Decisions to Make...

...and Soap, Too!

I've been asked by the BLM if I'd like to attend the gather at Warm Springs in a few weeks. If you're deaf or blind, you'll not have noticed the fire the BLM has been under regarding gathering wild horses off the range here recently.

Harmful, wrong, cruel...tearing apart families, injuring foals or worse, killing them during their stampede for freedom as a low flying helicopter sweeps down upon them. Rushing terrified, headlong into traps where they'll be pulled away from their sons and daughters, foals and mares screaming, stallions fighting, broken legs and broken necks. Bodies pulled away while frightened band members watch.

It's not pleasant. Not by any means. I haven't got an answer to the gathers, just know that the horses are there by our hand, and by our hand they must be managed.

I know I've said it before, and you've listened and agreed. It never hurts to open up discussion once again, however. The lands where these horses roam are dry and barren...at least the HMA's I'm familiar with in Oregon. Lava rock covers much of the ground. One stumble and a horse pulls up lame, struggling to keep up with his band in the face of danger. Grass is sparse outside of spring and early summer.

Many feel that if cattle were not there, the horses would have a plentiful supply. But how? They'd merely multiply and be faced with the same problem, just ten to twenty years down the line. And in the meantime, what about native wildlife? Deer, elk, antelope...they all deserve a bit of grazing land, don't they?

Solutions are never easy. Far easier to grumble and complain about the way it's being done, pointing the finger at someone else. Why is that?

It's been a couple of years since I've made soap around here, but I'm thinking it's time to put up some Soapy Six Packs for folks. Money earned helps cover costs to see the gather., and then give you a first hand report back. If not enough are sold...well, I guess money helps cover costs of a mustang mouth in my backyard, eh?

If you're interested in a Soapy Six Pack, you can paypal $28 (includes shipping/handling in the US & Canada) to me at desperatehorsewife@gmail.com.

Fancy Pants

The other evening Darling and I went shopping. Not to a mall or thrift store or anything of the sort. We went shopping in a box. The box we shopped at was inside the house of my good friend, Linda, who just happened to be, once again, cleaning out her closets and placing her belongings into a big box, the contents of which she intended to haul off to Goodwill or some other charitable organization should Darling choose not to shop.

Darling chose to shop. Darling shopped so much that Linda was left with an empty box.

Darling's closet is now jam packed full of dresses from the 50's, 60's, and perhaps a couple from the early 70's. Some of these dresses were gathered from the box last year. There are no more dresses left after this year's shopping spree. Darling opted not to be polite this time around.

Naturally, I couldn't resist a little spree of my own. A photo spree, that is, and Darling was of course a very willing subject and it didn't take much convincing to get her out in the cold October air wearing barely anything nothing on her shoulders. I'm not sure how the kid does it, but I'm thankful she does!

Co-model tonight is the Beautiful Wadatika, who has finally decided that Darling is trustworthy enough to go on walks.

Though why she's made that decision is beyond me...

Fear or No Fear...

...life goes on!

The other morning I loaded Tika up and hauled her down to Curt's where she and I worked on something totally new...and completely frustrating for her...ground driving. Tika's fear of being wrapped up in ropes or drive lines stems from her experience with barbed wire, or at least that's what I assume. Scars on three of four legs tell the tale of her life on the range, and who wouldn't be a bit touchy when they feel themselves being caught up in drive lines?

Tika's trust level has increased enough over the past year, thankfully, that there was not a full blown panic, and although I was not directly behind her, I was able to get some forward motion out of her from a position which left her somewhat uncomfortable. And she did what I hoped...she responded to pressure of the bit when I asked for left and right turns. Oh...it wasn't pretty, by any means, but I called it successful.

Coming home, I told myself I needed to get out there with the big, black and white monster boy.

This was actually the second time I've saddled Lefty since our mishap last month. I tied him off to the left, then the right, so he could learn to follow his nose and give to pressure. He did quite well. I also grabbed a 'flag', which was actually a whip with a big ol' plastic shavings bag tied to the end, and sacked him out with that. I worked it from his ears, down his back, between his hind legs (those big, powerful hind legs!), under his belly and around his front legs. A little ticklish in some places, but he didn't attempt to kick it. Which, oddly enough, I was disappointed about, as I need to find something to trigger that fear reaction in him so that I can correct him...but in a safe way for myself. Guess I'll need to keep searching for the trigger!