I'm not sure what we can do to change what happens in this video. Madeleine Pickens is asking Oprah to do a show to raise awareness and force the BLM to stop these practices and to release the horses and donkeys from holding pens back to the range where they were brutally and heartlessly herded by helicopter.
Tonight while reading my Facebook feed I've burst into tears (wailing tears) at a series of photographs of a rescue mare (not a mustang) that is now in safe hands. Then I came across this video. I watched it once, and I can't watch it again. But every one of us who love horses and donkeys, each of us who know how special these animals are, and how much they matter in our world, need to see this just one time, and get one other person to watch it just one time - so that one by one and two by two, we can create a group of people big enough and intent enough to figure out a way to stop this.
The idea that one cent of the money I pay in taxes is supporting this program makes me ill. If anyone has more information on what we can do to help change this, please post it in the comment section. I am beyond appalled. I've seen some of what they've done in the past, and I've signed petitions and sent emails. There has to be a way to do more.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
the senior horse, 4: beating the heat with a bath
This week we're having some very warm days for May - highs in the mid-90s and an intense humidity that makes everything seem sticky and sweaty.
After breakfast this morning I got things set up underneath the big oak tree in the little barnyard and led Salina out for a bath. I had a feeling she might appreciate it more than the usual grooming we do.
For a few seconds she didn't want to go with me. I had put a lead rope over her neck and started to march out of the barn, but she stopped and tried to turn into the stall. I stopped too and realized I'd skipped a step. In my own head I was ready to get going with her bath, but I hadn't taken the time to communicate that to her.
"I thought a bath would feel good," I said to her, and pointed with my left arm out to the oak tree. "Let's go out and cool off, Salina Bean." She immediately walked out with me. I looped the lead rope around the base of her neck and adjusted it so the buckle wasn't hanging in an uncomfortable way. I had everything ready, so I got started quickly, a gentle scrubbing with shampoo diluted with water. Salina doesn't like being bathed with the soapy sponge around her face, so I usually start mid-way her neck and go backward, then around her tail and up the other side.
As I got going with the rubber scrubber and sponge, in my right hand, Salina kept putting her nose on my left hand, very gently as if she was trying to tell me something. I stopped and just stood still with her. She turned and looked me in the eye, rested her nose on my palm, and said very clearly, "thank you." It was as clear as if she had said it in human English. And interesting because Salina is not often affectionate in that particular way, but she very much wanted me to stop and allow her to not only say thank you, but to do it in a special way, with her nose and muzzle.
I also had the sense she wanted me to slow down and just enjoy the time with her, so I notched down several notches, and just stood rinsing, very slowly and deliberately on the "gentle stream" setting, rotating the hose nozzle so she got a little bit of massage action. I went over her body inch by inch, really taking my time and letting the water soothe both of us.
Salina emitted a very long and relaxed sigh of contentment.
The donkeys came out and began to roll in their dust circle, which they often do while Salina gets her water baths. We shifted angles slightly so Salina could watch them roll while we continued rinsing.
After the first round of rinsing, Salina turned to me again and this time nuzzled my arm, again very gently. This time meant something different, and this time I was much more attuned to her, so I knew immediately what it was - even though it's something she rarely wants. She wanted me to stand right in front with the hose and spray her underneath her jaw. Keil Bay loves this, and I do it often for him on hot days, but Salina generally wants no water from the hose aimed anywhere near her face.
But this morning, she wanted exactly that, and she knew how to tell me so. By slowing down and just being with her, I had tuned in enough to listen and understand.
We spent several minutes with the hose under her jaw. I tested several settings - gentle stream, mist, cone - and we ended up back on gentle stream again.
When she was done with the under-the-jaw hosing, she very quietly turned so I could get back to rinsing her body again, and at the exact moment I thought in my head, there, all done, she stepped forward toward the barn.
"Wait," I said, and she stopped and allowed me to take a clean cloth with plain water and wipe her eyes, her face, and all along the poll and upper neck. Then when I removed the lead line, she waited one more second to make sure I was done, and she headed into the barn.
I took the sweat scraper in and did a gentle scraping, and she was back with her donkeys in the cool barn, clean and very happy.
I was thinking as I stood there with her, how different it is to bathe a horse who is tied and unable to communicate by turning and nuzzling and even by walking away if something is truly unpleasant. The communication is so much easier when they can move and let us know what feels good, what doesn't, and what they would like us to do.
All of ours enjoy baths and hosings when it's very hot, but the seniors especially seem to appreciate a long, slow rinse - especially when there's nothing else in the world but us, them, a hose with some good settings, and a little soapy water sliding down and away, watering the big old oak tree that lends its shade.
After breakfast this morning I got things set up underneath the big oak tree in the little barnyard and led Salina out for a bath. I had a feeling she might appreciate it more than the usual grooming we do.
For a few seconds she didn't want to go with me. I had put a lead rope over her neck and started to march out of the barn, but she stopped and tried to turn into the stall. I stopped too and realized I'd skipped a step. In my own head I was ready to get going with her bath, but I hadn't taken the time to communicate that to her.
"I thought a bath would feel good," I said to her, and pointed with my left arm out to the oak tree. "Let's go out and cool off, Salina Bean." She immediately walked out with me. I looped the lead rope around the base of her neck and adjusted it so the buckle wasn't hanging in an uncomfortable way. I had everything ready, so I got started quickly, a gentle scrubbing with shampoo diluted with water. Salina doesn't like being bathed with the soapy sponge around her face, so I usually start mid-way her neck and go backward, then around her tail and up the other side.
As I got going with the rubber scrubber and sponge, in my right hand, Salina kept putting her nose on my left hand, very gently as if she was trying to tell me something. I stopped and just stood still with her. She turned and looked me in the eye, rested her nose on my palm, and said very clearly, "thank you." It was as clear as if she had said it in human English. And interesting because Salina is not often affectionate in that particular way, but she very much wanted me to stop and allow her to not only say thank you, but to do it in a special way, with her nose and muzzle.
I also had the sense she wanted me to slow down and just enjoy the time with her, so I notched down several notches, and just stood rinsing, very slowly and deliberately on the "gentle stream" setting, rotating the hose nozzle so she got a little bit of massage action. I went over her body inch by inch, really taking my time and letting the water soothe both of us.
Salina emitted a very long and relaxed sigh of contentment.
The donkeys came out and began to roll in their dust circle, which they often do while Salina gets her water baths. We shifted angles slightly so Salina could watch them roll while we continued rinsing.
After the first round of rinsing, Salina turned to me again and this time nuzzled my arm, again very gently. This time meant something different, and this time I was much more attuned to her, so I knew immediately what it was - even though it's something she rarely wants. She wanted me to stand right in front with the hose and spray her underneath her jaw. Keil Bay loves this, and I do it often for him on hot days, but Salina generally wants no water from the hose aimed anywhere near her face.
But this morning, she wanted exactly that, and she knew how to tell me so. By slowing down and just being with her, I had tuned in enough to listen and understand.
We spent several minutes with the hose under her jaw. I tested several settings - gentle stream, mist, cone - and we ended up back on gentle stream again.
When she was done with the under-the-jaw hosing, she very quietly turned so I could get back to rinsing her body again, and at the exact moment I thought in my head, there, all done, she stepped forward toward the barn.
"Wait," I said, and she stopped and allowed me to take a clean cloth with plain water and wipe her eyes, her face, and all along the poll and upper neck. Then when I removed the lead line, she waited one more second to make sure I was done, and she headed into the barn.
I took the sweat scraper in and did a gentle scraping, and she was back with her donkeys in the cool barn, clean and very happy.
I was thinking as I stood there with her, how different it is to bathe a horse who is tied and unable to communicate by turning and nuzzling and even by walking away if something is truly unpleasant. The communication is so much easier when they can move and let us know what feels good, what doesn't, and what they would like us to do.
All of ours enjoy baths and hosings when it's very hot, but the seniors especially seem to appreciate a long, slow rinse - especially when there's nothing else in the world but us, them, a hose with some good settings, and a little soapy water sliding down and away, watering the big old oak tree that lends its shade.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
2011 EHV-1 situation report at APHA
Someone provided THIS LINK to the APHA site earlier today which seems to have a great deal of very specific information on the recent EHV-1 exposure at a competition held in Ogden, Utah.
Check out the May 19th situation report (it will download as a PDF) and also the various fact sheets.
The situation report offers actual numbers of confirmed cases as well as numbers of horses euthanized and for me helped put this into perspective.
Here's an article about A HOLISTIC APPROACH to this issue.
And ANOTHER. (this one is on Facebook so if you're not signed up or in you may not be able to view it, but's a terrific write-up by a vet)
I've been receiving a number of panic-inducing emails from various horse groups I'm involved in, one of which passed on irrelevant information from 2007 as current data - everyone needs to stop, take a deep breath, and get grounded with reference to this outbreak.
Healthy horses not stressed by poor diets, frequent travel, and over-immunization are at the least risk.
Check out the May 19th situation report (it will download as a PDF) and also the various fact sheets.
The situation report offers actual numbers of confirmed cases as well as numbers of horses euthanized and for me helped put this into perspective.
Here's an article about A HOLISTIC APPROACH to this issue.
And ANOTHER. (this one is on Facebook so if you're not signed up or in you may not be able to view it, but's a terrific write-up by a vet)
I've been receiving a number of panic-inducing emails from various horse groups I'm involved in, one of which passed on irrelevant information from 2007 as current data - everyone needs to stop, take a deep breath, and get grounded with reference to this outbreak.
Healthy horses not stressed by poor diets, frequent travel, and over-immunization are at the least risk.
Friday, May 20, 2011
lessons in riding, 6
Tonight's lesson: how much I learn when I ride a different horse! It's been awhile since I rode our 8-year old QH, Cody. He's 15.3, not built like a tank, and in almost every way he's a different ride than Keil.
Cody is infinitely more sensitive to every aid. Keil is not what I would call insensitive, but with Keil there are a few different settings. One is what I call slug setting, where he just plods around and doesn't really do anything special at all. Another is "I know all the right ways to look so here you go" setting - which is actually quite masterful if you think about it. He knows how to torque his body to LOOK like he's doing what he thinks you want him to look like. But he's still stiff and and not straight, and thus things feel a bit clunky and unbalanced. And Keil has a setting which is brilliance in motion. It's not all that difficult to activate this setting - it took me awhile because I simply wasn't ready for it, but once I was, and I asked instead of demanded, he gave it to me. Part of my work with Keil Bay has been me learning that I never need to demand anything from him. And that in fact, doing so gets the slug or the fake-out. He saves his brilliance for when I focus on myself, get into balance, and ask.
With Cody there is mostly one setting. He came to us tense, using tiny strides as he had been taught to do as a very young Western Pleasure horse. He was fully trained under saddle at age TWO. We thought he was almost four when we bought him, and then the papers arrived. TWO YEARS OLD! We backed off rigorous riding and encouraged him to stretch out and really use his body. Now, at age eight, he is still anxious to please, and still defaults to tense, but I think now that is more due to the fact that we believe he has PSSM. With a balanced, low carb diet, regular exercise, and acetyl l-carnitine, he does very well, but we have adjusted our goals for him. He won't be the Pony Club horse for my daughter, as that requires hauling, lots of jumping, and I am not willing to give him a job he might not be able to do well. He cares too much about doing a good job.
Cody is a wonderful tag team teacher for me. Riding Keil Bay is like closing my eyes and just feeling for the magic. With Cody, I need to tune in to every part of my body. I always feel like I have more control of my legs when I ride Cody, which I think allows me more finesse in applying the aids. I suspect most of this is due to the fact that he simply isn't as broad-backed as Keil is - my pelvis doesn't have to open as wide, and it's just easier to use my legs well.
On the other hand, Keil's strides are longer and more fluid, so in that sense he's an easier horse to sit, which in some ways makes it easier to cue things. There's a longer beat in there in which I can ask. Going from Keil Bay to Cody is like inserting a fast forward button - everything goes faster on Cody, almost like I'm in a time lapse and I have to work hard to catch up to myself.
Tonight we rode after dark and instead of Keil Bay's high alert mode, I enjoyed Cody's laid back demeanor about things like dark corners, the short side by the forest, the diving of bats, and the hooting of owls.
I also discovered that Cody knows shoulder-in. I honestly can't remember how much I've worked with him on this exercise - but tonight we did it effortlessly in both directions.
We had an audience. When Keil Bay realized I was in the barn, he came in from the front field. And when he realized I was riding Cody, he met me at the arena gate and stuck his head over, pushing to come in. "You get the night off," I told him, so he went to the barn and stood in one stall, Salina stood in the one next door to him, and the donkey boys stood in the paddock, and watched us ride.
My daughter rode the pony and named all the bird calls. And tonight is the first night I heard the whippoorwill calling.
Just now, typing this, I heard something, a soft, muted sound, outside my window. I opened it up and was answered instantly - the soft, relaxed snorting of a horse. I don't know which one, and it doesn't even matter. Tonight's real lesson is this: even when the rides are wonderful, the real wonder is when they know we know they're there.
Cody is infinitely more sensitive to every aid. Keil is not what I would call insensitive, but with Keil there are a few different settings. One is what I call slug setting, where he just plods around and doesn't really do anything special at all. Another is "I know all the right ways to look so here you go" setting - which is actually quite masterful if you think about it. He knows how to torque his body to LOOK like he's doing what he thinks you want him to look like. But he's still stiff and and not straight, and thus things feel a bit clunky and unbalanced. And Keil has a setting which is brilliance in motion. It's not all that difficult to activate this setting - it took me awhile because I simply wasn't ready for it, but once I was, and I asked instead of demanded, he gave it to me. Part of my work with Keil Bay has been me learning that I never need to demand anything from him. And that in fact, doing so gets the slug or the fake-out. He saves his brilliance for when I focus on myself, get into balance, and ask.
With Cody there is mostly one setting. He came to us tense, using tiny strides as he had been taught to do as a very young Western Pleasure horse. He was fully trained under saddle at age TWO. We thought he was almost four when we bought him, and then the papers arrived. TWO YEARS OLD! We backed off rigorous riding and encouraged him to stretch out and really use his body. Now, at age eight, he is still anxious to please, and still defaults to tense, but I think now that is more due to the fact that we believe he has PSSM. With a balanced, low carb diet, regular exercise, and acetyl l-carnitine, he does very well, but we have adjusted our goals for him. He won't be the Pony Club horse for my daughter, as that requires hauling, lots of jumping, and I am not willing to give him a job he might not be able to do well. He cares too much about doing a good job.
Cody is a wonderful tag team teacher for me. Riding Keil Bay is like closing my eyes and just feeling for the magic. With Cody, I need to tune in to every part of my body. I always feel like I have more control of my legs when I ride Cody, which I think allows me more finesse in applying the aids. I suspect most of this is due to the fact that he simply isn't as broad-backed as Keil is - my pelvis doesn't have to open as wide, and it's just easier to use my legs well.
On the other hand, Keil's strides are longer and more fluid, so in that sense he's an easier horse to sit, which in some ways makes it easier to cue things. There's a longer beat in there in which I can ask. Going from Keil Bay to Cody is like inserting a fast forward button - everything goes faster on Cody, almost like I'm in a time lapse and I have to work hard to catch up to myself.
Tonight we rode after dark and instead of Keil Bay's high alert mode, I enjoyed Cody's laid back demeanor about things like dark corners, the short side by the forest, the diving of bats, and the hooting of owls.
I also discovered that Cody knows shoulder-in. I honestly can't remember how much I've worked with him on this exercise - but tonight we did it effortlessly in both directions.
We had an audience. When Keil Bay realized I was in the barn, he came in from the front field. And when he realized I was riding Cody, he met me at the arena gate and stuck his head over, pushing to come in. "You get the night off," I told him, so he went to the barn and stood in one stall, Salina stood in the one next door to him, and the donkey boys stood in the paddock, and watched us ride.
My daughter rode the pony and named all the bird calls. And tonight is the first night I heard the whippoorwill calling.
Just now, typing this, I heard something, a soft, muted sound, outside my window. I opened it up and was answered instantly - the soft, relaxed snorting of a horse. I don't know which one, and it doesn't even matter. Tonight's real lesson is this: even when the rides are wonderful, the real wonder is when they know we know they're there.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
dreams come true and wisdom teeth
Over the weekend we discovered a secret trail system that appears to be like something out of one of my dreams - remember that dream where I cleaned out a storage shed behind our house and found a secret door to an entirely unknown part of our farm? That had another extension to the barn with a huge guest quarters and full kitchen? And a swimming pool?
Well, this is just about that good. We're in the process of exploring and mapping and checking, and it appears that we can ride from many miles right from our back forty.
Right on the tail end of that discovery the for sale sign went up at a neighbor's farm. She has a huge house with gorgeous office (perfect for the work at home person or writer), 7-stall barn, fenced paddocks, and a pond, all on 10 acres. If anyone is looking, or knows anyone who is, let me know. As it turns out, the realtor listing the property is the brother of my first riding teacher. His family shepherded me into the world of horses when I was around 9 years old, and he assured me yesterday he's working hard to bring another set of wonderful neighbors to our lane.
Otherwise, Salina had her massage on Friday right after the neighborhood horse-folk brunch which took place in our barnyard. We had spinach-cheese quiche, blueberry muffins, ham and cheese croissants, cocoa-date energy bars, more cheese for slicing, freshly-brewed coffee, and horsetail tea. And we were supposed to talk about muscles in horses but ended up talking about how horses talk to us if we only know how to listen. We each gave examples of this from our own experiences - it was really wonderful.
Salina was ready and waiting when H. went in to start the massage, and by the end Salina got so relaxed her knees nearly buckled. I was thrilled - she had cantered up the front pasture earlier that day, which was also a good thing - that she is feeling good enough to spontaneously canter - so it was particularly nice to see her so appreciative and so relaxed as she got her body work.
Sometime on Friday one of my wisdom teeth started bothering me a little. It's been slightly loose for about a year now, but has never bothered me in the least until Friday. I keep pondering the metaphor in all this, but can't quite get into thinking about losing any wisdom...! Yesterday I called the dentist, they worked me in, and I walked out without that wisdom tooth! I had no idea when I went in that it would be coming out yesterday - I thought I was going in to get assessed and put on the oral surgeon's schedule for July.
Instead, my dentist, who knows what a terrible dental patient I am, said, "I can take it out right now if you want me to." I hemmed and hawed and also realized that if I let him take it out the ordeal would be OVER. No stressing for two months, no dealing with it for that long either. Something deep down in my psyche said YES, I can do this.
I reminded him that I don't even get teeth cleanings w/o drugs - and that I have a huge and unwieldy needle phobia. He reminded me that he is very gentle and that if I came in so quickly with this tooth I must be feeling okay about him. (that was a particularly savvy thing for him to have said, and likely what gave me the boost I needed to agree)
Between me saying yes and him coming at me with the needle, the assistant put the TV on the DIY channel (at my direction) and I sat watching men re-doing a back yard complete with hand drills and screws screaming into big hunks of wood. It was not the best choice but on the other hand it sort of made everything in the dentist's office pale by comparison. I ended up taking the straps of my Ariat horsey bag used as purse, holding them like the reins of a double bridle, and riding myself through the needles and the procedure.
I focused on being very careful with the curb rein, and also managed to squeeze the finger and then the wrist of the assistant as my mouth was fully numbed. When he came back to check, I still had a little feeling at the root of the tooth, so he came at me with the needle again. I rode right through it.
And when he came back the next time he stuck something into my mouth and 5 seconds later the tooth was lying on the tray. At that point I was in such shock that it had been so easy I could barely speak.
In 30 minutes I was driving home. Once again horses guided me through something I couldn't have done alone. (we all know who I was riding in that double bridle, don't we? Keil Bay and I were doing upper level dressage! No rollkur, the barest touch on those curb reins, floating movement with balance and harmony!)
I came home and took arnica, rested through the evening, slept like a log, and am now sipping chilled coffee since I can't have hot beverages today.
I feel a little bit like I've lost time this week, but now I can get back to the normal routine around here.
Well, this is just about that good. We're in the process of exploring and mapping and checking, and it appears that we can ride from many miles right from our back forty.
Right on the tail end of that discovery the for sale sign went up at a neighbor's farm. She has a huge house with gorgeous office (perfect for the work at home person or writer), 7-stall barn, fenced paddocks, and a pond, all on 10 acres. If anyone is looking, or knows anyone who is, let me know. As it turns out, the realtor listing the property is the brother of my first riding teacher. His family shepherded me into the world of horses when I was around 9 years old, and he assured me yesterday he's working hard to bring another set of wonderful neighbors to our lane.
Otherwise, Salina had her massage on Friday right after the neighborhood horse-folk brunch which took place in our barnyard. We had spinach-cheese quiche, blueberry muffins, ham and cheese croissants, cocoa-date energy bars, more cheese for slicing, freshly-brewed coffee, and horsetail tea. And we were supposed to talk about muscles in horses but ended up talking about how horses talk to us if we only know how to listen. We each gave examples of this from our own experiences - it was really wonderful.
Salina was ready and waiting when H. went in to start the massage, and by the end Salina got so relaxed her knees nearly buckled. I was thrilled - she had cantered up the front pasture earlier that day, which was also a good thing - that she is feeling good enough to spontaneously canter - so it was particularly nice to see her so appreciative and so relaxed as she got her body work.
Sometime on Friday one of my wisdom teeth started bothering me a little. It's been slightly loose for about a year now, but has never bothered me in the least until Friday. I keep pondering the metaphor in all this, but can't quite get into thinking about losing any wisdom...! Yesterday I called the dentist, they worked me in, and I walked out without that wisdom tooth! I had no idea when I went in that it would be coming out yesterday - I thought I was going in to get assessed and put on the oral surgeon's schedule for July.
Instead, my dentist, who knows what a terrible dental patient I am, said, "I can take it out right now if you want me to." I hemmed and hawed and also realized that if I let him take it out the ordeal would be OVER. No stressing for two months, no dealing with it for that long either. Something deep down in my psyche said YES, I can do this.
I reminded him that I don't even get teeth cleanings w/o drugs - and that I have a huge and unwieldy needle phobia. He reminded me that he is very gentle and that if I came in so quickly with this tooth I must be feeling okay about him. (that was a particularly savvy thing for him to have said, and likely what gave me the boost I needed to agree)
Between me saying yes and him coming at me with the needle, the assistant put the TV on the DIY channel (at my direction) and I sat watching men re-doing a back yard complete with hand drills and screws screaming into big hunks of wood. It was not the best choice but on the other hand it sort of made everything in the dentist's office pale by comparison. I ended up taking the straps of my Ariat horsey bag used as purse, holding them like the reins of a double bridle, and riding myself through the needles and the procedure.
I focused on being very careful with the curb rein, and also managed to squeeze the finger and then the wrist of the assistant as my mouth was fully numbed. When he came back to check, I still had a little feeling at the root of the tooth, so he came at me with the needle again. I rode right through it.
And when he came back the next time he stuck something into my mouth and 5 seconds later the tooth was lying on the tray. At that point I was in such shock that it had been so easy I could barely speak.
In 30 minutes I was driving home. Once again horses guided me through something I couldn't have done alone. (we all know who I was riding in that double bridle, don't we? Keil Bay and I were doing upper level dressage! No rollkur, the barest touch on those curb reins, floating movement with balance and harmony!)
I came home and took arnica, rested through the evening, slept like a log, and am now sipping chilled coffee since I can't have hot beverages today.
I feel a little bit like I've lost time this week, but now I can get back to the normal routine around here.
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