The round pen & a round bale

There has been some serious slacking going on here over at the Chevelle Chronicles.

Part of my problem is now they are the Chevelle AND Tiny Chronicles.

Anyway.

I started a new job about a month ago working for a great equine hospital in town.  I have A LOT to learn.  But so far so good, and I'm checking into new barns that will be closer to where I'm working now.

I watched a girl work her horse in the round pen yesterday while I was picking out the girl's paddock.

The mom and grandma were also looking on, and the grandma was mumbling something about Clinton Anderson--"Well, that's what the Horse Whisperer would do".  Clinton Anderson's the Horse Whisperer, right?  To be perfectly honest with you, I can't keep all those guys straight.

The horse, a big chestnut TB-looking lanky guy, was about as unhappy as a horse could be.  The round pen was way too small for a horse of his build to move properly in.

She kept making all these "ARRRRHHHHH" buzzer noises every time he did something wrong, while simultaneously yelling "TROT"  "WHOA"  and "TROOOOTTT!!!!"  She couldn't catch him (which is a feat in a 50' round pen), couldn't get him to stop, and was getting increasingly annoyed.

That horse had an expression like he wanted to kick her head in.

He didn't though.  He was way too much of a saint for that.

Then, after several minutes of completely mind-numbing activity where the girl expected everything and didn't listen to a thing the horse was saying to her,  I heard the grandma say, "Get him to follow you around!  That's what the Horse Whisperer does."

So she tried that.  She called and called him.  That horse wasn't moving a muscle except to get AWAY from her.  The absolute LAST PLACE ON EARTH that horse wanted to be was next to her.

It kinda made my blood boil to see.

Horses are such forgiving, amazing animals.  I've made so many mistakes with training that I can't even count 'em all.  But one thing I really try to be is fair, and to listen.  But above everything is: being fair.

This horse was set up to fail, and he did.  She didn't notice when he gave her signals that he understood and was trying to comply.

More than anything, she failed her horse.

And the worst part is, she went away from the pen thinking it was his fault.

Ugh.  I'm going to have to start offering free clinics or something.  I'm not an expert by any definition, but I feel like I could at least help people to notice when their horse is trying, and to reward that try in them. 

Then maybe everyone could be happy.

My girls sure aren't perfect, but they are respectful, interested, and calm.  They throw their noses in the halter and go towards something new bright eyed, happy, and secure.

Speaking of happy...

The girls are eating their way through a 600 pound round bale, and loving it. The free choice hay gives them something to do all day, and they could both use the extra pounds before winter hits.  This was after 1 day of being on the round bale--about 100# of hay gone already!  I've since removed the wrapping--it was supposed to help keep the bale together, but they took no heed of that--so we'll see what kind of devastation I'm looking at when I get out there today.

Happy Labor Day weekend to one and all!  Don't forget to hug your horses :)

In which I talk about coming home...among other things

Well, we made it back.

Two horses, two kitties, one 1991 silver BMW, and a ton (literally.  ha ha) of stuff.

Although technically most of the stuff has yet to arrive.

Anyway.

Chev had a pretty rough time on the trip back.  A few hours from home she started acting colicy, hauler called me, and I kind of freaked out a little inside.  For the first few days I was worried I would lose her.  I nursed her along (ironically the baby, who had only ever been in a trailer once, was just fine) and now she's back to normal and doing great.

However, it does make me concede that I'll likely not be moving my horses across country again any time soon.

It's pretty nice here in the green, cool (seriously, what is up with this 90+ degree weather lately??) PNW.

I moved them back to a barn I used to board at, and the owner was nice enough to let the girls hang out in a pipe corral big enough for the two of them--24 hours a day.  They are doing great out there.

I had a bit of a set back with Chevy's feet: the second her toesies touched Oregon soil, they went all to mush.  I had my beloved farrier out shortly after their return (THANK GOODNESS for good farriers!) and Chev has just been on hoof rehab recently--until 2 days ago, when I climbed aboard my horse for the first time in two months.  I miss it.

Hoof comparison...On the left, soon after her shoes were pulled 5/8/12; the right, same foot yesterday, 8/12/12:

It'll probably be a couple trim cycles before her feet are perfect (I can see the shape is off and her toe looks long in the solar view--not so much from the side), but boy am I pleased.  She's still a little tender on rocks (I've been treating with Hoof-Tough, a mixture of iodine and formaldehyde), but she's doing SO great.  Her frog is firm but spongy like a good rubber ball, the deep crack is completely gone and her heel bulbs look great.  So yay for barefoot!  I'm glad I was patient with her and didn't slap shoes right back on without giving her a chance to mend herself.

I'm now working at an equine hospital in the area, and I'm pretty excited about the job.  It's giving me lots of opportunities to learn more horse (and cow, and sheep, and goat, and pig) things--and there's so much to know!  In fact, I better head to bed so I can get up early tomorrow.

I'll leave you with a few pictures.

Chev shares her dinner in the pipe corral.  I honestly never thought I'd see that kind of sharing from this mare, but boy, is it cute.

Chev and the neighbor

Tiny looks worried when she's not stuck to Chevy's flank.

'Til next time!

2 more days!

I just got off the phone with the lady who will be hauling the girls for me.  She's in Cheyenne and will be picking them up tomorrow afternoon, right after the brand inspection.  They'll go down to a reining trainer's facility in Cheyenne and stay Wednesday.  Then they're on the road early Thursday, and I think they'll be back in OR by Saturday!

This actually works pretty well for my schedule--I'll have time to pack up the fencing after they head out tomorrow, and be on the road early Wednesday.  This way I think we'll get back about the same time.

Here's to hoping everything from here on out goes smoothly!

t-minus 6 days

...until my little silver car is packed, the cats are in the back seat and we all hit the road--the horses having left the day before, of course.

I am freaking out.  Of course it's a controlled kind of freaking out, which mostly involves how things are going to fit into boxes, stressing over boxes being too heavy, and trying to grasp exactly how much stuff I have.

At any rate, this time tomorrow I'll have a lot of it loaded into a u-haul trailer, and by this time Saturday, it'll all be in u-boxes.

I feel sort of sorry for the horses.  They have no idea that anything is coming, except that their grain has mysteriously stopped arriving twice a day.  The hay continues to show (almost a bale a day!), so they aren't too distressed.

Eating is a huge part of their day

I was curious about how Tiny would feel about having something cinched around her, since she can be goosey about some things--she didn't even bat an eye at the bareback pad.  It'll still be a long while before she's ready for anything serious, but I think she'll be easy when it's time. 

Where you going, carrot lady?

Why you on that side of the corral?

I've also noticed both Chev and Tiny's hoof soles have been shedding like crazy.  Chev has finally shed enough sole that her bare feet are starting to look normal.  The impacted bars have shed, and she only has a little old sole still stuck by her toe area.  Doesn't her foot look great? 

Chev left front (more pancake, previously bad) foot, 7/19/12--it just looks comfortable!

Here's how her hoof looked before on 5/9/12 and 5/12/12, a little more than 2 months ago:

Narrow frog which has now widened, impacted bars (look how far forward the heel buttress is!), and TONS of sole!  It looks very painful to me, not at all the feet she has today.

I am really looking forward to Chev's old farrier working on her feet again.  I don't think I've ever seen her move more soundly than she does now, and she's obviously very happy with her hooves even though they are chipped here and there.  I'm sure he'll be able to get them balanced and shaped just right.  This climate though has been awesome for rehabbing to barefoot, and I hope they'll stay nice when we move back to the soggy PNW!

A night of cellphone photos

This is the most I've seen the girls move in at least a month!  Chev is a LOT faster than Tiny ('course her legs are twice as long)...but isn't that picture of them drinking together adorable?

What do you love?

It's time to get back to what this blog is about:  Horses.  I love 'em.  I know that whole "student of the horse" thing is a little corny, but heck, it's true and it's just how I feel.

I just got done watching the Buck movie again (because it's a brilliant way to put off packing!).

There's a part of the movie that I really loved. 

Buck is standing there with a mecate (a twisted horsehair rope) strung from his hand to the hand of a volunteer.

He starts by telling the guy that's he's going to put about 20 pounds of pressure on the rope, like you would do to take a hold on a horse's bridle rein.  "Don't let me pull it out of your hands," he says.

He starts by taking a firm, tactful hold on his end of the rope, and applying steady pressure until he reaches 20 pounds.  The volunteer reacts by calmly adjusting to the pressure.

Buck does this a couple of times, both parties are calm, and no one is upset.

Then Buck jerks his end of the rope to get up to the same amount of pressure.  The poor guy flinches, braces, and is almost pulled off his feet.

After just a couple times of this, the volunteer is really on edge.  After just a couple of times of Buck yanking the rope, the guy is flinching every time Buck even picks up the other end of the rope.

He just can't help himself.

And for God's sakes, neither can your horse!

I remember I had a trainer back when I was young who had a huge impact on me.

She was a highly skilled woman, with a Dressage background and an understanding of the nonverbal.

She was always telling me to "tactfully take up the reins".

I heard that so many times that it became entirely engrained in me.  I think every time I take hold of the reins, I hear her in the back of my head.

The demonstration Buck gave illustrates her point exactly.  There are always a lot of ways to get something done, but it should always be done with tact.

If you need to take hold of the reins (and we all do, sometimes in less-than-ideal circumstances), you have a choice.

You can do it tactfully, or not.

And boy, you can sure tell a horse who hasn't been handled tactfully!  Just like the poor guy in the demonstration, it only takes a couple of hard yanks to change the whole body and attitude of the horse.

Countdown to leaving

I am t-minus 9 days until I ship all my things but the essentials back to Oregon, and 13 days until the horses ship out.  It's 14 days until I pack up the kitties, my houseplants, and my suitcase, say goodbye to the man I love, and head West again.

Will it be goodbye forever?  Fourteen days of tears surprising me on and off every day, wondering if I'm doing the right thing.  Two weeks to question if I'm making a big mistake--but I guess that's what making big changes is about.  It's too late to change my mind again.  And I do feel that it is time to go home.

Yesterday the vet came out to do vaccinations for the girls, check them out and write up health certificates.  He took a look again at Tiny's jaw lump, and was perplexed to see the same thing sprouting on the other side.  I'm convinced they're "teething bumps".  With her itty bitty head, she has less room for teeth to come in.  He declared her fit for travel in two weeks and asked that I send him an email after she saw my vet back home.  There's a traveling dental specialist in Washington who can see her if need be.

I am having a really hard time.  Some moments feel like nothing could ever be different than it is right now--I make my coffee in the morning and eat my toast, sit in my favorite chair and watch the cats do whatever it is they do, just like any other day.  But now everything has a countdown.  Is this the last day I drive by that house?  The last time I hear a Wyoming thunderstorm?  I don't remember the last time I drank from my favorite cup before I packed it away, and so many other things.  Everything seems important.

It's almost like what happens when you lose someone: somehow everything somehow relates to the day they died, which becomes the center of your universe.  That bill I paid, it was before.  This moment, is after.  But the waiting is worse, knowing the end is coming--and that I caused it--and not having a clue how to face it when the moment to leave finally arrives.