miles to Nebraska (which, for those of you who are as clueless as me, is where Ogallala is...) was pretty slim. Jet wasn't really certain she wanted to go to Ogallala. Her nerves were getting the better of her, but she trudged along fairly well for the most part. Through big trees, tall ferns and even over a scary wood bridge.

But eventually she was done. And I mean done! We started up the face of the mountain (still in the trees) and as it became narrower, she became grouchier and touchier than she'd ever been. Upon finding a place with room to head back for home, she gladly threw her body around and raced down the hill at a break-neck trot. Had me worried, she did, as there was little reasoning with her once those nerves took over. I must admit I lost a bit of horsemanship with her that day and when we got to the bottom in one piece I decided to head her straight back up that hill, at least the lower level. She, however, had other ideas and a small battle ensued where she reared and I hung on, then turned her back again and encountered yet another protest. But she met with my heels and took off briskly up the lower portion of the hill, and this time when we turned around it was to walk down.

She was thankful for the hitching post we found down below as it offered her an opportunity to stand and catch her breath as I took her picture and answered my cell phone to chat with someone who's interested in adopting a horse. I must admit I nearly sold them Miss Alpo at that moment, but instead talked about Joe. When I climbed back on Jet, she was still edgy and nervous about our long ride in unfamiliar territory, which made for an interesting ride home.

The following day I opted to head up the old familiar trail, but again she decided to challenge me. This time there was nothing nervous in it, just a three year old tantrum at the top of a steep hill, which I so did not need. More loss of horsemanship skills as I behaved like I've not behaved with a horse since I was 12. I dismounted this time as we weren't in a location which offered me much choice; I gave her a good smack with the end of the reins and stomped up the rest of the hill of foot, fuming with each thud of the boots, and when I climbed back on board she was forced to put it into high gear straight away.

By the time we made it back down to the foot of the hill she and I were back on good terms. However, I noticed the next morning that she had some galling from the cinch which undoubtedly contributed to her cranky behavior the past two rides.

So now I've got two horses on bed rest. Sandy's eye is healing up, but his pupil is still quite dilated which makes it impossible to head out on these sunny days. I've had him out on a couple of short (very short) evening jaunts of five or ten minutes just so he can start tuning up again for when he's ready. Jet will have to wait until I can afford a sheepskin cinch, as both the string cinch and felt have irritated her sensitive skin.

Hey, Dude...wanna go for a ride?

Who's Who's Horse?

Otterkat left a comment recently about being confuddled around here regarding who's horse was who's. As in, at one time Darling and I talked about trading Firecracker for Jet, and Jet would belong to Darling. Otterkat also recalled that it was Darling who'd decided that Quiet Storm was too small and she needed a taller horse.

Congratulations, Otter, for paying attention! Gold star to you, girl!

Quiet Storm learns to carry a bit

Yes, Darling had decided to pass QS along, but it was impulse shopping while in Burns that spurred her into that decision. For a solid month afterwards she moped and cried about selling her best friend. She'd break out in tears walking through the mall and climb out of bed in the mornings and come sit in my lap and shed more tears. I had a lot of wet shoulders. That little horse meant a lot to her, and they were best friends. She hadn't known that QS was going to be at the adoption, I'd not told her in advance. Perhaps I should have, just to get her heart prepared.

Thing is...I'm finding my heart being wrenched around now, too, since she's come back into our lives. There's something terribly special about that little horse and I'm struggling just as much as Darling.

Darling's boy, Dude Lee Doright

As for Jet...Darling enjoys her immensely, especially now that she's able to be ridden a bit more, but a few days after the 'trade' she said she didn't really know if it's what she wanted to do. Then she picked out Dude while we were in Pasco last month, so that is her true horse.

City Boy enjoys Jet, too, and has staked a claim. Of course, we told him it was his horse when we drove into the driveway with her last year. What a super gift, eh? Not all wives and daughters would have been so considerate! So of course she belongs to him...he's just gracious enough to let me ride.

Jet Storm

Out of the Dog House and Up on the Trail

City Boy brought me breakfast. He's working nights, so gets home at 7 am. He brought me a package of Rolos and a Diet Pepsi. He loves me...

Yesterday morning I saddled up Sandy and took him out for a trail ride. This was his second journey around the tree farm and up onto one of the trails. It's not the easiest trail as it's pretty steep; same one I started Jet out on. He does well, however, and I've been pleased with how he handles himself. When he sees something that he feels may be threatening he doesn't bolt or spook, but rather stops and stands his ground, then slowly approaches like he's trying to scare it off. So far he's not been able to intimidate the shadows or tree stumps; they've stood their ground as well!


In the afternoon it was Jet's turn to head out. We've been venturing further and further, and yesterday I decided she was steady enough for me to have my camera along. Depending on your connection, this could be a good thing, or a bad thing! Either way, sit back and take a journey up into the foothills that I call home.

Jet wonders if she should target my left knee, right knee, or perhaps both as we go between the knee knockers ahead!

The trail is steep. Steeper than the photo eludes to. I put the camera away as we headed up this section of trail, closed my eyes and hung onto her mane!

Yes, this is the hill I just climbed up over the top of!

Hitchhikers!!!

The view is fantastic! No wonder I had a hitchhiker!

Looking down, I see the valley below where I live.

It was an overcast day, but you can still make out Vancouver Island (Canada) way, way out in the distance.

Hope you enjoyed piggy backing with Jet and I...and that little green worm! I gotta go finish my breakfast now.

Girl Got Spin!

Darling rode Jet last night down around the tree farm while I led Sandy alongside. I'm in need of another snaffle bit so that we can both ride together, or so City Boy and I can go for a ride once Sandy's ready. But for now, Darling rides while I walk, and that's okay because I could use the exercise.

Jet behaved herself for Darling, although at one point she jumped into a trot without being asked, and while Darling broke out with a big grin, mean old mom told her to walk. No point in the big black horse making decisions such as when to take off on her own while carrying someone who wouldn't know how to get out of a jam should something happen.

The rest of the walk was uneventful. We chatted and moseyed and the horses did great out in the evening sun. As we headed around the last bend, Jet picked up the pace but as she was behind us she really couldn't do more than stretch out her long legs into a nice trail horse walk. Darling commented on how she'd picked up speed and wondered why, and I told her the ground was a bit softer along this stretch. Both Sandy and Jet are barefoot, but Jet's slightly more sensitive to the feel of rocks beneath her feet. Even so, they both do wonderfully and aside from a wee bit of chipping on her first ride out, neither horse has had issues.

I glanced back at Darling and noticed her reins were ever so long and asked her how she thought she'd stop her horse should she suddenly spook or jump forward? Immediately the reins were shortened, and a few minutes later Darling was dismounting at the trailer and both horses loaded up and hauled home.

It was last nights ride that was on my mind as I was sitting atop my filly this morning. We'd headed up a new trail, one that had an iron bridge that crossed the creek. I'd dismounted and led Jet across while she listened to the strange echo of her hooves each time they landed on the metal beneath her. She wasn't too sure about what I'd asked her to do and stuck pretty close to my side as though I'd be able to catch her in my arms should she jump into them. She'd have been sadly disappointed to know there's really not much I can do to protect her massive size.

Back in the saddle and after quite a steep climb, my reins were loose and noodle like, dangling down and swinging with each step Jet took. And at the precise moment the memory of Darling's loose reins crossed my mind, Jet's head shot straight up into the air and a deer dashed out across the trail in front of us. Jet wasn't going to stick around to see what that flash had been. In her mind, it was a cougar or bear or some other horrible creature about to devour her whole, and she spun so quick and fast that one could say she spun on a dime and left you some change.

Thankfully she spun to the right, which meant that as my body was flung to the left, my right hand was able to reach out and grab first the horn, then up to the rein and pull her to a stop. For a brief moment I'd wondered if I'd be able to stay on, but thankfully the old reflexes came to the rescue and I was able to convince her to stop and turn back to face her fears. The doe was gone, but the horse wasn't convinced, so I dismounted and led her past the scary spot, mounting up 50' further up the trail.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, but I surely know that this girl needs a few wet saddle blankets up in the hills before she can be trusted not to spin out from under Darling!

For those who read the last post regarding euthanasia and have decided to purchase some soap...I'm posting a new button here as the last one had the wrong price. As in...no shipping included. Smart me, eh?

Last Night I Met John

Jet has been doing extremely well out on the trail this past week. We graduated from short rides around the tree farm to over an hour up into the hills. There were a couple of women who showed up in the parking lot just after I did on Friday morning; they invited me along on their little jaunt and I was thrilled to be able to accept. Finally, someone to ride with!

Jet followed along as they led us up what was supposed to be a new trail recently cut. The two horses ahead of us were a bit slower than she is, but we managed to stay out of trouble and not crowd the little quarter horse mare too badly. We weren't far, perhaps 20 minutes, when we ran out of trail. So around we turned, and now Jet was in the lead. Considering this was her first time in the trees, and first time with other horses, I must tell you I couldn't have been more pleased! She stepped right out, crossing logs and mud holes and never once looked back to see why the others weren't right there with her. The quarter horse mare had a hard time keeping up, and she balked at the mud in one area, so I stopped Jet and we waited for them. Jet stood patiently until they caught up, and off we went again.

The following morning I was alone again. I headed up the steep mountain road until I came to a new trail off to the right. There were moguls, or gully washes, that rose up, then dropped down and rose immediately back up; four foot drops that took some thought to cross. Jet sized them up and then up and down we went! On the trail were shadows and logs and twists and turns. The only time she hesitated was when we came to a drop over a big rock, which had tree roots jutting out around it and a big tree on either side. She stood patiently and waited for me to tell her what she should do. Considering her inexperience on the trail and the fact that I was alone, I opted to turn her around and head home. No point in getting her into a spot that might scare her, although I sincerely doubt she's have had any issues. Better safe than sorry, and we ended our ride on a very positive note. I don't believe I've ridden seasoned horses that were as much fun or willing to head out like this girl is!

After four days of good rides with Jet, I gave her Sunday off and pulled Sandy out of his semi-retired state. This is the first time I've saddled him up in three weeks. I lunged him in the round pen a few minutes, then climbed on board. He was fine. Relaxed, walking and trotting with his head low. I tossed him into the trailer completely saddled and headed down once more to the tree farm.

Darling and I had been there earlier in the afternoon with him, and I'd led him around last week once as well, so he wasn't completely unsure of where he was. I started out on foot, then climbed on board as he seemed quite settled. It was a very brief ride; just around one tiny loop that went from the service road, down a little trail through the trees, and up to the parking lot. Probably not even five minutes. Sandy trotted right out when asked and was pretty relaxed for the most part. The wind was blowing the trees about just a little and I thought maybe that would have him thinking things were going to pop out of the shadows, but he did fine.

Back in the parking lot we met John. John is a young man of about 12, I'd guess, who asked his mother as they were walking past if he could touch the horse. She said no, but I turned and told them it was okay with me and I led Sandy over to them. The mother smiled and asked John if he wanted to pet Sandy.

John said yes, but looked unsure. John, you see, is autistic. His gait was lumbering, his legs somewhat stiff and he came hesitantly forward. His arm was outstretched and rigid, like a branch more than flesh and bone. Many horses would have looked with concern at this boy, but Sandy dropped his head as the young man reached awkwardly out and touched his forehead. John's mother probably didn't realize it, but she had a smile that out shown the sun at that moment.

I told John that Sandy was a mustang, but I don't know that he understood what that meant. His mother did, though, and she was amazed when I told her that four months ago this horse was still quite wild and fearful of people. Her sister (or was it cousin?) has horses, and she thought Sandy to be beautiful. John wandered away, then came back with the same stiffness to pet Sandy again.

I think Sandy may have a future with kids like John. It's something I saw in him while training at Curt's; when the sweatshirt was over his saddle and slipped off, he'd come to an immediate stop. I wondered then if he could become a therapy horse, and I'm even more inclined to think so now.

Jet Hits the Trail!

Oh, how envious I've been of those who could take shots like this from the backs of their horses! To have those two little ears at the bottom...sheer bliss!

The other day I hauled Jet down to the tree farm. It's a mere 1/2 mile from the house, and I used to lead Sunny along the road. But Jet is a different creature and just a little bit silly from time to time while being led. I never felt comfortable walking down to the trail head with her, so up until now had avoided it.

I'm also not a big advocate of riding alone...especially on a first trail ride! But there's something special about my Jet girl, and after a week of riding around the house I felt confident she could handle the outing so I loaded her up and away we went.

Our first trip down was in the evening, and I led her on a short, 20 minute loop so she could get her bearings. She cared more about the long grass than the change in scenery, so the following morning I hauled her down again and climbed on board. She was everything I'd hoped. Moved out willingly, wasn't all silly and crazy, and we had an enjoyable 30 minute ride.

So happy was I that I loaded her back up in the evening and went again! And just like the morning, she stepped out nice and relaxed. We even did a fair amount of trotting this time. I'm beginning to think I may have to take up endurance riding with this girl. I'd suspected so earlier, but now I'm kind of getting hungry for it. She's full of so much joy when she gets out there!

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.

Only a Little Bizarre!

As long as I live, I don't think I will ever understand this relationship!

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.

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.

Have you Forgotten Me?

Poor Jet.

Poor, neglected Jet. She stands day after day in the field, flirting with the stallion wanna be (and never getting any action), or watching with a woeful eye as I spend my days with Firecracker. Jet wants, and desperately needs, attention.

Which is why I brought out the bridle the other day. I tend to like my bosal best, but figured she could stand around with a bit in her mouth for a few minutes while I did some cleaning and mucking out of stalls.


Doesn't she look happy? Seems this was not what Jet had in mind as a fun afternoon.

Darling noticed the other day that her new horse was short.

"She's short, Mom."

"Yes, I know."

This, of course, is why she sold Quiet Storm. And now she still had a small horse. A great deal more talented in terms of athletic ability, but of course that's not what Darling sees at this point.

"You wanna trade?" I asked her.

"Really? You don't want Jet?" Her little eyes lit up, and before long she was out grooming her new black horse and leading her around out in the driveway. Jet will definitely be tall enough for Darling's long legs. She's also just light enough for Darling to learn to ride, but not flighty enough (or bucky) to get all stupid. I'll need to put a few miles on her, of course, before I can send Darling riding off into the sunset, but I think they'll be a good match.

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.

Keep Me Busy or I'll go Mad!

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is when we'll find out.

I'm about to burst. My head hurts. My stomach is tied up in knots. I've tried my best not to let this happen, to keep everything low key and not think much about it. I made other plans for April, even, just in case I didn't make the cut.


This is why I don't like applying for things. I hate to lose. Somewhere, way back in the recesses of my little mind, there's a teensy weensy little voice whispering, "What if they don't like you???" And then I'd feel all wounded and rejected. And it's maddening, I tell you, absolutely maddening! Better off just not trying. That's been my motto for over 40 years now. That and Don't Get Even, Get Ahead. Both have served me well over the years. Neither has given me a headache and my nerves have never been rattled. So what was I thinking here? Which one of you put me up to this? Surely I couldn't have hatched this little plan all on my own...my teensy weensy voice must have been sleeping.

Jet and I have been out doing some ground work. The pasture is now thawed out just enough to become slick again, so I've had her out in the driveway working on some showmanship skills. Walking, trotting, setting up. Standing patiently (not her strong point) while I step back and count to ten, then lifting feet and pivoting on the hindquarters like she'd have to do in a showmanship or halter class. I was just at the feed store and completely forgot to check for any small, local fun shows coming up. Typically the local 4-H clubs will start hosting a few in order to put some money in their coffers as well as give their members some practice shows before fair qualifications. I'd like to start getting Jet out in public, so ground manners are simply a must for my big, black butterfly.

I wonder why it is I can walk into a showring and not worry in the least about rejection? A good ride is a good ride, no matter what the placing. I've been happier with good rides and no ribbon than winning a class on a poor ride. Wonder why I have a hard time applying that mentality to applications? If you know, please explain it! In the meantime, it's back out to the horses and mud and manure for me. Tomorrow I go visit Frisco (formerly Alladin), and then to a Ken McNabb colt starting clinic. That ought to keep my mind occupied, right?