Tomorrow Salina turns 30 years old. She was born in Germany to two Hannoverians, Kurtisane and Salut, and was branded as well as entered into the Main Mare Book as she got older and went to inspections.
She was imported as a brood mare to the U.S. Somewhere along the way she was trained to at least fourth level dressage, lost an eye, and developed arthritis in both knees.
When she was 23 she came to live with us on November Hill. I have said before: I saw her photograph and fell in love with her spirit and personality, and although originally I thought she would be a therapy horse for my clients, in the end she has turned out to be a therapy horse for me.
She can be high-strung, is very opinionated, and has been high maintenance from the beginning. She gave me some of the most advanced rides of my life, taught me about hoof abscesses, senior feeds, arthritic joints, helping horses get up when they can't do it on their own, and is teaching me now about Cushing's disease.
She became, early on, my sister in spirit at the barn. If anything goes on here and I don't know about it, she tells me. She has come to my bedroom window in the night and woken me with her insistent, urgent, whinny. On many occasions I have felt pain in my own body at the site of her aches and pains.
The most important thing and the first thing she taught me was to center myself when asking for anything from a horse.
She is wise and beautiful and we love her.
Happy birthday, Salina! I'll add a birthday portrait tomorrow, but wanted to get this up today.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
first day of spring is officially here
And it has dawned colder, grayer, and much less spring-like than yesterday. So I'm going with the thought that at least here on November Hill, yesterday was the first day of spring.
It was sunny and warm without being hot. I spotted one fly but there are notably no carpenter bees out yet, which makes me wonder what winter weather we might still have in store. The carpenter bees seem pretty savvy about calling it correctly.
I woke up yesterday determined to get in a leisurely groom and ride with Keil Bay no matter what else had to go undone to make it happen. After breakfast tubs I let him eat a little hay in the barnyard while I did a few small barn chores, and then brought him to the barn aisle. He's shedding now, and his winter coat is holding on to all the dust he's packed in by rolling, so I went at him head to tail with four different combinations of brushes and curries. This felt so good to him he licked and chewed and soft-snorted with great satisfaction.
He requested a sheath cleaning and got one. He requested an under the tail cleaning and got one of those too.
He got a face wash with a warm wet cloth and even loved that!
I was happy to see healthy hooves, even with the on/off saturated ground we've endured the past two months.
Since I forgot to bring out his sheepskin saddle pad, we rode with the one dressage pad that happened to be in the tack room (I keep them inside after washing). It was the first dressage pad I bought when Keil Bay came to live with me, and it is as soft as a rag now - no tears or damage but so soft it doesn't stand up at all at the withers. I use it as a cover for his saddle when I'm washing the actual saddle cover.
But I figured it would be a good test of current saddle fit - and of general back comfort on his part.
We had a long ride at the walk with a little spontaneous trot thrown in by Keil once we'd warmed up. For the most part it was wonderful. There were no noticeable issues. The wind gusted a little as we went into the arena, but it was no big deal. Keil was soft, alert, and warmed up into a really beautiful stretching walk. We did changes of direction across the diagonals, a few 20m circles, a few 10m circles, serpentines, and just a little bit of leg yield. Everything felt terrific.
Sometimes when we ride at just the walk the entire time it feels like we're not in the arena but traveling together, on a journey out in the world someplace, alone with the landscape. There were birds singing and squirrels rustling and we watched and listened and walked on and on. The way I imagine it might have been before automobiles, when people traveled on horseback.
The only question being: do we travel well together? And yes, we did.
I was happy to see that the saddle pad didn't slip at all, and the dust pattern was balanced and even from front to back and side to side.
Most of the ride we were kept company by the handsome chestnut Cody, who stood with his head hanging over the arena fence, his eyes on us the entire time. I considered getting his halter on and letting him pony along with us, but knew he'd get his own ride later in the afternoon. It felt like he intuited that we were indeed "traveling" and wanted to be with us along the way.
It was one of those days, not unusual, where I kept noticing how handsome the Big Bay is, how expressive, how cooperative, how perfect. And on this first day of spring I feel again that I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have this horse as my equine partner.
I sure hope he feels the same about me!
It was sunny and warm without being hot. I spotted one fly but there are notably no carpenter bees out yet, which makes me wonder what winter weather we might still have in store. The carpenter bees seem pretty savvy about calling it correctly.
I woke up yesterday determined to get in a leisurely groom and ride with Keil Bay no matter what else had to go undone to make it happen. After breakfast tubs I let him eat a little hay in the barnyard while I did a few small barn chores, and then brought him to the barn aisle. He's shedding now, and his winter coat is holding on to all the dust he's packed in by rolling, so I went at him head to tail with four different combinations of brushes and curries. This felt so good to him he licked and chewed and soft-snorted with great satisfaction.
He requested a sheath cleaning and got one. He requested an under the tail cleaning and got one of those too.
He got a face wash with a warm wet cloth and even loved that!
I was happy to see healthy hooves, even with the on/off saturated ground we've endured the past two months.
Since I forgot to bring out his sheepskin saddle pad, we rode with the one dressage pad that happened to be in the tack room (I keep them inside after washing). It was the first dressage pad I bought when Keil Bay came to live with me, and it is as soft as a rag now - no tears or damage but so soft it doesn't stand up at all at the withers. I use it as a cover for his saddle when I'm washing the actual saddle cover.
But I figured it would be a good test of current saddle fit - and of general back comfort on his part.
We had a long ride at the walk with a little spontaneous trot thrown in by Keil once we'd warmed up. For the most part it was wonderful. There were no noticeable issues. The wind gusted a little as we went into the arena, but it was no big deal. Keil was soft, alert, and warmed up into a really beautiful stretching walk. We did changes of direction across the diagonals, a few 20m circles, a few 10m circles, serpentines, and just a little bit of leg yield. Everything felt terrific.
Sometimes when we ride at just the walk the entire time it feels like we're not in the arena but traveling together, on a journey out in the world someplace, alone with the landscape. There were birds singing and squirrels rustling and we watched and listened and walked on and on. The way I imagine it might have been before automobiles, when people traveled on horseback.
The only question being: do we travel well together? And yes, we did.
I was happy to see that the saddle pad didn't slip at all, and the dust pattern was balanced and even from front to back and side to side.
Most of the ride we were kept company by the handsome chestnut Cody, who stood with his head hanging over the arena fence, his eyes on us the entire time. I considered getting his halter on and letting him pony along with us, but knew he'd get his own ride later in the afternoon. It felt like he intuited that we were indeed "traveling" and wanted to be with us along the way.
It was one of those days, not unusual, where I kept noticing how handsome the Big Bay is, how expressive, how cooperative, how perfect. And on this first day of spring I feel again that I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have this horse as my equine partner.
I sure hope he feels the same about me!
Monday, March 18, 2013
Friday, March 15, 2013
Do horses make fools of us? Or do we do that just fine by ourselves?
I commented on a blog yesterday that horses do what they do. We humans are really good at making fools of ourselves, like in the video shown of a girl hitting her horse with a crop after she fell off over a jump.
I'll state it more strongly here: horses do not make fools of us. They live under the thumb of our care, our idea of horse management, the training we put them through, and the rides we give them. For most horses in the world, they don't get a say in any of the above.
They eat what we feed them, live in the conditions we create, get training based on the "knowledge" of whatever trainer we hire or our own, and endure ride after ride in which we sit on them and expect them to carry us around arenas, over jumps, on trails, without doing any of the instinctual responses they carry in their very DNA.
If we come off over a jump, if we come off during a spook, if we don't win the blue ribbon, if the horse doesn't go forward, if the horse chews something we value, if the horse kicks in a stall door, if the horse develops vices due to being bored our of his mind, or kept in perpetual pain due to untreated injuries/conditions - whatever the horse does or does not do, our response to that is in fact OUR RESPONSIBILITY.
And if we choose to act like fools, then guess what? We are fools.
The horse has nothing to do with it.
There is no excuse for going after a horse with a crop or whip or any other object. NONE.
I've smacked rumps and necks and shoulders with the palm of my hand, and I'm not proud of that. There are better ways to deal with issues, mostly boundary issues, that come up between horses and riders. I've tossed an empty water bucket at the pony's butt when he whirled it at me one time and I'm not proud of that either.
But I have never, ever, nor can I imagine doing it, taken a whip or a crop and gone at a horse with it. If your anger gets to that point you need to step way back and take a good hard look at your own anger issue, because you do have one.
Pretending this kind of outburst is a one-time thing simply perpetuates the behavior. We who ride horses, live with horses, love the things that our horses allow us to do, like enter shows and win ribbons and trophies, have a responsibility to report the behavior of fools when we see it.
Show the horror you feel. Speak out to the rider. "Stop hitting that horse" is simple and direct, and even if you aren't prepared to intervene further, it lets everyone in the area know that what you are seeing is not okay. Report to the show manager. Nothing is gained by walking past and hoping it's a one-time thing.
The truth about horses is that they teach us about ourselves. They teach many of us that we too have the capacity to act like fools. They teach some that they have deep and underlying issues that need to be addressed with a mental health professional.
If we take responsibility for the times we act like fools, we become better people. And that's a gift our horses give to us. We should treat them like princesses and kings. We should throw the whip away and say THANK YOU. Thank you for helping me learn who I am and who I want to become.
I'll state it more strongly here: horses do not make fools of us. They live under the thumb of our care, our idea of horse management, the training we put them through, and the rides we give them. For most horses in the world, they don't get a say in any of the above.
They eat what we feed them, live in the conditions we create, get training based on the "knowledge" of whatever trainer we hire or our own, and endure ride after ride in which we sit on them and expect them to carry us around arenas, over jumps, on trails, without doing any of the instinctual responses they carry in their very DNA.
If we come off over a jump, if we come off during a spook, if we don't win the blue ribbon, if the horse doesn't go forward, if the horse chews something we value, if the horse kicks in a stall door, if the horse develops vices due to being bored our of his mind, or kept in perpetual pain due to untreated injuries/conditions - whatever the horse does or does not do, our response to that is in fact OUR RESPONSIBILITY.
And if we choose to act like fools, then guess what? We are fools.
The horse has nothing to do with it.
There is no excuse for going after a horse with a crop or whip or any other object. NONE.
I've smacked rumps and necks and shoulders with the palm of my hand, and I'm not proud of that. There are better ways to deal with issues, mostly boundary issues, that come up between horses and riders. I've tossed an empty water bucket at the pony's butt when he whirled it at me one time and I'm not proud of that either.
But I have never, ever, nor can I imagine doing it, taken a whip or a crop and gone at a horse with it. If your anger gets to that point you need to step way back and take a good hard look at your own anger issue, because you do have one.
Pretending this kind of outburst is a one-time thing simply perpetuates the behavior. We who ride horses, live with horses, love the things that our horses allow us to do, like enter shows and win ribbons and trophies, have a responsibility to report the behavior of fools when we see it.
Show the horror you feel. Speak out to the rider. "Stop hitting that horse" is simple and direct, and even if you aren't prepared to intervene further, it lets everyone in the area know that what you are seeing is not okay. Report to the show manager. Nothing is gained by walking past and hoping it's a one-time thing.
The truth about horses is that they teach us about ourselves. They teach many of us that we too have the capacity to act like fools. They teach some that they have deep and underlying issues that need to be addressed with a mental health professional.
If we take responsibility for the times we act like fools, we become better people. And that's a gift our horses give to us. We should treat them like princesses and kings. We should throw the whip away and say THANK YOU. Thank you for helping me learn who I am and who I want to become.
Tuesday, March 05, 2013
inching toward spring
It's been crazy busy around here, but as we inch toward spring, with purple crocuses and daffodils and the few remaining maple trees on our farm in full bloom, we're also dealing with more cold, wet weather. It feels like winter has dug in to stay for awhile.
It has been alternating between cold wet days and cold windy days, and neither hold much appeal for me when it comes to riding. Cody has been on again, off again with the abscess, but has had three really sound days in a row so daughter hopped on today and put him back into work.
Foxhunting season ended with a fun Hunter Trial this past weekend. Daughter competed in the same class as last year and was in first place right to the very end, when her mare had a little meltdown and they dropped to fifth for the pink ribbon. It was great fun watching the classes and even tromping back and forth to the Port-A-Potty wasn't too bad.
My son got his first college acceptance this week, so we're all thinking of what this means: in the fall, he will be moving into his first dorm room, and it is going to be so strange not having him here. Meanwhile, though, he's rehearsing Hedda Gabler for an April performance and his Ethics Bowl team is going to the Nationals in April after winning a recent invitational.
All this to say it's been a busy year thus far. I'll be glad when things quiet down a bit and the weather eases up and I can get back into the riding groove with Keil Bay.
In other news, Salina is on a trial of Pergolide (she's not quite on a full dose yet, but I *think* I'm seeing some positive response) and the kittens are scheduled for spaying/neutering next week. I can't believe they're already that grown up!
Redford turned 5 years old a few weeks back and that too blows my mind. We have a whole string of birthdays coming up: Cody and Salina in March, and Keil Bay and Apache in April.
Right now it's hard to imagine full-blown spring. In spite of the flowering, when I look out the window I still see the browns and grays and bare branches of the winter season. And the wood stove is in almost continual use these days.
How is everyone else faring as we edge up to spring? It's not my favorite season but I am actually looking forward to it this year.
It has been alternating between cold wet days and cold windy days, and neither hold much appeal for me when it comes to riding. Cody has been on again, off again with the abscess, but has had three really sound days in a row so daughter hopped on today and put him back into work.
Foxhunting season ended with a fun Hunter Trial this past weekend. Daughter competed in the same class as last year and was in first place right to the very end, when her mare had a little meltdown and they dropped to fifth for the pink ribbon. It was great fun watching the classes and even tromping back and forth to the Port-A-Potty wasn't too bad.
My son got his first college acceptance this week, so we're all thinking of what this means: in the fall, he will be moving into his first dorm room, and it is going to be so strange not having him here. Meanwhile, though, he's rehearsing Hedda Gabler for an April performance and his Ethics Bowl team is going to the Nationals in April after winning a recent invitational.
All this to say it's been a busy year thus far. I'll be glad when things quiet down a bit and the weather eases up and I can get back into the riding groove with Keil Bay.
In other news, Salina is on a trial of Pergolide (she's not quite on a full dose yet, but I *think* I'm seeing some positive response) and the kittens are scheduled for spaying/neutering next week. I can't believe they're already that grown up!
Redford turned 5 years old a few weeks back and that too blows my mind. We have a whole string of birthdays coming up: Cody and Salina in March, and Keil Bay and Apache in April.
Right now it's hard to imagine full-blown spring. In spite of the flowering, when I look out the window I still see the browns and grays and bare branches of the winter season. And the wood stove is in almost continual use these days.
How is everyone else faring as we edge up to spring? It's not my favorite season but I am actually looking forward to it this year.
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