Artsy Video by Darling

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

Let There Be Light!

Kitty in fluorescent light, and after the fact change.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah-HEMMM!!!

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

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

Yes, well, um...

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

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

So...where were we?

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

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

Bronze sculptures line the street in Joseph, Oregon.

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

Darling jumps Steve Holt! on the beach

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

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

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

Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mustang VS Domestic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To Be Continued...