A Horse of a Different Color

We are so very wet and muddy here in East Tenn. It's been almost non-stop rain for the last two days and it isn't due to stop until Thursday! The horses are doing a much better job maneuvering through all of this mess than I am but that doesn't keep worry wart me from getting anxious every time I see them cavorting in the slick mud. They gallop and leap into the air (something that I know Mouse has taught them to do because it is her favorite move, haha), they kick out and twist their bodies around in mid-air. They are having a wonderful time while I hold my breath expecting one of them to wreck and go sliding across the hillside. So far, no equine face plants but there evidently has been a lot of intentional rolling about in the mud because I now have five brown horses. Mouse, the gray horse, is incognito. ;-)

Warning Signs

Warning Signs

Love this painting by my extremely talented friend, Kathi Peters. Her website where you can see more of her absolutely wonderful work, http://kathipeters.com/ and her blog, http://www.cobcottage.blogspot.com/.

If I weren't a perpetually broke and drowning in debt artist myself, I would own this because it reminds me of Danny and something that happened this morning.

To preface this story, we have had a stray bear wandering around in our woods for several months now. When our neighbor first spotted it, I'd already noticed that my horses were behaving oddly for almost a week. They were not only jumpy and extremely cautious but they refused to go into the lower pasture. The larger of our two small barns is in the lower pasture. It is actually just a large run-in at the moment but it will protect them from wet and cold weather. Yet, since the appearance of the bear, no matter what Mother Nature is dishing out, they all stay on the exposed hillside of the upper pasture which has no shelter other than the feeble shade of a few tall, scraggly trees.

Today, Steve and I walked down to the lower pasture to examine the run-in which we plan to soon enclose and expand into a small barn. The horses stood on the hillside at the top gate which separates the upper pasture from the middle pasture and they were all alert as they watched us. I know that they were expecting the bear to come roaring out of the woods at any minute and eat us alive.

I whistled and Danny came running with me yelling the entire time, "Be careful! It's slick!" and "knowing" he understood me. Once he realized that there was no food to be had, he decided that he'd stick around for some love and affection which we readily provided. That boy loves attention and all of his attention was on us until Sadie, our dog, decided to start digging at the back of the barn. The usually calm and unspookable Danny went into a frenzy of kicking and then started to gallop straight toward the fence...with me yelling, "Watch out for the fence!"....and "knowing" that he understood me. Understanding my warning or not, he did not run through the fence but stopped and stood there with his ears up and listening intently. Now, I'm not saying that she did it on purpose but I'm sure if she'd realized his reaction, her actions would have been purposeful; Sadie started digging again and this time against something that made an incredible racket. I'm sure Dan thought that either the wayward bear or the hounds of hell  were behind that barn and coming straight for him because he started kicking and bucking and then took off at a gallop, once again not even slowing down to heed my warnings about the slick mud where the round pen use to be. He headed up the hill, leaping over a ditch and dancing through the slippery mud while occasionally giving a kick back toward whatever might be chasing him. His brother met him midway up the hill and ran beside him to the safety of their mother's side and the rest of the herd, all of whom were waiting, lined up behind the fence that evidently, in their minds, offers safety from any wild beast that might arise out of those scary woods surrounding the lower pasture.

Steve and I are now concerned that not even the sweetest of sweet feed will be temptation enough to lure the entire herd down to what will soon be their new digs. Their obvious fear expressed by this avoidance leaves me wondering what exactly did occur down there in that nook amongst the trees.

Braid...Re-do Do

Either Danny or his brothers made a mess out of his braid overnight. I'm thinking maybe the brothers considering where the biggest mess was located. It really doesn't matter who was to blame or whether the cause was play or jealousy, we had a do-over this morning and I think I did a much better job on the braid this time around. :) 

Burrs and Braids

Spent the first part of the afternoon de-burring and braiding Mouse and Danny. Django is covered with them and he grew impatient, I grew tired and my fingers sore before we were done so his proper grooming will wait until another time. Riley was just being uncooperative today but he's not as burr covered as the others. Neither is Old Brandy but her mane is much shorter and easier to keep clean.

Sensory Experiences

I've neglected this blog lately. I've had a lot going on personally for the last two months and I'm afraid that I've neglected my horses, too. They are still cared for, fed and watered, but the neglect has come from how little time I have to spend with them. They are fine but I know they miss me as much as I miss them. When I do have a few minutes to spend with them, they fight over my attention as if it was a sweet delectable treat. They do need that attention now. The cockle burrs are out and clinging to every bit of mane and tail. I spent hours one day last week picking them out but it was a futile effort. They seemed to have acquired twice as many the next day. But I will keep trying and hopefully Steve will get his bushhog back on the farm and cut those demon weed down, ha.

Danny is growing ever taller and it does seem, ever sweeter. He is the gentlest, calmest little guy and he ran with me yesterday, me huffing along with my overweight body and him, doing the smoothest, sharpest fox trot you'd ever want to see. I need new photos of him. I also need to start working with him, preparing him to go under saddle by Spring I hope. Also,hopefully, I can film a lot along the way of that training so that I can share this with my friend, Huston Jenkins, in Missouri.

I was reminded today of a small part of why I love horses so much. The DHC challenge for today was to use your 5 senses to describe a memory involving nature. Not surprising is the fact that my memory involved horses. What is surprising is how my earliest tactile memory is of a horse but it took me 49 years to get one of my own. I don't know how I lived so long without a horse in my life. There's so much to remember and cherish, the sweet aroma of burying your nose in the horse's mane and taking in an odor that is a mix of sweet hay, flowers and sunshine, the coarse feel of the mane against your face and in your hand as you mount, the squeak of the leather and smell of saddle soap and leather, the soft nicker of the horse and its even softer nuzzle, the feel of a tender breeze caressing your skin and the gentle rays of sunshine warming it, feeling the horse move underneath you, connecting with the horse and appreciating how it responds to even subtle cues and soft hands, looking around at this beautiful country we live in and seeing so much green, so green that you can actually smell it, almost feel it and a blue sky above that dazzles, and finally, looking into those soft brown eyes and having them look back at you, whispering softly and knowing as a child or an adult and, even when others scoff, that the horse understands, on some level, it always understands.

And now, I think I'll take the time or make the time to go and visit for a while with my horses. I'll breath in their sweet odor, caress those gentle muzzles, and obediently scratch the itchy spots they point out.....they have me so well trained. :)

The Fly

I nearly got on the wrong side of some kicking hooves this morning and they came from a very unusual source, Danny. Unusual because I've never before seen Danny kick, ever. He paws when he's playing but I've never once seen both rear feet off of the ground until today. I was leaving the pasture after feeding. I had Brandy's feed bucket tucked up under my shirt so that the others wouldn't know what I'd been up to down at the little barn. You might not think horses are that smart but trust me, anything to do with food and even the dullest horse is a genius...and I happen to think that all of mine are all pretty bright anyway. I paused because I was startled when I saw Danny kick out and catch Django in the chest. The two of them were in the pass through across the road which separates and connects the two pastures. I'm standing there watching them when I suddenly realized that Danny was squeezing around the corner and making a bee line straight for me. I started scrambling across the fence but only managed to get one leg across before he brushed past me, knocking me off balance and the rest of the way across the fence; it was kind of like a very ungraceful dismount because I managed to keep my feet but it didn't look pretty. I got angry and threw the feed bucket at him which was of course the wrong thing to do because it didn't punish him, it only made him turn around and come back toward me so that he could check out the bucket for food. At first he acted normal but then he started doing almost a rocking horse/bronco kick, rocking forward and kicking back with both rear feet over and over. He circled and then ran to me again and that's when I finally saw the fly. It was the biggest horse fly I've ever seen, at least two inches long, and it was latched on to his rump and not letting go. Poor guy was trying his best to get it off of him but he couldn't reach it with his mouth and the fly evidently had a good seat because the kicking wasn't even loosening its grip much less dislodging it. He finally calmed down a bit, walked over to the hay beside Django and began to eat. I thought this was my opportunity to swat the thing off of him. I actually thought that I could reach across Django with a stick and get the fly but that failed for all sorts of reasons. I know, it wasn't a great plan to begin with but it's the best I could come up with at the moment. Finally after he took off and started kicking again and hit Django in the chest again...poor, long suffering Django, ha...., I edged up to his head...he wasn't wearing a halter...and calmly soothed him as I kept one hand on him so that I was ready to start moving around with him if I needed to. I worked my way slowly along his side until I made it far enough back to reach that fly. I swatted it as hard as I could and expected it to hit the ground so that I could stomp it but I think I just made it mad because it looped and did a dive bomb right back to his rump again. I took that as my cue to get the hell out of Dodge. Danny started doing the bronco routine once again and then ran for the barn. Mouse looked concerned, watched him all of the way to the barn, turned and looked at me (probably hoping I'd go so she wouldn't have to) and then veeery slowly made her way down toward the barn. I've never seen that horse move with so much hesitation. She reached the corner of the little barn and then just stood there with her head cocked, listening. Evidently, he'd calmed down because she turned and was headed back up the hill when I finally climbed into my truck. No one would believe me and probably everyone will think I'm crazy for talking to a horse but when I was trying to get close enough to get the fly, I kept shouting at Mouse who was next to him but still a safe distance away, "There's a fly on his rump. Get the fly off his rump." She'd look directly at the fly and then looked back at me with that same look as if to say, "I'm not going anywhere near those kicking hooves. You do it!"