fascination

Every horse owner knows the look of attention, when a horse focuses on a distant element. Some horses look in fear, some in curiosity. Major is fascinated by things.

He likes to stare off into the distance, seeming to take in the scenery and situation. Then I read that writer Merri's horse, Jose (The Equestrian Vagabond, great blog) does the same thing.

Major is also truly fascinated by two things we pass almost every day:

 

The first is the property next door. It is next to the stable, and has lots of fruit trees and grass, with a nice house in the center. Major walks up to the gate, with the No Trespassing sign, and longingly looks in. He'll just stand there and look until I urge him on. Does it look like horsey paradise in there?

The next is a fairly new addition. A new boarder brought in two horses, including a mini. The mini is white, fat (and getting fatter) and adorable. I can't remember his name, so of course I call him Peanut. Major LOVES Peanut. He wants to visit and nibble faces through the fence. I wish they could play, but that could be disaster, I'm not sure Major could play nice with something so tiny.

still life with geese

He also loves to stand in water and admire things/contemplate life/whatever he is thinking. Down at the lake recently we stood in the water for 15 minutes. He looked a the geese (not afraid, just watching them swimming) and out at the boats. He does this at the small pond we also ride to.

Lately I've let him stand a bit longer. As long as he is not procrastinating (which he also likes to do, it is a fine line). I figure we all need our silence, our time to contemplate the universe. Is that what he is doing? Probably not that profound, but who am I to say. I'll take these quiet moments and do the same.

supplements and feed

My Dad, every time the talk turns to horses, wonders why Major doesn't eat oats. "But that is what horses are supposed to eat," he says. I try to explain, but it is too complicated. "But he gets apples, right?" he questions. Yes, he gets apples. That seems to keep Dad happy, horses are supposed to have oats and apples, poor Major gets only one of those things.

Of course, my father grew up in the city, and has never been around horses, but Hopalong Cassidy and the Lone Ranger must have imprinted on every child of that generation. What horses eat has gotten so incredibly complicated. When I got Major I was so nervous that I needed to do everything right (of course, I've still made lots of mistakes in many situations, and know there is rarely a "right" way with horses, just the way that is working, for now).

In the beginning I did consult with a nutritionist, who I've also heard speak at Expo, and I really liked her advice. She didn't advocate any special brands or anything too complicated (though my situation/horse isn't very difficult). I haven't changed much, because Major seems healthy and happy, with all the healthy indicators: good weight, plenty of energy, good feet and a shiny coat. He gets a good quality grass hay, and always has plenty of that to eat.

But every month I turn into a drug dealer, and make up his baggies. Those of you lucky enough to keep your horse at home don't have to deal with this, you can scoop each day. But my boarding barn will feed if you've got everything organized, so I make up a month of bags. I keep all the ingredients at home, just easier with the tight spaces at the barn. I make up bags and listen to the radio and wonder why my horse eats more balanced than I do.

Organized supplements, orange labels are psyllium for the 1-7 each month.

sophisticated storage techniques for minerals and salt.

His first supplement is California Trace, which helps balance the trace minerals lacking in hay. Not exact (unless you get your hay tested) and of course there are other similar products on the market, but I like it being a local product. I like the added biotin for hooves too. I add some Omega Horseshine, which is ground-stabilized flax. I could get straight flax seeds, but this has been easier to store (as flax can go rancid pretty quickly). Good for skin and coat. Then salt. Just plain salt, a 50 pound bag is about $7, lasts a long time! For his basic requirements he'd have to eat a 2 pound block every month, which he certainly wasn't doing, so I just add it to the feed.

Of course all this (which is only about 3/4 cup of stuff) needs something tasty to put it in. And luckily Major loves something simple: beet pulp. I just add a scoop to the bags (about 4 cups dry). The barn adds his baggie to his feed tub, adds water, lets it sit while they fill the cart with hay, and feed. It has been simple.

The first seven days of the month he also gets psyllium. Last I read, psyllium doens't have any studies proving it's effectiveness, but Dr. Langdon Fielding, a well-respected vet close by at Loomis Basin, recommends it. Where Major grazes is well-drained sandy decomposed granite, so I'll be on the safe side with this.

As a total treat, Major will get some grass hay pellets. He thinks a mash of this is the best thing ever after a ride. When it is cold out, I'll make a warm mash, knowing it probably makes me feel better than the horse actually needing it.

Last time I calculated, it costs about $25 per month on supplements. The beet pulp and grass hay pellets last a couple months, so about $13 per month for those. So approximately $40 a month, which isn't cheap, but Major is doing well. And I'm really glad when I see some of the amounts of supplements other boarders use, and how they switch from item to item in search of the "perfect" recipe to fix their horses feet, or put a shine in the coat, or calm their behavior.

My Dad came and visited Major, but I only had carrots for him to feed. Next time I'll get a tiny bag of oats and apples, so he can feed Major what horses are "supposed" to eat.

fall trail in pictures

I did a trail ride in photos this spring, pretty amazing difference almost six months later. Fall certainly seems to have arrived...

My cat helper was quite talkative when I asked her for the saddle pad.

Once again the wheelbarrow of leftovers is a hit with Major.

Usually this trail is avoided, the off-road trucks have ruined it. It is tough going even for sure-footed horses.

This trail is more like it, but everything is so bone dry.

A once great road to trot on, now eroded, but not as hot on the first cloudy day of the season.

Yes, we fit under this tree, but I'll be going around, it is leaning too precariously!

The trail down to the canal, better trust those trail-horse feet!

The very fun Canal Trail, visible under 2 feet of water.

Looking left, all water, no trail access.

Looking right is even worse, no trail at all.

Major thought it was fine, and stood in the water, snorkeling and playing, for about 15 minutes.

Message in a bottle? Strange things on shore, lots of flip flops.

Coming home, unexpected amaryllis flowers. Old homestead? Who knows.

Spots of color in the dust, these amaryllis are more variegated than I usually see.

This was the first full day of Fall, and it certainly tried to prove it. The weather was a little bit of everything, with some sun, then clouds, and even some rain. The brisk morning gave way to a warmer afternoon, but with that tinge in the air, knowing colder days are coming.

laughter and guilt and love

On a lighter note, horses have such an ability to make you forget your problems and focus in the moment. And they'll catch you if you aren't paying attention.

I graze Major along a dirt driveway, almost no cars, and I admit I'm pretty lax. And I'll admit this has happened before, and it makes me laugh (yes, bad horse owner). Major is grazing and steps on his dangling leadrope. He never panics, but he's also not the most clever. Not clever enough to move his foot, just doesn't care. He continues to eat grass, ever tightening the short leadrope, and is "stuck" there till he moves a foot or I help him. And laugh at him.

Walking back to his pasture, I have to open a tricky gate. Most times it's no problem, but I had my hands full and Major dove for some spilled hay. I was just about to correct him and lift his head up, when he came up with a big chunk of leftovers and a cute look on his face. I know it's not guilt as we know it, but he knew he was in trouble. I couldn't help but laugh as he chewed the hay and the horse in the paddock behind him looked on beseechingly, hoping dinner was arriving. So Major won that battle, but I acknowledge that happens sometimes!

I got it! yummy

too bad guy, I got it first

Usually Major sees me drive up to the stable, looks up, and keep eating. Loves me not! I walk up the hill, whistle, get the halter and walk up to him and catch him. A couple weeks ago he was so cute. I walked up the hill and he looked up, neighed and cantered up the hill to me! He loves me! Some other times he comes to my whistle (and carrot), but not with the cantering enthusiasm.

Now, I'm not truly delusional (most of the time). I think the time I spent hand-walking had convinced Major I was a great food person: I just kept catching him and taking him up and down the road to eat the good grass. Why the grass outside his pasture is more delicious, I'll never know. And different times he prefers different weeds. Early this year it was the plain green grass (not sure what it is), then he moved on to the clover. The crab grass is pretty yummy, but right now this tall weed with leaves is his favorite. And the purslane (what I've always called pigweed). Outside his pasture it is yummy (his preferred food in the arena) but in the pasture he doesn't eat it. I am sure some of it has to do with the amount of sugar in the grasses, but the rest?

Add it to the list of strange and quirky horse behaviors. Major makes me laugh, just with his silly squiggly-blaze face. I'm sure everyone has their own list of strange/cute/silly/just weird things their horse does, they're just so endearing.

sunday moment

I planned a fun ride with a friend (and Major's buddy Friday). Alas, as horses do, Friday managed to hurt himself and was headed to the vet. So just Major and I headed to Avery.

We'd just done this trail, and this time Major was listening much better. We got to Rattlesnake and found some grass snack. We continued on, good cantering on the dirt roads. Partway to Avery I was done. Not tired, and Major was fine, but I had wanted to be out with a friend, and my heart just wasn't in it.

Heading home I met two friends, and we talked a moment. She relayed to me that a mutual friend had gotten some very bad family medical news. I was shocked and saddened, and walked home, my usual thoughts about trail miles, GPS and average mph forgotten.

Back at the ranch Major got an actual bath then all dirty again rolling in the arena. And I called to check on his buddy Friday, who had spent the morning at the vet, where it looks like his injury luckily missed the joint.

Of course very different, but both sad and scary experiences, a reminder how everything can change so quickly. It might be a cliché, but most clichés stem from truth: keep your family, friends, pets close in your heart. And to make sure they know. Because in a moment...

high as a kite

After a fast 6 miles over rough single track, Major fairly bounced down the road leading home. This after dragging him down the road to start the ride. Sigh.

Once at home he had to wait, and get untacked, then get his boots off, then be hosed off, then wait for me to organize and put things away. Probably for all of 10 minutes. I came out of the tack room to a swirl of dust, since he was prancing in place next to the tree where he was tied. He isn't usually so silly, I think the not-riding-much mixed with cooler-almost-fall-air is the culprit.

I untied him and went to lead him down the the arena. He tried to throw in a head-toss and tiny buck, not happening dude! He got shut down pretty quickly. We led through the gate, turned around to close it, started leading, and more ridiculous behavior started. I am not a fan of holding onto a 900 pound kite on the end of a 9 foot leadrope, so big discussions followed. After a few minutes he was backing away nicely and behaving, so we proceeding to the arena.

I could tell I still had a piece of dynamite next to me, so I backed him up, untied the lead, made him back some more, then gave him the cue to go. And go he did! Some pretty spectacular bucks, snorting, running, looking my direction to see if I was going to do anything. "Go ahead buddy" I told him. He kept going for quite a while, before finding a patch of weeds. I let him eat a minute, then whistled and he came right to me. I put him in his paddock (carefully) and he again had fun running around, and making me and another boarder laugh at him farting and scaring himself.

It is so fun when you see them enjoying themselves. Even after a good ride he was happy. Me too.

basic math

Take one in-shape horse. Add two weeks off just being hand-walked and eating grass. Factor in a 98 degree day. Add horse's friend. Equals: quite a wild ride!

Heading out Major was completely sour. He would just stop, I'd ask him to move, he'd try to remind me that we had been eating at this area of grass for two weeks now. I reminded him that now he has a job to do. He was not happy. At the trailhead he was practically asleep, and as his friend Friday walked into the forest, Major would have been perfectly happy turning around for home.

Out on the trail we walked along, both horses a little lazy. Then we came to a little uphill, I asked Major to move along, trot out a bit. I got a canter and a bucking kick towards Friday, while I heard Friday trying naughty things too. After that, there was no stopping the attitude. Both horses were pretty wired, and we let them move out where we could (which is not enough places, rutted trails and all). This time there was no switch when we were heading home, everywhere was excitement. One trail goes to the right, I diverged when Major wouldn't listen, and took him up to the left on a steep off-road vehicle track. Both horses emerged on top, snorting and blowing idiots.

At one point we were heading down a slight incline, trotting, when Major took off cantering. I was trying to slow him before the sharp turn and downhill. I got him stopped, turned around to see my friend finishing battling her horse who was trying to get his head down and buck! After a breath, she commented "We're good riders." Right then, I wasn't sure. I noted that I was pulling on Major's face, fighting to making him listen, etc. She reminded me the horses were now under control, we weren't giving in to what the horses want (running home madly), and we were still on top. I'll concede that point!

The rest of the ride was pretty good, heading home they were mostly listening, and when we turned them away from home to do one last good uphill, both were quite well behaved! Major had been so good all summer, but all the time off was certainly too much, even though necessary. Even with 24/7 turnout, he needs to move.

At the end of the ride it was still 88 degrees. I know this even after dropping my phone while stopping my GPS, from on top of the horse. Whoops. iPhones don't bounce, but I think the dust cushioned it, Major didn't step on it, and another ride was complete. We'll see what the next time brings.

riding in L.A.

What is it with horse people? Or is it just me? We just love to ride, and when an opportunity to ride came up when I was visiting Los Angeles, of course I took it!

oh no, no helmet!

Riding somewhere else is always so different. This guy was pretty sluggish, and I think only a treeless saddle would have fit his broad withers. He does need to lose some weight, I'd suggest a slow-feeding net. He did have good reach and extension, and was fairly gentle, but obviously had not been ridden in a really, really, really long time. I could ride bridleless, since he was slow, and we weren't really going anywhere too quickly. No shoes or boots, obviously some tough feet. As you can see though, he was pretty sour and was about to start rearing, so I climbed off and went inside.

Now this guy could use a few pounds, but his small stature is just about right for me. I think the addition of some beet pulp and a good worming would really help. Has never worn shoes, but does need to be taught about safely crossing water, as he had an accident in which he became mired, and it took them a really, really, really long time to get him out. He may have some fears you'll need to work through. Natural horsemanship should work wonders.

(If you can't ride your horse and have to travel 600 miles to a family event, at least have some fun. Last time I was at the La Brea Tar Pit museum was when I was about 10, and it was so cool. It is still cool.)

rider I.D.

After Haiku Farms great (and fun) crisis safety posts (seriously, mandatory reading) I thought about this subject (and many others, like could Major outrun Zombies? totally)

I have good horse ID, great tags I ordered that are attached to saddle and bridle (all the time) and mane (when camping).

But what about rider ID? I have my info inside my helmet, but what if someone doesn't want to take it off after an accident? I have my phone on me, but what if it was smashed or lost?

I really don't worry much about that, even though I often ride alone. But better to be prepared! There are lots of options out there, and I could have ordered more tags like the horse ones, but wearing them as a necklace would drive me crazy. I chose instead to order from RoadID. They have lots of options for custom safety ID, bracelets, shoe things, ankle straps. I chose the smallest, least intrusive option, the wrist ID slim. Plus it came in orange.

Plus the ability to add whatever lines of type you'd like: name, town, contact numbers, insurance info. And an extra line for a saying or motto: could be inspiring, or reverential, or just geeky fun. Mine says "To Boldly Go..." If you don't know, well that's just wrong, but it's Startrek, and yes, it's awesome! There is an interactive version of the ID with web access for even more info, but I went simple this time.

Easy order, quick service, nice design, (did I mention orange?)

I would suggest to order slightly larger. My wrist fits in the small measurement, but it doesn't have a clasp and is tight to fit on over my hand. But I can order just the larger band for cheap, but for now feel a tiny bit safer. I also ordered the Wrist ID sport for my SO, is velcro and a bit larger, though very nice. But no orange...

relief and finding inspiration

I was hoping when I got to the stable today that Major's leg would look ok, but that piece of worry was still in the back of my mind. With relief it looks good, so we'll start working again, though probably slowly to start. It doesn't hurt to be cautious.

Maybe because of how I've been thinking lately, but I read some words I really liked. You never know when you might see or read something inspiring. A special spot on the trail, a gorgeous view, a moment in time with your horse. Other bloggers write some really great stories, and there are books and magazines filled with anecdotes.

Instead I found the words I really liked in a catalog. A random Ralph Lauren catalog showed up in my office. It has beautiful people in amazing clothes, but of course I flipped through it for the few horsey photos. (As an aside, for all the gorgeous photography, the horse pictures weren't that good.)

Near the end of the catalog is an 8 page layout of horses and dogs, called Kindred Spirits:

Animals have been our greatest guides—
braver than knights
protective, possessive
devilish, like children, yet surprisingly wise.

They show us that time is so often wasted
on fears that could be courageously faced

And that love, real love, cannot be lost
only waiting for us, on the side.

So hold tight to your companions
with all that you have.
For animals know far more
than we know.

I like this. I especially like the second paragraph about time and fears. I could think of quite a few things in my life that can fall into this category. Which is something to consider, an inspiration for change.

a hesitant ride

Two weeks off: one week just from being tired, another because Major's leg was swollen. He never did have any lameness, no heat, didn't seem to rest it more. I gave it a week to look better before I called in the vet. And a week to the day his leg was tight and looked good.

So I wanted to do a short ride today to check it out. Major thought we should just hand-graze and walk, like we'd done for two weeks! We headed out, a bit draggy, and with me constantly questioning each step, did that feel strange? Was that a stumble? We headed out into the forest after a couple laps of the arena. After two weeks off my horse just walked on a loose rein, no silliness. I was pretty pleased with that. But still hesitant, and I know Major sensed my apprehension. I got off about 30 minutes into the ride, just to check, all seemed fine. Major was certainly wondering what was going on, not wanting to follow me, maybe thinking my apprehension was directed at the trail, and not him. I convinced him all was ok, and we continued.

On a trail ride there seems to be a moment when it clicks in the horses mind "we're going home!" I should check this point against my GPS tracks, is it halfway? What makes this same trail now the going home point? Do they sense a change in us? Often I make lots of confusing turns to discourage this behavior, but I wanted to keep it short. And Major was pretty glad to be heading home, so we did more trotting than I'd planned on, even if it was vertically (jigging along).

Once walking nicely, we got home without too much worry. The leg looks fine, he trotted over to his dinner, and returned to me for his final piece of carrot. I'm still nervous (I'm a worrier on this type of thing) but all I can do at this point is check his leg tomorrow, and go on from there.

There are some bloggers (namely Eventing-a-Gogo) dealing with some much bigger issues, and it makes my worrying very small in comparison. It is trite but true: horses are too fragile.

resting

It is hot. I'm really busy at work. So Major is getting a break. I rode once last week, and hand-walked and grazed Major the other days. I had the saddle fitter out to double-check my saddle fit as well as my balance, that's been it.

I'm not riding, so of course I have no idea why Major has a puffy right rear fetlock, started last Sunday. No lameness (on the longe or in hand). Of course I just longe him around for a few minutes, but he looks and acts fine. Cold hose and hand-walk bring it down, so I'm waiting. I think the vet would prescribe what I'm already doing. If not better next week I'll call, but for now we're both just resting.

conversations with Major

This is my "I don't think I want to" face

Major was reluctant to head out, dragging himself up the road behind me. We had many good conversations today:

"I can't possibly go out today." Major thinks.
"Why not? We're going" I insist and continue up the road.
"Umm, because it's hot"
"Not that hot."
"Umm, I think I'm tired."
"Nope, yesterday you ran around just fine."
"Umm, you forgot my boots."
"No, you don't need then all the time."
"Fine."

Happy ears now as we enter the forest. Striding out quickly, suddenly Major snorts and stops, head high. I ask him to move forward, he refuses. He never balks like this. I urge him forward again, he is wide-eyed and stops again. I ask for a few steps, and get halting, nervous, actual fear. Finally we get about 100 feet from where this all started, and trot on.

"I read on the bulletin board about the bears," Major mentions.
"No you didn't, you can't read."
"Umm, maybe someone told me."
"I don't think so. Let's go."

Now that we're traveling, Major is happy. I am second-guessing not putting on his boots (he is getting a trim tomorrow and I was hoping to not adjust the boots) and maybe he isn't striding out as much. Or maybe it's just me. The trail is very rocky, but he is handling it just fine.

calm pond...for now

I was going to stop at the lookout, but thought going to the pond would add a little more distance and be a nice stop. Major waded right in, though the pond is a little scummy. We stood for awhile, just relaxing. There is a water inlet that I was keeping an eye on, as water can suddenly come gushing out. I heard a slight noise, gathered my reins, and suddenly Major was bolting out of the pond, I'm trying to stop him, and then trying to stay on! It all went so fast, I was falling, but somehow landed on my feet, reins in hand, looking at Major's face.

"That alien baby head thing came outta nowhere! I think I heard about this in Cowboys & Aliens!"

"I didn't spook him, did I?" asked the helmeted bike rider who had come from behind the bushes, charging down the hill (not a bike trail.) I couldn't quite talk, adrenaline coursing through me. He bike guy asked again. I just answered "Yes," and checked over Major. What did the guy think? That I always just run my horse out of a pond and then fall off? Was I trying out for a stuntman part in the new Lone Ranger movie?

Major was fine, though jumpy for a few minutes, waiting for more aliens. But we were heading home, so the worry was quickly (very quickly!) left behind. We passed a couple trails for home, but took the rock trail for a longer loop. My concerns about not booting were unfounded, he moved out as usual, big trot home. We saw one other horse close to home, and took the same spooky trail. Not scary this time.

Major says, "Of course not, it's safe now. It would have eaten the other guy already. Duh."

A few slightly ugly apples made the bath acceptable, and I walked him up the hill to his paddock. I opened the gate and he trotted over to his dinner.

"Oh yum, I love this stuff! Every day the same thing, and still it's delicious!"

As much as we teach, we can always learn from our horses.

mad man

Last week I did a couple shorter rides, one where Major and his friend Friday were pretty silly. Then I left for the weekend, which I hadn't really done all summer. A couple days of vacation on a lake, reading, relaxing, being fed good food. Kind-of like a horse at a boarding stable.

So today I arrived at the stable and hadn't seen Major since Thursday. He came over and I took off his flymask and rubbed his sweaty face. He is good about that, and I haltered him and we walked to the hitching area. He forgot his manners a bit, and dove for some grass (even though he just left his own paddock with grass) but a quick correction was ok. He was dirty and sweaty, so a good grooming took awhile. He loves this plastic flower-shaped curry, good and scratchy. I need another one, it is easy to hold and does a great job. I decided to just walk up the road today, I'll ride tomorrow.

Walking up the road Major needed reminding to not barge ahead, to not snatch the lead rope from my hands, to not crowd. So a little training on the road session commenced. After about 10 minutes he was listening quite well, attentive and staying out of my space. I trotted him in hand to see if things would stick. For the most part, but I could tell he was full of it.

So we went into the arena. I don't spend much time in there, and don't often free longe Major. I let him go and he went to eat weeds. Nope, not the plan. I swung my lead rope around. He wasn't quite convinced. I picked up the lunge whip and pointed. And he took off like a rocket! I didn't even use it, just stood near a jump and pointed. And he ran around like a mad man! His best King of the Wind impression, but with more huge trot. It is amazing to really see him move out. I don't know/think when I ride that he goes that fast, but it is lovely, floating above the sand.

After a few minutes he stops, snorts, and turns to me. Nope, stay out there. A few minutes later he asks again. I whistle and he trots to me, all prancy and snorty and wild-eyed. I pet his sweaty shoulder, asking him to quiet. And walk off, while he follows, walks where I walk, stops when I stop, follows my turns. He is being so good, but it is time to go back, and there has been enough running. So I open his paddock gate (one side borders the arena) and ask him to walk through. He looks at the gate, and I swear deliberately looks at me, and takes off across the arena.

So there was a bit more running around. Romantic notions dashed. I don't mind, he's just a horse, having fun, ignoring me a bit. He knew when time was really up, came to me, and quietly led back to his paddock. Released, he still stood with me, a contained spirit, and I again scratched his head. "Ok, let's go," I waved, and he thundered up the hill, wild again.

night ride

"Wait for moonlight to dance with the hills."

-song: Calabasas, band: Hey Marseilles

In the growing dark I put on Major's tack. He was a bit uncertain to being saddled at 8:30pm. The sun had set but there was still a glow on the horizon, the moon was just peeking over the treetops and it was still 85 degrees.

"Where are we going so late?"

Other friends had gone for a moonlight ride on Thursday, when I couldn't join them. So I planned for Saturday. A few friends couldn't go, and Ziggy's mom didn't want to deal with him tonight (after Friday, don't really blame her!) so I headed out on my own.

Heading down the road Major was hesitant, we'd never gone out at night before. I found a convenient rock and mounted up. Major strided out purposefully, on a mission. We entered the forest, and it was dark. Really dark! I have pretty good night vision, but the moonlight wasn't penetrating the tree canopy. Major seemed to have no problem, and seemed sure of himself, so we walked along. I tried to stay on the larger trails, but needed to cut over to get across an area. Dinosaur rock trail (near bread rock) was hard to see but Major knew the way.

One moon photo was all I got

In other places we followed our moon shadow, the trail lit ahead. A fallen branch looked like a snake to me, but I never had one step of hesitation from Major. I heard a few larger things in the bushes (deer), but mostly the night chorus of crickets and frogs. In one area a squeaky bat flew overhead, and sounds of rustling in the brush as we disturbed resting birds. The moon was framed by oaks as we headed home, a meadow that in daylight is filled with tiny yellow flowers instead glowed silver in moonlight.

I could not be any more proud of my horse. Never did I imagine trusting him to navigate in darkness, to carry me safely home, to be so brave. I never once had to check his speed, to question the trail, to remind him of anything. He walked along, a good reaching stride, a nice loose rein. He seemed to enjoy a new experience. At home he got some apples and a big kiss of appreciation from me.

I love my horse.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep."

-Robert Frost

(final) friday ride

As summer winds down, work picks up, and no more Fridays off. Damn, because Friday rides this year have been great!

Major didn't think this Friday was going to be that fun, he had to go out with the dreaded Ziggy. This is the only horse so far that Major just doesn't like. But I like Ziggy's owner, and Major can deal with it, so we headed down past Granite Bay.

Now Ziggy's last ride was the Patriot's 50 mile endurance race, where he came in 13th. He was pretty ready to go today, but so was Major. Once on the trails we moved pretty quickly, though our average speed really suffers from all the slowing over rocks, technical single track and elevation. We still flew down the trail, Major usually in front being the braver "younger brother" as we call him. At Granite Bay both horses played in the water trough, Major doing his snorkeling impression, and we continued on.

After another mile or so of trotting there is a great fun hill. I led the charge in a full gallop, and we reached the top and took a break. Both horses calmed right down, taking in the view, barely breathing hard at all. We walked down the other side, onto a sandy beach. Major waded right in, and just stood, watching the jet skis on the lake, the lapping waves. He would be content to just stand and take in the view.


We began to head home, moving out pretty fast on a nice sandy trail. And Major was bad! He kicked out a Ziggy at a full canter. Ziggy wasn't that close, it was completely unnecessary, and never acceptable! After a reprimand we continued on, and Major behaved himself but Ziggy was losing it. Front or back, at any gait he was not listening. Finally we stopped and stood awhile. Major calmly stood, but Ziggy danced and pranced, being naughty. So his mom decided to turn around and do more work, I offered to do whatever necessary, but she wanted to school alone (which I totally understand). Major and I turned around, and without a glance back headed off.

A well deserved snack after the ride

Major truly didn't think twice about leaving Ziggy, though I was concerned for my friend. Major was glad to be alone, and we trotted home, moving faster now, really reaching out and extending. And then we were close to home, and walked slowly up the road, getting a good drink from the trough. I took the sweaty saddle off, took off his boots (none came off this trip!), and even hosed off his bridle and reins. After a good bath, I turned Major out in the arena to roll. But lately he has been more interested in snacking on the weeds. I was worrying about him not rolling. Was something hurting him? I put him back in his pasture, where he dropped to the dirt and flopped around, coating himself nicely in mud. No nice arena sand, just mud. Lovely. It still made me smile.

P.S.: My friend arrived back, more frustrated than ever with Ziggy. I've been there, most of us have been there, so I truly sympathize with her. She hasn't had him long, so hopefully it will be time and miles, nothing you can rush.


P.S. #2: I brought home my disgusting girth: wet, sweaty, dirty with burrs. I put it on the patio to hose off, and my cat Thomas thought it was a delightful new thing to roll on. It kept her entertained and she even took a nap with the girth as a pillow. What is with these creatures?

alone again

Flying down the trail, dodging branches and boulders, leaping steps, faster and faster. Ears are pricked, trying to see around the corner, not looking down at the drop off to rocks and water. Downhill slowing briefly, a tunnel of trees ahead, sure hooves carrying us over the terrain. A ditch, nicely navigated, on to gallop up the hill. Around a corner, now other horses, don't talk long! Alone again, our own path, turn by turn, choices. Left, the correct trail, quieter now, cooler evening air. Walking along, a quick bite of grass, now at pasture home. Free, and a final canter, silly buck and twisty neck, to dinner waiting at the top of the hill.

slow feeder

Our horses stand around much of the day, maybe playing with friends, or resting, but often waiting for breakfast or waiting for dinner. They get anxious to eat (as anyone knows who feeds too late one day), then devour their hay so quickly. They were meant to graze all day, but there are few of us who can provide that.

I've been intrigued by the slow feeding movement for awhile, and more motivated when a really great independent nutritionist (Clair Thunes, Summit Equine Nutrition) at the recent HorseExpo event talked more in detail. I did lots of research myself, enjoying the paddock paradise wiki and thinking I could make something myself.

There are so many types of feeders: bags and barrels and timers and grates and more. I decided to make a simple barrel and net feeder. It was pretty easy, until I realized that Major's shelter didn't have an easy way to mount it. It needed to be easy to fill for the barn staff (they have a tough enough job!) but at the height needed Major kept trying to eat out of the top, and an easy solution for all couldn't be found.

Since I didn't really have the time to make something else, I decided to try a basic, well-reviewed net, the Freedom Feeder. I choose this one because I thought I could easily install it on the pipe panel for Major munch on and the barn staff to fill.

True slow feeding is best: you keep the feeder full 24/7. At first the piggy horses eat more, but when they realize food is always there, they begin to self-regulate, not worrying when their next meal is coming. They stabilize at an amount, usually not any more than they were already being fed, without wasting hay on the ground, grinding it into the dirt, or otherwise being disgusting on it. If I had my own barn, I would do this for every horse.

Major eyes his new freedom feeder

Since I board Major, the next best solution is just to slow him down, so dinner is done in three hours and not one. It's better for his digestive system to have food in it longer (like the constant grazing they evolved with). The feeder was easy to install, opening like an envelope to the outside to fill, and Major enjoyed helping by chewing on the net, standing in the way, and not even flinching when we needed to remove a board with the power drill. I did a test run, adding some grass hay (his usual meal) and he was a little confused at first but just started munching.

The feeder has been in use for two weeks, no damage yet. If a horse chews a hole in the net you need to sew it back up so he's not rewarded by getting a big bite. I'll be keeping an eye on it, but so far, so good. I watched Major contentedly eating, and then saw the poor mare across the way, who is on tiny rations as her pasture is too lush and she is too fat. A slow feeder would make her work for it, and she wouldn't be done in 10 minutes, banging at the fence for more.

I'll see how this experiment works, and report on how the net holds up over time.

"How do I eat outta this thing?!"

Major "helping"

to auburn

We were up for an adventure on Saturday. I had to talk my friend into it. "How far is it?" she questioned. I'd estimated about 12 miles, not farther than we usually do on an out-and-back trip. But this would be one way: we were going to have a trailer waiting for us at the Auburn staging area. This is the same trip we tried to do back in the spring.

This time there was no rain or threatening clouds, just clear skies and a cooler day. The first six miles of the trip are well-traveled and known paths, and Major happily trotted and cantered along. We took a break for the horses to drink from the lake, and continued. There was a really nice breeze off the lake and not too many obnoxious boaters. Major did his usual tap-dance as we crossed the Mormon Ravine bridge, and now we were in unexplored territory, we'd only done about a mile past that point. My friend C and her horse Friday had ridden the trail before, but it had been years and she'd gotten lost, not a good sign!

But I know these trails pretty well. I had hiked the top portion, so it was just the middle area I was unfamiliar with. The trail seemed nice and open, so we began with some trotting, until coming across the nasty star thistle. I had wondered why as I was leaving the stable the neighbors has asked where I was heading. When I said Auburn they said "Good luck with the start thistle!" I didn't think it could be that bad. It was that bad.

star-thistle field

the trail ahead

So we walked though fields of thorns, no way were the horses impaling themselves at a trot through that stuff! But we were able to trot in the areas where the fields gave way to oak and pine trees, in shaded valleys with fig and blackberry bushes and still some running water. The trail very gradually climbed until we were more than 60 feet above the river. In some areas it was a smooth grassy slope down, in others just rocks. Major didn't seem to care, and I kind-of like glancing down into the water. I don't look for long, eyes on the trail! My friend doesn't like it as much, but just kep ther eyes on Major and the trail, and all was well.

view down to the river

The trail got easier as the river widened and the shallow rapids began. But this area I'd hiked, and I knew it was all a ruse. Because coming up was Cardiac Hill. Aptly named, we could have gone that way, but took the slightly easier Cardiac Bypass instead (someone has a great sense of humor). The trail still climbs and climbs, more than 1000 feet in about 1.5 miles, pretty slow hard going for the horses. As the trail levels out, the ends seems like it should be in sight, but there is still at least a mile to go.

before the big climb, the river is wider.

There are two trail options. You can follow the abandoned road, but it is hot, walking on concrete, no fun. We're on a trail ride, so took the trail. Most riders seemed to have taken the road, because the trail was horribly overgrown! Pushing through branches, being attacked by blackberry canes, rampant bush/tree/plant growth: at this point we were tired, horses were tired, we were done! But not home yet, so we slogged on. We went through some water and up a bank, where Major stepped out of his boot. I jumped off, strapped it back on, and continued. I think he stepped on himself coming up the bank, he was tired too. A tiny bit further on, the same boot popped off. Damn! (haha, OK, I'm a nerd but that is funny, we were at the dam site!) I was too tired to readjust it, so just put it back on. Less than 500 feet from the staging area, the other boot came off. DONE! I was done. Both boots got strapped to the saddle and we finished barefoot.

Auburn canyon: dam site scar on the right, river in the middle.

We did manage a final tiny canter up the hill to the staging area water trough. Both horses got a good drink of water, and my SO was waiting with the trailer and cool drinks.  A very welcome sight! After untacking the horses there are hoses provided to wash them off. Major didn't appreciate it, and danced around like an idiot. At home he is fine, this water/hose/place combination is just different. Tied to the trailer Major was figity, though Friday was behaving himself. I was just tired, and not beyond bribery, so the horses got a grass-hay pellet mash and we stood in the shade, cold drinks in hand.

Major needed some convincing loading, not much, but something I'll review. It was great to get back to the stable, unload Major and put him away. He looked none the worse for wear, while I on the other hand/hoof have a big scratch on my arm from trees and some blackberry thorns embedded in my shirt. I think the trail would be better done in early spring (like we planned the first time) to miss the star thistle, blackberry and heat by the end of the ride. It was still a fun adventure: I tend to think all rides where I stay on top and no one is hurt (much) are good rides!

The boot losses at the end were annoying, but I know it is my error. I had loosened them a few weeks ago when he was due for a trim. Now that he is trimmed, they held on for most of the terrain, but once wet were just too loose. I haven't quite got them dialed-in perfectly yet, but still like his bright orange boots.

friday ride

Again disturbing Major's breakfast, we headed out to meet two friends. Scheduling conflicts and horse conflicts meant we hadn't ridden together in one and two years respectively! When I first had Major, my friend D had a very feisty older horse, which was not a good match for calm quiet learning trail rides. She now leases a nice gelding from my friend M, and we all headed out.

It turned into a really nice ride of everyone taking their turn in front, back and middle. Unless he is in the front, Major has crabby/bored ears. I'd say more bored, because they aren't layed back at another horse, more like sideways at irritation of not being in charge and resignation at his horrible state in life. No pity from me!

The other two horses, Sky and Zoe, have lots of trail experience, and we went up and down and around the forest with hardly an issue. Sky was a little crabby, but I told them my favorite saying of "deal with it." He'll learn crabbiness doesn't het him what he wants.

It was a shorter ride, but nice to be done before it got too hot. It was great that Major behaves like a nice grown-up horse, my friend even called him a gentleman! I don't think I'd go that far, but we all had fun.

bananas and turkey

Some random days are made for strange blog titles.

Major will eat almost anything, and I had read somewhere that many horses like bananas. I had a nice slightly-overripe one I took to his paddock this morning. He gladly looked up from his hay to sniff the sweet treat, and took a bite. The look on his face! Then banana projectile being spit out! He took a bite of hay to get the taste out of his mouth. Poor guy, but it was funny. I'll stick to carrots. (He also doesn't like watermelon, which every horse I've ever met loves, or peppermints, which we tried last Christmas with about a 50% success rate at the barn.)

On a short ride today my sharp-eyed friend spotted a pretty dark and white variegated feather. Her horse being black-and-white, it would be perfect for her indian princess costume. She mentioned it could be a turkey feather. Turkey feather! That does not match with my romantic preconceived notions of indian princess! It is supposed to be an eagle! Or at least a hawk! Damn. My feathers are probably turkey (or vulture) too. I was thinking if I kept collecting them I could make Major a feather necklace. Or I could actually do something productive and not be such an embarrassment to my horse.

friday ride

yellow-flowered meadow

Hot. Already at 7:30am. And Major wasn't very happy since breakfast had just been delivered. But I took him to the saddling area, put a bucket of hay in front of him, and he was fine. Tacked up and double-checked my boot fit. Major had a trim yesterday, and we have to always keep his toes nice and short, he tends to grow hoof that way. Boots seemed good, so we hit the trail.

Headed for the green gate, right past it a kamikaze deer jumped in the bushes right in front of us! It was too fast for Major to even react as it bounded down the trail, then veered left, the right, then into the field, looking back at us like we were chasing it. Just going the same direction deer! Thank goodness we ride horses and not deer, they are too damn quick! Those turns and spooks would be crazy!

3 oak knoll

Continuing on we headed for the lake. We were near the trail and I was hot. I'm sure Major was hot. No goal for today, not meeting or riding with anyone...screw it, we're staying in the forest. Major thought turning back meant we were going home, and got some extra spring in his step. But we just took random turns, found a little meadow dotted with yellow flowers, a neat oak peak with three oaks and a view, and some cool big feathers. Those I made Major wear, like a dork, I think it comes from my childhood desire to be an "indian princess." I know it is not PC, but I thought an indian princess was the best, it was a constant dress-up costume, with braided hair and indian symbols on my face (of Mom's lipstick!). I think I wore that as a Halloween costume for about four years. I think it would be great fun to dress up the horse too, so I kept those feathers!

silly horse wearing feathers

Staying in the forest does make me hate two things: poison oak and star thistle. Both are everywhere: in the shade the poison oak, in sunny patches the star thistle. The poison oak can be bush or vine, as tall as a rider on horseback, dangling from trees, just nasty. At least it is native and supposed to be there. The star thistle was introduced I think as cattle feed, but very little eats it, it stabs the horses as they walk along, leaving little needles in their legs. Bad stuff, and while I try to avoid it, in some places the trail is just too narrow. I apologize to Major as he winces along: ow, ow, ow!

We didn't stay out long, and came back in time to say good luck to friends heading off to an endurance ride at Lake Almanor. My friend is nervous on her green horse (as I would be!) and kept suggesting she should take Major instead, Mr. Calm. I think he would be a mess with all the other horses and general craziness, he's just calm at home because he's used to it!

weeding the arena

Back home Major helped weed the arena (he loves the purslane plant that grows beneath the jumps) and finally got to eat the rest of breakfast. At 9:30am, and getting hotter.

anniversary

Two years ago I bought Major and we started our partnership. There have been ups and downs: physically, emotionally, and trail elevation! The last year has been a major leap, I think we both have a level of trust that just wasn't there before. I'm looking forward to more new adventures: to more horse camping, trailering to fun places, some longer trail rides, maybe getting brave enough to accomplish a limited-distance endurance ride. I know each new adventure will stress the partnership, bring new concerns and situations to deal with. Sometimes not necessarily the ones I want to (or can) deal with. But we'll get through it. We're up for the adventure.

careful with blackberries

I'm not too sure about these blackberry things...

I'll watch Mom to see how she does it...

ow, pokey! my nose! but, hmmm, yum?

I think I've got it, and they are Yummy!

Yeah, some blackberry slobber, so what?

Are there more over there? What? I have blackberry lipstick? That's ok, I love them!