smellshorsey

Wonder if They'll Deliver Cat Food to the Hayloft?

Here I am, scrambling to find hay, keep Buddy's back relaxed and schedule summer riding lessons around everything else and Dipstick, our FIV-positive barn cat who was my mother's cat nobody wanted, decides that he'll slip up to the hayloft and get stuck there almost every day.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to climb up in the hayloft and get a whiny cat down when you're wearing your pajamas, bathrobe and slide shoes?

But I've found a service that will deliver cat food. Wonder if they'll deliver it to the hayloft and let me skip that climbing-up-the-ladder-in-my-pajamas step? (Domino's pizza won't deliver out here....) It's at holistic cat food.

Come to think of it, it would be a good thing if my cats, especially Ye Olde Cat in the Hayloft, got extra high quality, healthy cat food. Dipstick is healthy now, even though he's FIV-positive, but holistic cat food would probably give his immune system an edge.

And if they'd deliver it, life would be easier. I spend a lot of time trying to find hay. I spend no time at all looking into cat food, and I'm afraid my cats get whatever's on sale.

After all the pet food scares lately, surely they deserve better than that. In addition to holistic cat food, they also have dog and other pet food. All probably healthier and higher quality than the food the people in this house consume (but not higher quality than the hay and feed served down at the barn).

Now, if only they'd deliver holistic people food, already prepared.

Sore Back Leads to Bad Temper

Last week in Lily's lesson Buddy was his evil twin, rushing after jumps, not wanting to transition from the canter to the trot going downhill, and doing some bucking after jumps. It was mostly out of character since (1) it was at the end of a lesson and he was tired and (2) it was mercilessly hot (90s). Who takes off bucking at the end of a lesson in hot weather?

Tori, Lily's new teacher, approached me with concern. "I think Buddy hurts," she said. "He shouldn't object to a downward transition going downhill."

Now, Buddy is a hard one to read. He takes off bucking and farting across the pasture whenever he can think of a reason. Tired of eating grass? Better go gallop, buck and fart. Butterfly landed on the pavement at the high school ten miles away? Better go gallop, buck and fart. So, when he does the same when Lily's riding him, I'm confused. Does he hurt, is he having fun or did she just make him mad?

So we had the vet out. She checked Buddy out thoroughly and decided that he had a sore lower back. She says that happens a lot to horses that canter and jump a lot. She put him on bute and muscle relaxers for a week.

He continued to gallop, buck and fart in the pasture, but this week at his lesson, except for one crow-hop, he was positively angelic. Sorry I was too busy watching to take photos!

The hope is that his back has relaxed and with care won't hurt. I'm pretty good at hoping.

Just wish Buddy could talk and tell us if he's having fun -- or hurting. Or maybe not. He probably cusses like a sailor.

Cat in the Hayloft, Snake in the Stall

I've about had it with Dipstick, my mother's cat who lives in my barn. He's a sweet cat and was a wonderful companion to her, but his habit of getting up in the hayloft and whining to get down (he cannot get down on his own, even if left there for days) is way past annoying.

I know the old joke about if cats couldn't get themselves out of trees, we'd see cat skeletons everywhere. But the truth is, this cat can't get himself out of the hayloft. Lily figured out a system where we can put him in the cat carrier and lower him by a rope. If he starts giving us trouble about getting in the cat carrier, well, he can live in the hayloft.

So yesterday morning he's up there whining. He's got the world's most obnoxious whine. Very grating. And I'm down in Buddy's stall picking what needs picking when I see something odd. A long skinny black snake scrunched up in a corner and stretched up part of the way up the wall. I did what all stall-cleaners holding pitchforks (or apple pickers) would do. I poked it. It moved. I left. It left later.

And of course I got Dipstick down. After refueling, he went back up into the hayloft.

Anybody want a slightly used but very sweet cat?

If the Grass is Green, Can Hay be Far Behind?

Praise the Lord! It's raining. Pouring. We need it. (This photo is not local.)

I'm down to my last five bales of hay. My friend and hay supplier is bringing me 10 more square bales in the hope that it will last me until first cutting. The only hay that's been cut in my part of S.C. is hay grown in irrigated fields. The farm where Lily takes her lessons is out (but they have large grass pastures). A wholesaler we rely on in the next county is out. I paid $12.99/bale for two bales of alfalfa a few days ago, hoping to stretch out my coastal (I really don't know what I'm doing here, but I wasn't going to buy the timothy for $16.99. Not yet at least). I guess alfalfa cubes might be a better choice -- and I do know to soak them.

It will be a few weeks still before first cutting from my supplier. Somehow, we'll make it until then.

And yes, I know not to stock up on first cutting -- too many weeds. But after the past couple of years, it will be hard not to stock up on anything I can find.

But I'll try to be strong, have faith, all that. I'm just glad I only have to feed two horses.

And you've never seen people more grateful for the rain than S.C.'s horse owners. If it weren't lightning right now, I'd go dance naked in the rain.

Speaking of Riding Your Horse instead of Driving....

In my last post I mused about riding our horses for transportation. I came upon this NYT's story about a police horse who spooked at a backfiring motorcycle and threw his rider, then made his way through NYC to get to his home stable.

Surprised this doesn't happen more often. Here's the story:

After Throwing Rider, Police Horse Returns Home Alone

Aldo, a police horse on routine patrol in one of Manhattan’s busiest sections, may have lost his cool on Friday afternoon — but he didn’t lose his sense of direction.

      

About 2 p.m. at Prince Street and the Avenue of the Americas, Aldo bucked at the sound of a backfiring motorcycle and threw his rider, a veteran police officer.

The officer landed  on his shoulder and neck, as Aldo took off.

The reports of “officer down” sent officers of the Emergency Service Unit racing to the scene. Once the rider was determined not to be seriously injured, attention turned to the missing Aldo.

But the officers need not have worried. Within about five minutes, the horse made it back to the stable, where he was being looked at by department veterinarians, said Officer Martin Brown, a Police Department spokesman, who said Aldo suffered only a few minor cuts.

The riderless Aldo had gone south, then a bit west, a journey of about eight blocks, to arrive at his base, the stable alongside the First Precinct station house at 19 Varick Street.

The mounted officer, who was not immediately identified, was taken to St. Vincent’s Medical Center, where he was treated for minor injuries to his shoulder and neck, Officer Brown said. He has been on the job for 21 years, the last six of which were served in the Mounted Unit.

Aldo is 8 years old and has been on the job about a year. He came to the Varick stable in December after training at the Police Academy’s stable in the Bronx.

The police said that one 911 caller reported a riderless horse heading south against traffic on the Avenue of the Americas near Spring Street. Paul J. Browne, the Police Department’s chief spokesman, said, “You know, Aldo knows his turf.”

 

Fun with Extra Friendly Horses

I'm in love with Albert, son of Gilbert. Best of all, Albert's in love with me. I'll explain in a minute.

Jane's farm is so much fun. Here's a photo of Buddy with Jane's six-month-old colt, Albert, from our November visit.

We went out there Saturday to look at a horse that Lily's friend may lease for the summer (and keep here so they can ride together). All of Jane's horses were excessively friendly -- except, of course the one Lily's friend may lease. I would love to show you a good photo of Albert, who's now a yearling, but he was far too friendly to photograph. Or rather, you couldn't get far enough away from him to take his picture. He was like a cat when you're trying to read the newspaper. Wherever you are, that's where he had to be. You want to look at the miniature donkeys? Too bad. Albert's going to stand between you and them. You want to walk across the pasture? You're not going by yourself, not as long as Albert's on the job.

I wanted to bring him home. He didn't allow you to pay attention to anyone but him. Wherever we went, he went, too. We stayed there and scratched and massaged him for about an hour. In return, he offered us lots of love. He was still sorry to see us go. If I ever need to feel loved, I know where to go. Click on the photos to enlarge (except the one of me, which I only include because that is just the funniest horse face -- the one with the blaze). Please notice both the people's and Albert's expressions, especially his eyes and lower lip in the last photo of him.

And then, there was the friendly mini-jackass who stole my camera case. (He was formerly named "Bill" and his mate was named "Hillary," but Jane changed their names when she got them.)

Rehabilitating Racehorses Rehabilitates Inmates

The headline could read, "Broken Horses Heal Broken People." The front-page story of the local newspaper was about a Department of Corrections program where prisoners work to rehabilitate racehorses and in the process find something good -- and nurture that goodness -- within themselves.

I know my horses do it for me and for Lily. Bonding with a horse can make you a better person. The program has not been an overwhelming success, but it's still going and has helped rehabilitate lots of horses and so far, this one man. He's the first graduate and there are 10 inmates currently enrolled.

Check out the newspaper article, which has great photos and a slideshow. It didn't tell me enough about the horses, but then again, neither did NBC's little snippet about Rolex Kentucky that we just watched (they should have cut the hockey game short, not Rolex). Here's an excerpt from the story. Please go to this link and read the whole thing. You don't want to miss the slide show, either.

HORSE POWER

Joshua Reynolds graduated last week from an innovative program that teaches prisoners to rehabilitate retired racehorses for adoption.

In the process, he hopes he has rehabilitated himself, too.

Reynolds, 26, served nearly a year in Wateree River Correctional Institution in Rembert and four months in a Lexington County jail for a crime that he says stemmed from a longtime drug addiction.

On Wednesday, under a brilliant blue sky, he was released from prison, thinking about what was waiting for him: two children he hadn’t seen since 2007 and a wife willing to take him back.

And the dream of a better life for himself — something he owes, in large part, to a thoroughbred named Little Me Too.

“The horses have helped so much. I feel great,” he said. “My family is accepting me, which is an amazing thing.

“It’s nothing short of a miracle.”

more....

Some Professional Advice on "To Breed or Not to Breed?"

Thanks for all your comments on "To Breed or Not to Breed?" Breeding a nice mare to a nice stallion and wanting to keep the offspring (assuming said offspring lives, etc.) in spite of what Fugly says has many benefits, ranging from just plain fun to learning about life to, as MiKael pointed out, being allowed to follow your dream. Is there anything more important than that?

So, I called my niece, the horse vet, for professional advice on what to do next and her opinion on the whole project. If I was hoping for an endorsement, perhaps I should have called someone else.

"Oh, Anne! You DON'T want to do that," she said. Her passionate, unequivocally negative response surprised me.

"I don't?" I said, shocked and disappointed.

"Absolutely not. I've seen so many bad horses that were raised by mother-daughter owners. Some of the worst horses I deal with.  Not that you and Lily would necessarily ruin the horse, maybe if you had good professional help you wouldn't, but horses raised as pets in the yard usually don't understand that they are horses," she said. "If it's a male you could geld it and cut off some of those problems, but you'd still have to discipline yourselves to treating it like a horse."

Now, she loves me and knows me. On the plus side, this reaction means she thinks that I'm basically a kind (pushover) person whose existing horses are pets but were, fortunately, raised by someone else. So I'm not insulted even if I am shocked. I do indulge my animals, husband and daughter. And myself. (I'm working on denying myself chocolate.)

But I'd never thought about this pitfall before. "You'd need to treat the foal like a horse, treat it like its mother treats it. Train it and ignore it," she said. But it's so cute! How could we do that? I guess that's her point.

So I said, "What if we got professional help and didn't ruin the horse?" So we talked about who could help us, how it should be done, the perils of pregnancy and birth and the heartbreak that can happen. We talked about the expense and the stallions under consideration.

She said, "I don't think you or Lily could handle it if something went wrong. Bad wrong." She's the one I called when the hamster needed to be euthanized. She's the one who's seen us at our crazy worst with our pets. She has a point. But we're several dead cats and hamsters under the bridge, so to speak. And isn't this part of the learning process about following your dreams? That sometimes bad things happen and you have to take a detour, redirect, redream and try again another way? So I got her to go along with that.

But then we got to the thing that's probably going to stop me. Lily is 13. If we breed Lucy tomorrow and she foals next year, Lily will be 19 before she can start jumping the foal and really using him/her.

Sure, at 19 Lily could still be riding like a fiend and could somehow win enough scholarships to afford to go to college AND take a horse. But there's so much important in life that needs attention at that age. School, college decisions, boys, a social life. Will she still be my horse-loving girl? And if not.....? I guess we could sell the horse. But this isn't part of this dream.

Lily and I discussed the timing of all this, the foal's age and development and while she believes she will be riding and competing at Rolex in the near future -- and I hope she will but think her schedule is too optimistic by a decade or more and is certainly out of our budget -- she understood that she her goals and the foal's maturation rate don't coincide. Yes, she can be riding and training the baby before it's five, but she can't really be asking for hard physical  work.

More thinking to come, but that's today's state of mind.

She hasn't done all that Buddy can do. Or Lucy, either. I think I'm going to get her to sit down with one of her former trainers who competed at Radnor with an affordable QH and understands dreams and finances. Maybe if we set goals for this year, and next year, etc. Lily is a talented, dedicated rider, but doesn't know quite as much as she thinks she does.

This is tough and I don't want her life lesson about horses to be that it's all about the money. I want it to be that if your dream is big enough, you'll find a way.

What Kind of Stall Flooring Do You Prefer?

I should probably have a whole category called, "Things I Wish I'd Done Differently." One is the "flooring" in our stalls. We have no floors. We have dirt. I initially used straw for bedding on top of the dirt floor until Lucy got into the feed storage (another topic for my category of "Things I Wish I'd Done Differently) and had to be kept in the stall with butterfly pads in her hooves and all kinds of anti-founder precautions. Thank the Lord and our good vet, she didn't founder. (And I moved where I stored the feed.)

But I had to take the straw bedding out of the stall so she couldn't eat it and replace it with peat moss/gold.  It did make nice manure. Now I use pine shavings.

Incidentally, the horses are not kept in the stall (unless they've done something stupid and need stall rest) but have 24/7 access to their stalls. That means they can go in there any time they need to go to the bathroom. They take full advantage of this.

Now, what's good about a dirt floor is that it's easy on horses' feet and joints. What's bad about dirt is that every time I strip the stalls I strip a layer of dirt. (And then work lime in, etc. before adding the shavings.) If you saw Lucy in her stall, you'd think she was a pony. She's standing in a hole. Buddy's stall has only been in use for two years (didn't keep the pony before him in a stall) so his dirt floor (under the shavings) is fine. For now. It would also help if Lucy didn't go into the stall to pee every single time.

If I were to do it over, and I'm going to have to at some point before Lucy disappears from view, here are the choices:

1. Concrete, asphalt or other permanent surface. Good part: permanent. Bad part: Everything else.
2. Gravel. Good part: semi-stable surface that lets liquids flow through. Bad part: I don't like adding rocks to my nice soft sandy land, and it doesn't sound comfortable. Plus, the horses would figure a way to churn it into their bedding and I'd end up with heavy, rocky manure and my problem not solved.
3. Stall mats. Good part: made for the job and should be a comfortable surface under the bedding. Bad part: bazillion dollars and would be a hassle to install. Plus I'm not convinced that it could hold up to all that pee.
4. Tamped clay. Good part: Nice, natural surface that is semi-solid and permeable. If I'm smart, we'll slope it so that the liquids run out instead of forming a basin. Bad part: I'm sure I'll be digging up layers eventually, and also imagine that with Lucy's habit of peeing in the stall and ONLY in the stall that even it will become saturated, slope or no slope. Still, it could be redone yearly. I think that's what is suggested.

I think I've read of other options but these seemed like the basics. Before I make my next move, which will not be soon, what flooring do you have? What do you think is ideal and/or most practical? What would you do over?

I Want to Scare the Hel(met) Onto You!

See this helmet? The 12-year-old child (not Lily) who was wearing it walked away with just scratches from a fall where her barrel-racing pony somersaulted over her. WEAR YOUR HELMET.

Lily suffered a concussion when she fell off on Monday, even though she was wearing her helmet (which split and I haven't photographed). Lily could still have bleeding on the brain. We have to continue to watch her closely. And she can't ride again for at least two weeks for fear of re-injury. The doctor told me this today, and then x-rayed her spine, which is "negative."

Thank God her 4-H leaders showed her the film, "Every Time, Every Ride." She always wears a helmet, and made me promise to wear one, too. I'd hate to think what might have happened if she hadn't been wearing one. (You can buy the "Every Time, Every Ride" video here for $15 -- you have to scroll down the page to find it.)

Monday Lily was riding just the kind of ride where you wouldn't necessarily wear a helmet. Just playing around bareback with the horse in the backyard/pasture. It was a light ride to get outside a little after violin concert practice. Then something happened -- and she got a concussion and slammed her spine into the ground.

I'm in shock. If you ride horses, you fall off. Though she seems fine, I wish I'd taken her to the ER immediately. Instead, I first made her (with her agreement) get back up and ride some more (Bad Mom but a True if Stupid Horse Mom) and then I kept an eye on her.

What was I thinking?

I know the doctor thought I was crazy (Bad Mom) when I took Lily in to see him today. He said she had a second-degree concussion. And he told me all the things to worry about, and I'm about caught up on all my worrying.

She had a concussion, doing nothing, riding her own horse in her own yard. Wear a helmet -- always!

If you need more convincing, go scare your pants off (and your helmet on) here.

Yes, we're going to hang the split helmet on the tack room wall as a reminder for when we get overconfident about our mortality. Or worried about our hair.

And if you want more reasons to put on that helmet, go visit Behind the Bit. She's serious but a lot funnier than these other links.