donkeys gone wild

Yesterday afternoon I was in the small barnyard giving the Big Bay a bath. I had the barn doors closed so the donkeys and Salina were in the barn aisle with access to one stall and the big barnyard, which is their usual hang-out at that time of day during this time of year.

Cody and the pony were in the bare paddock, with access to their stalls and the back field. The sun was shining, the afternoon was quiet, and all was peaceful. I scrubbed the Big Bay with a soapy sponge, thinking how nice it was to be out there with all the animals surrounding me. What a peaceful scene! Everyone was right where they were supposed to be. Or so I thought.

My daughter came out from the house and then she came running through the barn exclaiming, "Redford just galloped out of the barn with a lead rope in his mouth!"

I laughed and told her to go get a picture. A few minutes later she came back. "The donkeys are gone!"

I had just finished rinsing Keil Bay, so I scraped him down and went to help her find them. Salina was walking around the big barnyard calling madly to her donkey boys. They weren't answering.

My daughter had gone down through the gate to the front, thinking they might have gone through the stile.

I walked to the arena, and as I looked for them, noticed the gate to the labyrinth path was open. Husband must have left it when he took wheelbarrows down!

I called to my daughter and we went down the path. Along the way we found the green lead rope, stretched out at full length as though Redford had dropped it in full gallop and it had fallen as he ran.

We went all the way down, and there in the midst of the extravagantly green and tall grass that is now taking over the labyrinth area, were two donkeys. Those long ears were the first thing I saw.

They both looked at me, alert, and for a split-second I thought they might run to get away - but they didn't. Rafer started walking toward me, and Redford followed. I gave them a rub and directed Rafer to head back up the path.

"Your mama is calling," I told him. "Head back to the barn."

He did, but Redford decided he wasn't done exploring. Daughter had to head him off and get him back on the path. Then Rafer helped out and herded Redford up the hill, keeping him on the straight and narrow.

They started running.

Up top, when they saw Salina waiting, they slowed to a walk and got in a proper donkey line. You have never seen anything so cute. Rafer Johnson in front, followed by Redford, a slow walk like two kids who got caught in the cookie jar, walking toward the mama who was going to give them a lecture. Ears were sideways, heads hung just a little. Of course Salina was so glad to see them no lecture happened, at least not that I could hear!

By the time we got back, Keil Bay had rolled, Cody was hanging his head over the gate asking for his own bath, and the pony was standing at the paddock fence looking totally disgusted. You could see exactly what he was thinking. "If that had been ME, I'd be walking around on a lead line right now, yielding this way and that. Those donkeys get away with EVERYthing!"

a day of writing with horses and sand

A Day of Writing With Horses and Sand

(no experience with horses necessary, no mounted work)

Two dates available: Friday May 29th OR Saturday May 30th (you are welcome to register for both days if you like)

10 a.m. - 4 p.m.

Come to November Hill and work on poetry, fiction, nonfiction, journalling, or anything you like, in the company of horses, miniature donkeys, and myself.

Schedule for these days:

10 - 10:30: introductions and intentions for the day

10:30 - 12: time with horses and donkeys

12 - 1: writing time (you may work on your own or do guided writing with me)

1 - 2: lunch - bring your own, beverages provided - with discussion

2 - 4: time with the sandtrays


Cost: $75 for the day (reduced this year to help with budgeting in these tighter times)

Email to register HERE

foreshadowing summer

This is what greeted me this evening when I went out to the barn, a big giant rune in the sky:



And then the donkey boys, who see a camera and here they come:



It should be spring.

We've had our annual sprinkle of April birthdays: husband, Keil Bay, Apache Moon, and my daughter's is soon to arrive. The baby birds in the barn erupt in a fit of chirping every time we make a sound. We're on our second batch of fly predators.

The carpenter bees are buzzing, insects humming, and green explodes around us in every direction.

But we're into a string of 90 degree days right now, and it feels a LOT like summer already.

Today the big industrial fans got taken down, cleaned, and put back up with new baling twine. The horses came in and I am pretty sure I heard Keil Bay heave a sigh of relief when the fans came on. They're like big sound machines, almost like the roar of surf. When you're inside the barn on a hot day, with the fans going, it's like being on a big ship sailing for a distant destination, motor churning softly, far away from the hustle and bustle of the regular world.

The morning routine now includes feeding, checking for ticks, rinsing any bites or scrapes with calendula tincture in cool water, and then a quick brushing and fly spraying.

The horses go back out after breakfast until the heat of the day arrives, when they wander in again to find clean stalls, fans, hay, and fresh buckets of water. If you go out between 2-3 p.m. you are likely to find Keil Bay stretched out snoring. Other times you find horses playing musical stalls, and Salina and the donkeys are likely to be standing in the barn aisle.

Around 5-6 p.m. they head back to the field, rested and ready to enjoy the onset of evening.

In the next week or so we'll be getting eastern encephalitis shots and updated Coggins, and they'll all have their teeth checked to see who, if anyone, needs floating.

I'm excited to have a new homeopathic remedy from our vet this year, for use on the day of shots to help ameliorate side effects.

Riding needs to be done either first thing in the morning, or well after sunset. I hope to try out the new Cool Medic vest this year, which you soak down with water, squeeze out, and then wear. Supposedly it keeps you cool as a cucumber, which will make riding so much easier on these hot days.

I think we're all hoping this is an aberration, and that we get at least another month of spring before summer arrives. Meanwhile, there are cat and corgi bodies laid out like little throw rugs all over the house, I have put in the annual Lands End sandal order, and I'm counting down the days to Thursday, when the local farmers' market will surely be bursting with locally grown bounty for easy summer meals.

tree of life Bay

This morning in my email inbox, I found the most lovely photo of Keil Bay, titled Handsome Bay, from my husband, who must have snuck this photo in sometime over the past week or so.

I kept looking at it in between checking email, reading blogs, etc. and then I saw the real picture within the picture.

It's Keil Bay, with the tree of life coming right up out of his back. What an amazing photo, and so very appropriate for my handsome, amazing horse. Thanks, Matthew.

the photos to go with the post

Free walking at home the day before:



Warming up at the show:





Waiting to ride the test:



In the arena:





The first ribbon (the second one was white and made a nice pair!)



And the best part of all comes after the work is done: