soldiers in the storm

I really wanted to title this post Fire and Rain, because in a way that's what it was!

Yesterday our temps went back up the thermometer to the mid-90s, and the heat index was over 100 again. I knew the temps were supposed to drop today, but I wasn't expecting such a dramatic weather event yesterday.

I spent time in the morning doing some extra chores - dewebbing the feed/tack room, doing some deeper cleaning in a few spots, and making sure there was plenty of clean, fresh water for horses to drink.

After a quick trip to the feed store and farmer's market in the afternoon (we got peaches and blueberries, Asian pears grown locally, cucumbers, baked goods, home-made picante sauce - to go with our continuing dragon tongue beans, tomatoes of all colors, sweet peppers in two colors, and basil) I went out thinking I would give Salina a full bath, offer showers to the geldings, and let the horses graze for awhile before the night-time thunderstorm hit.

Even when bathing Salina, the skies began to darken, and by the time the geldings had been hosed, stalls picked, wheelbarrow dumped, waters checked and topped off, I realized the storm was going to hit sooner than later, and that I would need to serve hay and then cover the round bale.

By this time the wind was picking up, and the pinwheels I'd stuck into compost piles earlier in the day were spinning wildly.

It's amazing how much the colors shift when a storm is coming. The warm and brilliant green shifts to a darker, more silvery shade, and the light-colored undersides of the leaves blowing in the wind add to the effect.

The wind whipped up strong and Salina and the donkey boys trotted in from grazing the barnyard to the shelter of the barn. Keil Bay, Cody, and The Little Man were standing out in the paddock, enjoying the sudden coolness and the big breeze lifting their manes and tails. I'd opened the back gate earlier so they could graze, but realized with the storm so imminent I'd better close it again. So I ran past them. They of course followed, but when I called out that I was closing the gate, Keil and Cody stopped. The pony kept coming - he's always game for some grazing, no matter what. But I got the gate closed and then they all came forward and stood by me in the wind, putting me in the middle of the herd. I gave them each a pat and a rub on the shoulder, and went back to finish my chores.

Back in the barn, I checked windows and doors and made sure everything was latched (not closed, but just secure, so we'd have no banging in the wind) and then went out to cover the hay. I got the big tarp on, but the wind was wild by that time, and the tarp was literally lashing from one side to the other. In a crazy fleeting moment of thinking I could boss the wind itself, I called out "Stand" and held my hand up the same way I do if I need one of the horses to stay put. Even more crazy, the tarp stopped flapping and the wind stilled long enough for me to get something on top to weight it down.

Dickens and Mystic, brave cats extraordinaire, were literally lying flat out in the open, gazing up at the show.

I lingered awhile with the horses. Salina and the donkeys had gone to the little barnyard where they were grazing, waiting for the rain to hit before they came back in. The geldings had lined themselves up three abreast in the paddock, facing away from the barn in the direction of the storm, as though they were a united front protecting us from what was coming.

It made me remember a day when we had just moved in, when the skies grew dark and the wind got so strong it was making a high-pitched moaning sound. I stood under the barn shelter with Keil Bay and the pony, the only two equines living here then, and figured we'd weather it together.

After it passed and I'd come inside, my mom called to see if we were okay. "Why?" I asked. And she said a tornado had just passed right through our little town, and by the radar on the TV news, it looked like it went right by our farm. "Oh, that's what that was," I said. "The wind was really blowing and there was a weird noise."

"Did you get in the closet?" she asked. (we have two interior closets that are perfect places to go if necessary during bad storms)

"Of course not," I answered. "I was in the barn."

There's something magical about being with horses in the best of times, but there's something even more so about being with them during the other times. They tend to get still and watchful, and seeing that line of three geldings abreast, out in front as though they can shield the barn, the beautiful black mare, the donkey boys, and me from what's coming is as wonderful a feeling as I've ever had.

Tilikum the orca: does this sound familiar?

I just heard most of an NPR show (Diane Rehm, but hosted by a guest today) in which three ocean mammal researchers were discussing Tilikum, the orca whale who was responsible for the death of his trainer back in February of this year.

One of the researchers, and I've been unsuccessful thus far in googling to find out her name, described the life of Tilikum, who is 30 years old, has been in captivity since he was captured as a 2-year old, and has been associated with the deaths of 3 people during his lifetime.

She noted that he is kept almost completely isolated, with no contact with other whales, in a tank much too small to be considered humane, in chemically-treated water that is known to affect whales and other ocean mammals negatively over the course of their lifetimes, and is regularly forced to donate sperm that is used to artificially impregnate female whales owned by Sea World.

She noted that since the death of his trainer, he is now even more isolated than he was before, and that Sea World has flatly ignored her suggestion that Tilikum be retired into a much larger tank, with at least one other whale, where he might be less stressed and live out his life in a more humane manner.

When I got home, I was so upset I tried to locate more information. I did find a description of how they obtain the sperm from Tilikum, which involves getting him to roll onto his bank in a small tank, stimulating him, and then collecting the sperm. Apparently they are continuing to do this, even though he is no longer being used in the shows at Sea World.

As I listened and then read, I couldn't help but think about how similar this sounds to the living conditions of many of the breeding stallions around the world whose foals are much in demand.

I read some quotes attributed to several trainers who left Sea World and have since changed their minds about the ethics of keeping these huge, intelligent mammals in captivity. Their descriptions of the living conditions of these animals at Sea World used the word "brutal."

I have been to Sea World one time, as a graduate student in Austin, Texas. I admit, the whale show was a moving experience, but I worried about the animals the entire day I spent there. As one researcher said in today's show, she tries to reconcile her feelings that there should be no Sea Worlds with the knowledge that some of these animals will never be able to be returned to a natural, free environment. What needs to happen is a harsh, behind-the-scenes look at the way these captive mammals are kept, how they are used, and what can be done to ensure a humane and dignified life for them.

I'm still looking for information, and will try to add links as I find them.

I found a link to the show, which lists the speakers and gives links and information about their publications.

august, here we are

I changed the blog design today because suddenly I realized it's the beginning of August, and when I look out the window or walk outside in any direction, the overwhelming green-ness is what surrounds me. I think I'm ready for the blog to reflect that.

Last night I went out to spend some time with Keil Bay, and immediately noticed his right eye was bothering him. It wasn't goopy, wasn't red, only the very tiniest bit puffy, but he was blinking it a little more than normal. So after his meal I squeezed a warm wet washcloth over his eye, wiped it gently, and gave him a homeopathic remedy I thought might help. Fortunately that did the trick. Everything is normal today.

It reminded me, though, how cooperative my crew here is when it comes to things like that. Keil is a big horse and he can so easily lift his head out of reach. And he does that sometimes, but he will bring it down if I center myself and ask quietly.

August dawned with my husband going out to let horses in, and finding Dickens the Feline Cowboy sleeping in one of the horse mangers, on some leftover hay. Somehow, that symbolizes the lushness of August while at the same time serving as a premonition of a cool autumn morning. 

Today the horses and donkeys have switched pastures and they are over the top happy with the new grazing. The entire family went out this evening bearing a tray of special donkey birthday cookies for Rafer's belated celebration. I had envisioned all of us around the picnic table, but I couldn't bear to bring them in from their turn-out, so we handed out cookies over the arena fence.

Rafer Johnson knew instantly what was up and he came marching right up to us. Redford was not far behind. After a minute, Keil Bay and Salina came up. Cody received his at the round bale - he was in the barnyard eating some hay after his ride, and The Pony (I remembered to capitalize!) would not even leave the grass to come get his, so His Girl took them directly to him.

It was a quiet, quick celebration, but I think they appreciated being left to graze.

Next weekend we have a new family member coming home to November Hill.  "Bear" - whose name is probably going to be Tristan - will be making the journey and then the transition into the fold.

finally, a night in the 60s!

I think the horses and donkeys knew the temperatures were falling even before the sun set yesterday - Redford and Cody were having one of their extended play sessions, something they haven't done lately due to the oppressive heat.

My grand plan to be out in the cool of the night was shifted somewhat when I walked by the sofa barefoot and somehow rammed my little toe. It hurt and throbbed so hard I knew it was more than the usual stubbing - this morning it is purple and swollen and possibly broken. But I can walk, just not quite normally!

Last night though, I hobbled out with my husband and watched while Salina got her evening stroll in the arena. Two donkeys were running like mad, circling and chasing one another. There was the slightest hint of chill to the air, and it brought out the frisky play. The donkeys took a break to come stand beside me as I rested on the mounting block. There was a little bit of jostling for best scratching positions, which they got, and then they were off again.

Salina was really walking out, which was nice to see.

I couldn't bear to give up completely on my plan to spend some time with the Big Bay, so my husband put on his halter and lead rope and brought him into the arena for me. I hobbled along with Keil for about 1/4 of the way around the arena and realized I couldn't go the entire way. So we spent a little time together backing and turning on the forehand and haunches, and then just stood together for a few minutes, listening to the night sounds and enjoying the cool air.

While my husband was feeding dinner tubs, I laid down along the bench of the picnic table and looked up at the sky. After a few minutes a soft warm muzzle appeared, along with some very handsome and very sweet donkey eyes. Rafer Johnson had finished his meal and come out to visit. He stood and rested his muzzle on my abdomen while he got scratches in his most favorite place - along both sides of his neck. I've said it before and I'll say it again: there is nothing sweeter than a donkey's gaze.

Our feed store is trying a new brand of beet pulp shreds and they asked if I would sample a bag for them, as they know how picky I am and that I do a fairly elaborate rinse/soak/rinse routine and inspect the feed closely. This particular brand is not nearly as dusty, but the shreds are larger and I wondered if the horses would note the difference. It rinsed about the same as the other does, but once rinsed and soaked, the last rinse before feeding seems "cleaner" and the final product looks nice.

Donkeys approved, Salina approved (usually she's the one who refuses something if it's different), Cody and the pony approved. Keil Bay left over half his meal! I was shocked, as he is generally a very enthusiastic eater and I can count on two fingers the things he has refused. One was a home-made from scratch carrot cake with cream cheese frosting I made for the first birthday he shared with me. I think he thought the frosting was dewormer paste and I was trying to pull a fast one. The second were alfalfa pellets that used soybean oil as a binder. (the entire herd refused those - it was quite bizarre)

Last night, when he didn't finish his meal, I asked for a cup of oats and went into his stall to sprinkle them over the beet pulp/alfalfa pellet plus salt and ground flax mixture left in his blue tub. I knew if there was something wrong with the food, the oats wouldn't make a difference, but as soon as I lifted his tub up and sprinkled the oats, he came back and resumed eating with great relish.

In the mornings I often go in at the end of the meal and hold Keil's tub for him so he can lick it clean more easily. I've always done this, and it has always been a special few minutes of time we share. He seems to appreciate the gesture, and will usually lick my fingers a few times during the process.

Last night my toe was throbbing, so I sat on the edge of the manger and held the tub. Keil was careful to when he moved his head, not bumping me, and because it was actually half his meal, it took awhile for him to eat. He ate the bulk of the meal and then meticulously slurped up the juicier portion (we feed wet). At the end, he proceeded with the careful licking clean he likes to do. The other horses had already gone out to the field, but Keil was very happy standing there with me, taking his time, enjoying his meal. I was happy to be there, sitting so close with his tub, and getting smeared with feed as he lifted his head to chew and look.

We had one "hanger on" - Apache Moon often stays behind in the evenings so he can lick out the tubs. For awhile he was waiting patiently at Keil's back door, but it took so long he wandered down the paddock.

When Keil was done and I opened his door so he could rejoin his herd, he didn't leave. I think he wanted to stay and hang out for awhile. I waited in the paddock right by the barn, and he came out, stopped to say good night, and headed down the paddock, through the light from the arena, and then into the dark shadows.

I hope the equines all enjoyed the taste of a changing summer last night - it was so nice feeling the cooler air, and remembering that the heat of summer does move on.

power walking with the Big Bay

Yesterday I went out earlier in the evening to see if I could continue the ease back into work with Keil Bay. He was in the arena grazing (yes, that is unfortunately true! GRASS in the arena enough to graze!) with Cody and Rafer Johnson.

The pony had let himself into the barnyard with Salina and Redford, who were all peacefully co-existing with some hay.

Keil lifted his head as soon as I walked in the arena. I had a halter and lead rope, so he knew something was up. I think he thought we might be heading to the barn to tack up, but I surprised him and took him for a walk all through the front of our property. It's been so hot, and the horses have been slow-moving and slightly sluggish, so when Keil walked out very big with ears up and in his fullest Big Bay posture, it took ME by surprise.

What pleasure to take a walk with a big, alert, handsome Hanoverian! Everything is immensely green, the light from the sun low in the sky is so soft and lovely, and there we were in the midst of it. As we headed up the hill and back toward the barn, we jumped together over the creek bed, and through the loose lead line I could feel the power in Keil's big body, coiled and in his complete control, waiting to see if I would keep the forward momentum and build it into a trot, or continue the walking we'd been doing.

It was like having a big, horse-shaped balloon full of energy on the line, but more even, because of the connection between two living beings.

As  went up the hill, Keil's energy increased and I responded silently, with a sense of pleasure in his movement and power, and the energy seemed to circle. He went into a piaffe.
 
I've not done advanced work in hand, nor have I done long-lining, which I so want to learn. I think a lot of people feel that kind of work is mostly done to get the horse ready for riding, but when I experience the power that I felt yesterday with the Big Bay, I realize the absolute wonder of that kind of work.

That a horse weighing 1300+ pounds chooses to stay with me, connected in spirit and by the lead line, and circles his energy into such a lovely, still movement, is pure magic.

We moved on in our walk and ended up back in the arena, where we did some more walking, really big strides and Keil keeping his head at my shoulder.

My plan was to end with a good groom, but I realized that all the sweat and hosings and rollings had left his coat in need of a real bath, so we spent a good half an hour under the big oak tree. I used the soft scrubber he loves, and about halfway through, he shifted from enjoying the bath but wanting to get to hay, to wanting to just be there with me. I rinsed him on one setting but he loves the mist setting so much we created a rhythm - rinse rinse rinse, clickclickclick to mist for his face and muzzle, clickclickclick back to circle setting to rinse.

Keil Bay is the kind of horse who thrives on the routine of being worked and cared for - he shows his gratitude by engaging at a very deep and connected level once you connect with him that way. It is a mystery that I suppose I will never solve - is he simply oriented this way personality-wise, or did someone nurture this tendency carefully to grow and develop it?

The answer is probably some of both.