Winter Pastures

I've held our horses on the summer pasture as long as I possibly could because I still hadn't decided if I would winter them together or split them up (something I really didn't want to do).

There is always one ring leader in the herd and in my case it's Bob, our newest horse.

Bob provided me with a lot of fun this summer and I love him to death.  But he is the Boss Hoss.  He hogs the loafing shed and only allows the other two horses in when he's had his fill of food and heads out onto the pasture.

Out in the pasture everybody gets along but with winter approaching it was important to me that all three horses had a dry place to eat and get out of the weather.

Winter came in quickly this year.  I came out to find a dry Bob and a soaking wet Poco and Gus, both standing outside in the mud and rain.  They looked and seemed miserable.  My decision about who was going where this winter was made when I found bite marks on both Gus and Poco's haunches.

I've placed Bob by himself.  He has his own pasture and loafing shed.

I wasn't sure how he'd react to my decision to place him alone but as you can see Bob doesn't seem very concerned.  It helps that he can see the other horses.

As I heard the wind roaring outside last night it was a good feeling to know everybody had a dry, safe place they could go to.

Something to Not Ignore

Last spring I wrote a Post about a lump I'd discovered in my breast.  I wrote how I had ignored it, thinking it was related to trauma in the area where I'd been kicked by a horse a few years ago.

Months passed and it started to haunt me.  I'd wake up in the middle of the night and ask myself, "What if..."  I'd lay there tossing and turning, telling myself that tomorrow I'd make an appointment to get it checked out.  But the next day I wouldn't do anything about it.

When I started to find happy moments and beautiful sights sobering I knew I'd had enough of letting something unknown run my life.  I made the call to get it checked out.  It had resulted in a mammogram, which resulted in an ultrasound, which had resulted in a biopsy. 

I was terrified.

When I got the call regarding the results I remember sitting up straight and holding my breath as if I was about to endure some terrible pain.  I was sure I was doomed when I got good news.  I was OK but would be on a six month watch schedule.

Six months recently came around and this time I was promptly in for my check up.  I walked out with the good news that I was off the six month watch schedule and back on my yearly schedule.  I also walked out with the very humbling feeling that I'd lucked out.

So when I discovered a new lump only three days later I found myself mildly irritated that I hadn't caught it before my appointment. 

My health insurance requires I must first be seen by my primary doctor for a referral in order to get an appointment at the specialty clinic.  I'd just left!  Couldn't I skip the preliminaries?

No luck.

So off to the doctor's office I went to sit amongst those coughing and sneezing for my valuable referral. 

Yesterday I returned to the specialty clinic in the big city where we are all getting to know each other on a first name basis.  They told me that I'm referred to as the "Women who got kicked in the chest by a horse."  I guess in the big city they don't see many of us.

I was relieved to find the new lump was nothing to worry about.  Once again I walked away humbled at the good news.

....Something to not ignore.

Getting Along With a Dilemma

It's been a month since we put our elderly Belgian Draft Horse, Bear down.  When Bear left us we moved Gus into the pasture with Bob our Quarter Horse and Poco our Appaloosa.

Initially things were a bit rocky as the dynamics of reforming the "herd" took place.  Poco and Gus have shared a pasture before and get along well.  They greeted each other happily but Bob immediately stepped up and pushed Poco away from Gus.

Yep, there was a new Boss in town.

Gus is as gentle and kind as he is big.  He's willing to let Bob, ironically the smallest of all three horses, think he's the boss although Gus could easily change this if he wanted to with one push of his massive frame.

Feeding time has required us to drop hay out in the pasture for Gus while Bob and Poco share the feeder in the loafing shed.  Initially Bob would immediately come over and push Gus off of his hay.  But Gus being the resourceful guy he is, would merely go to the feeder that Bob had just vacated and pick up where he left off with his meal.  All the while Poco paid no mind of who was standing next to him.  Eventually Bob realized that there was nothing special about Gus's hay and now leaves him alone.

As the last month has progressed things have settled down pretty nicely. Everybody is getting enough food and nobody has gotten hurt.  All three horses now graze and nap together.

They even share the loafing shed in rain storms.

So although things are getting along fine I'm concerned about the upcoming months.  Winter is coming and it brings the strong cold winds out of Canada.  This pasture and its larger loafing shed (where we feed and water out of our outbuilding instead of the barn), are in direct line of these winds which peaked at  +100 mph last winter.

At the end of October we have always moved our horses to the back pastures where we feed and water under the lights of our barn.  The loafing sheds are smaller, fitting two horses well but a bit tight for three, especially for a horse of Gus's size.  These sheds are insulated and provide protection from the winter wind and elements. 

There is nothing as comforting as hearing a storm rage outside at night and knowing your horses are dry and safe.  This set up worked great when we had two horses at home and boarded the third.  But this year we have three horses at home. 

I'm concerned that someone is going to be left outside in our winter weather.  In addition, I don't want to drop hay outside for the "left out" horse and have it fly away, get soaked (or both).  I want everybody eating in the safety of a dry loafing shed and to have the option of seeking its shelter.

Could be that someone has to live alone but I hate that thought as much as someone standing forlornly outside in the middle of a storm.  This is my current dilemma of which I've found no solution.  Ugh!  I don't have many days left to figure it out!  Stay tuned.

Going It Alone

My husband has encouraged me to go there alone.

I was hesitant.  I hadn't spent a night there for over 15 months, so swept up in riding I guess. 

But the horses could have come.

And we could have ridden from our front door all the way across the United States.

A call from my childhood best friend who also has a cabin changed everything.  "Come up and let's hang out," she said.  "No excuses!  Let's get together before the snow falls."  I agreed, still unsure about going it alone.

So I brought Hank The Dog.

And Tuna The Mighty Hunter. 

When I opened the door it was as if time had stood still.

It was as if I'd just left.

Nothing had changed.

Just like a Mom, the little cabin welcomed me with open arms.  I could hear it telling me how it had missed me as much as I realized I'd missed it.  And just like a Mom, I could hear it asking me in a stern voice, "Where have you been?"

My friend was not here.  She was delayed.  I found myself the only one here.  I would be going it alone for a few days.  So Hank and I took walks (lots of walks).

To the "store" where the millworkers used to get their supplies.

Past the trains that used to haul the logs from the mill to the nearby train tracks.

To the schoolhouse that was used for the millworker's children.

Into the millpond that used to be filled with water and full of logs when I was a child. 

With every step I found myself getting in touch with my own center core and re-evaluating who I was.  It was good.  It was cleansing. 

Soon others arrived, including my friend.  It felt odd to be back around people after the silence I'd become comfortable with.  Time passed and soon it was time to return home. 

As I packed I set my first goal for 2012.  Next spring after the snows are gone, I will be back - with Hank, Tuna and the horses.  And we'll go it alone.





Blessed Days

They arrive in the fall.  The temperatures have cooled down and the winds that will rob us of power have yet to arrive.  They are the icing on the cake, the cream on the top, the best days of the year for riding.

My riding pal Haley and I came up with the name Blessed Days (or BDs) when I used to board with her.  We had frozen in the winters, been soaked in the springs and sweated (and swatted bugs) in the summer.  But each year when fall arrived we discovered the perfect riding weather. 

I still haul in to ride with Haley whenever I get a chance.  Last Wednesday when I awoke to find a sunny, crisp fall day, I called to tell her what she already knew - it was a BD.  Didn't take us long to put our day's priorities down and arrange to meet for a ride.

On this particular BD, Haley and I rode indoors because the outdoor arena was muddy (from the prior non-BD).  As usual we worked our horses in silence and then rode side by side to discuss whatever came into our minds.  We always have the most unusual and hilarious conversations.

To cool our horses off, we took them for a walk around the property, still jabbering about this and that, laughing all the way.

BD's are full of deep blue sky.  Haley and her horse Harley D in the background.

I can hear them, "Sigh.  Do we really have to do this?"

I can't believe I've had Bob for four months.  We have really bonded and I'm grateful to have found him - he is a gem.

Haley and Harley D.  Harley used to be a circus horse.  He can do all sorts of cool tricks.

Blessed Days don't last very long so it's important to stop and enjoy them when they come along.  They give us something to remember for the rest of the year.

Snotty Saddle Bums

First, thanks to all who commented on my Post regarding the loss of Bear who left us peacefully without any drama.  Today is a new day and although we find ourselves sad about Bear's loss we also feel a weight has been lifted because he is no longer uncomfortable.

When I purchased Bob last May, I put our Belgians, Gus and Bear, into a pasture together.  I then put Poco and Bob, our saddle horses - or as my husband likes to call them, "The Saddle Bums", into a different pasture.  Since that time our horses have each lived with a buddy.

Gus had paid no attention during yesterday's event with Bear, quietly eating hay out of the loafing shed feeder instead of wondering what was going on with his buddy.  Recently we had noted that Gus was aloof around Sunny.  Perhaps he knew what was to come.

After Bear left us we had haltered Gus up and brought him out to say goodbye to Bear.  This is something we have always done with our horses after their buddy is gone.  We believe it's important for them to say goodbye to their good friend and find closure.  Some people think it's silly, but I firmly believe that it makes a different.

After allowing Gus to say his farewells it was now time for us to move on.  We led Gus into the large pasture that the Saddle Bums have been using.  Although Gus and Poco have been good friends, Gus had not been in a pasture with Bob before although they've been fence mates.  If any altercations were to occur we knew there was plenty of room to escape until everybody settled down.

The usual meetings and greetings took place with Bob and Gus smelling each other along with a bit of pomp and circumstance, but that was all.  Gus was happy to quietly graze.  It would be interesting to see who became the alpha.  This morning all was well, but:

Those Snotty Saddle Bums.  Can you see them talking about Gus behind his back?

Whisper, whisper, whisper.

Gossip, gossip, gossip.

 

Us gossiping?  No, Uh Uh!  That wasn't US Saddle Bums!

Daaaaaaaaad!  Tell them to quit saying mean things about me!!!

It's Ok Gus.  Sticks and Stones (and your weight) could break their bones.  Saddle Bums that are Snotty don't get carrots but Belgians that are nice do.

No carrots??!!!!

You Will Know When It's Time to Say Goodbye

Like watching the sun set on a great day, we've probably all wanted to stop the clock and just be in the moment. 

That's how the last few months have been for us because as I wrote in my Post "Preparing to Say Goodbye" (4/29/11), the time has been coming to say goodbye to Sunny Bear (Bear), our sweet and cherished, third-time-was-the-charm, Rescue Belgian Draft Horse.

It could be tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe the week after.  We had no idea that it would be 5 months later. 

My husband and I have turned to each other and said the time was coming.  But the next day Bear would be doing better.  We'd say, "Soon, but not today."  Because "the day" was imminent, I didn't Post a picture of Bear on the front page of my Blog.  It was just too sad for me to put up a picture of a beloved horse whose life was on such a short string.

It is said, "You will know when it's time to say goodbye".

In the past few weeks Bear has become a bag of bones, regardless of how much or what we feed him, his hips and ribs are visible.  I watch him walk, he is feeble.  He stands out in the middle of the pasture unaware of his surroundings.

When I came out to feed this morning Bear was down.  I could see by the pile of dirt where his back legs rested that he'd been struggling to get up without any luck.  He periodically raised his head.  When I approached him he didn't seem upset about the situation.  He took carrots from me - I left a path of them hoping they'd encourage him to find the strength to get up and eat them.

And even though my carrot plan eventually worked, I went inside and made the necessary calls followed by a call to my husband to tell him what I'd done.  It's true, you will know when it is time to say goodbye...