Leah Fry - Barn Door Tagz - Horses and Life

Real Life Intervenes

2012-01-29T15:45:00.000-06:00

As you know, we here in Texas have been praying for rain to help assuage 2+ years of drought conditions. Our lake (Lake Ray Roberts) is almost 4.5 ft. low. We were very excited when Mother Nature complied last week to the tune of 4" of rain. Our land drains well, so we accepted every drop without qualms.

Only downside is that parts of Heather's place, including the arena, tend to hold water for a good while, so no riding this weekend. I did, however, spend about an hour with the Boyz today. It was a de-mudding and carrot eating session, but I'll take what I can get.

The rain meant that the greater part of the weekend could be devoted to Mr. Fry's and my rather ambitious project: ripping the carpet out of all 4 bedrooms and replacing it with drop-and-lock laminate flooring. Words cannot describe how disgusting that 12-year old carpet is. Animals in the house — 'nuff said. We are taking our time, using the opportunity to paint the rooms when there's no need to mask or use drop cloths. And we're doing it "nice and friendly," as we say around here, so we don't cripple ourselves.

Once we got all our questions answered and it all made sense to us, we found it's really not so bad. Heck, I'm even out there using the big power saw. I still have all my fingers, too.

We started with our son's old bedroom. We are very pleased with the results.

I am also using this opportunity to clean out closets and get rid of excess accumulated stuff. I've been wanting to do this for years. That much trash makes Mr. Fry twitchy, for some reason. I am much less sentimental about keeping stuff than he is.

What are y'all up to?

Blown Away

2012-01-22T18:15:00.000-06:00

After a damp, foggy, gray beginning, the day turned out to be warm and gorgeous. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and a high temp of 73°F. And then the wind picked up. No, I mean really picked up. There were gusts up to about 45 mph. It wasn't cold, but I feel like I got free micro-dermabrasion.

There were six of us riding today. You may remember that Chris, Rachel's husband, had a bad fall about a month ago and he's still feeling the effects of that, so he and Heather sat it out while the rest of us headed out into the big pasture.

Dr. Erin grooming the Percheron mare Midnight

Keeley (grey) and her daughter Ishka

From left: McKenna grooming Poko

(camped out because I just stretched his hips),

Ash, and Jazu

You can come next year, Rico.

If you look a-wayyy out in front of us,

you can see Nita in the red shirt on Keeley

and Sarah on Ishka.

After we were done riding and I had treated Jaz's sarcoid (Xxterra) and hand grazed him, this happened. I had Daltrey tied to the chute, about to pick his feet, when a big gust of wind picked up a blanket draped over the other side at the same time a wall of sand blew over us and a mean trash can threatened to eat him. I saw the panic attack coming a split second before it happened and was able to jump out of the way as he pulled back, bringing the chute with him for about a foot or so, and tipping my loaded tack cart. I'm glad the halter did what it was supposed to do, and no one was hurt. A few cookies and I was able to lead him back over to where we were and convince him nothing would eat him.

Another excellent day with my barn buddies and our noble steeds. I hope your pony time this weekend was as enjoyable.

Walk on the Wild Side

2012-01-15T18:36:00.001-06:00

Well, on the wild side of the pasture at Iron Ridge, anyway.

Jaz has been bored, bored, bored with riding in the arena. How do I know? When I tack him up, he dances, tosses his head, most notably when I tighten the girth. When they were home and we went down the road, I didn't get that. He's also been pulling toward the arena gate, petering out after a few steps, or just stopping at random. Of course, I make him mind and do what I ask, but to tell you the truth, I'm a little bored with it, too.

Small pony party today, so we headed out into the main pasture at the farm. Heather moved the geldings into the arena and moved the rest of the herd into the pen where the geldings normally are. This is wise, because the boss mare is not known for her sense of humor when there are mares involved. Sara and Rachel were riding mares.

My favorite view.

That's Heather on Poko following Rachel and Moon ...

... joined by Sara on Ishka (in the middle).

I had a great time, and I think the horses did, too, in spite of the crazy wind. There are still plenty of holes out there caused by the drought, but there were no mishaps. And get this: Jaz walked through water! That's a first for Mr. Prissy Feet. I think the only reason he did it is because Moon and Poko did. And he watched his feet with every step.

Sara graciously took these pix of Daltrey and me.

I look better in this one, but the one below is the

better shot of the horse.

I wanted you to get a good idea of his size.

I am about 5'3".

He will be 2 years old in March.

Isn't he stunning?
Well, as stunning as an awkward youngster can be LOL!

How's it going in your neck of the woods? I hope y'all are staying warm and able to get in some time on your ponies.

First Ride of 2012

2012-01-08T19:29:00.000-06:00

Packed house, so to speak, today at Iron Ridge. In attendance were Heather (of course), Jae (who didn't ride), Kris and Dr. Erin, who brought young ladies Steph and McKenna, Rachel and Sarah. Rachel's hubby Chris couldn't join us because he took a nasty spill — his first real one — from the green Sugarbush mare, Sweetie (O Sweet Surprise) yesterday. We send healing vibes his way.

LOVE my new tack cart. One trip to and from the truck.

There's a weather front headed in (RAIN!) and all the horses were a little "whack." Most of them just didn't want to work. Even Jaz was kind of a stinker, pulling toward the gate, petering out after a few strides, etc. Kris's Voodoo was downright scary, and she wisely decided to get off and longe him. Diesel, the OTB gelding, hopped and Steph came off. Scared her, but she's okay. McKenna rode Jaz's brother Boo, who was being as much of a toot as Jaz, Heather, who had been riding Poko, got on Boo to make him mind, and McKenna rode Poko, who behaved admirably with the newbie. He's come such a long way.

Hope the forecast does not disappoint. Last I heard, there was an 80% chance of rain Monday-Tuesday. Rain makes the grass grow and that means I can bring the Boyz back to visit sooner.

Though the weather outside is crappy,

The rain still makes me happy.

So even if it's a pain,

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain.

An Abrupt Departure

2012-01-02T18:35:00.003-06:00

We had planned for the Boyz to be home until this coming weekend, but 'twas not to be. I had been feeding them (a complete pelleted feed) at least twice a day and offering them timothy alfalfa, and they've been eating every bit of it for two days. Prior to that, they ate the feed but only picked at the alfalfa. They had the place pretty well eaten down, and to keep them here any longer would do more damage to the fragile land. It's not only a question of the land sustaining them (grazing), it's that the sparse ground can't take the pounding from their hooves, them rolling, etc. So we made a quick decision to take them back to Iron Ridge today, as it's the last day of staycation for both of us.

Wag your anti-anthropomorphism finger all day long, but Jaz knew and he did not want to get in that trailer. Contrast that to him walking right in when we were at the farm bound for here. Breaks my heart.

They are so obviously happy or content or relaxed here – whatever term you deem appropriate to describe such equine behavior.

Every horse I've ever brought here has reacted positively to the small herd/large open space, relaxed atmosphere.

Please don't read into these statements that my horses – or any horses – are not well cared for at the farm, because they are. It's just a completely different environment. I liken it to the department in which I used to work with 25 people in low-walled call center type cubicles. Now I work in an area where there are only 7 of us in the office full time and we're spread out in larger, high-walled cubicles. Words can hardly describe how much happier I am.

We're going to work on the land as best we can this year in the hope that the horses can come back to visit more often. Dear God, please send rain – lots of it.

Rockin' Down the Road

2011-12-30T13:49:00.000-06:00

Jazu the Wonder Pony at the honey hole

With a high today in the lower 70s, it was perfect for a ride down our old familiar road. Jaz and I haven't done this ride since last spring, but he was a champ. He remembered where The Usual Suspects (madly barking dogs) were and marched right on past. There were even 2 new little yapping dogs running loose that ran after and he stayed completely calm. Stupid people. Good way to a) have a lawsuit brought against you if I come off my horse or b) get your dogs killed because you're in violation of the rule about no loose dogs.

And while we're on the subject of stupid people, whatever happened to common courtesy? We live on a narrow 2-lane road, and people were flying past us. I kept motioning for people to slow down and was getting the dirtiest looks. Jaz is good with cars, but there's no sense tempting fate. I don't understand what it would hurt to slow down a little – you don't have to brake, just take your foot off the gas for a second. I'm sure they would expect similar courtesy from me if I came upon them walking or their kid on a bike.

But enough of that. Great relaxing ride down our road, and I hope to get in another before the Boyz go back to Iron Ridge next week.

Happy New Year to all!

Forever Afternoon

2011-12-28T08:48:00.000-06:00

Tuesday afternoon.
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

— "The Afternoon: Forever Afternoon" by the Moody Blues

from their 1967 album "Days of Future Passed"

It was the very sort of winter day that serves as a reminder of why we put up with those 106° days during the summer: sunny without a cloud in the sky, with temps in the upper 50s. Perfect spa day.

I don't know what a spa is, but it's putting Jaz to sleep.

Not me. I'm wide awake.

Strange, but all of a sudden a nap does sound kinda nice.

Can't. Stop. Yawning.

Wow. They even serve lunch.

Feeling refreshed. How about a rousing game of bite-the face?

Ha! Jaz thinks he's gonna bust a move on me.

I'll get you, old man.

Squirrel!

I only asked for a trim, but she cut off about 6".

Still, it's a nice facility. Look at all this clover!

The sun felt so amazing that Mr. Fry and I fetched chairs and beer to survey our kingdom and contemplate our takeover of the world. Another great day to be alive.

My Awesome Christmas Present

2011-12-26T14:06:00.000-06:00

One of my least favorite things to do is lugging tack from my truck to wherever it is I'll be tacking Jaz up, which is usually the chute at the farm. I pull my truck close to it, make multiple trips to get all my junk out, then park my truck. After the ride, most times I take Jaz over to the truck, tack him down, tossing gear inside as I go. But I still will have stuff lingering by the chute and usually at least 2 trips back and forth.

Not any more.

Ta-daaa!

The back "leg" folds in the direction indicated

and clips to the diagonal bar when you're pulling it.

It all collapses down ...

... for easy transport and storage!

If you're interested:

http://www.chicksaddlery.com/page/CDS/PROD/SR9114

Time it right and you can even get free shipping.

Home for the Holidays

2011-12-23T19:15:00.001-06:00

For the first time since May, Jaz and Daltrey are home. Although not anywhere near recovered from the drought, we felt like the land could tolerate them for a week or so. I have the sheer joy of being able to look out my windows and see ponies pigging out or playing, and I can walk out and spoil them any time I want. Bliss.

Both of them walked into the trailer calmly the first time, with no bribes needed. This was Daltrey's first ride while tied and he rode like a champ, despite the fact that there was nothing in the hay bag to keep him occupied. This was also his first time to be backed out of the trailer. He hesitated and wanted to come back in when that first hind foot hit air, but he listened and exited quietly.

Not great forage, but certainly better than it was.

There are a few patches of winter rye like this.

Jaz kept heaving huge sighs.

Mostly, it looks like this.

This is mostly clover with other weeds,

some of which they eat, some not.

But there are still quite a few places that look like this.

Turn the sound way up.

I've never seen him eat so fast.

I have off the week between Christmas and New Year to enjoy them.
Maybe I'll even take that dirty grey one down the road.

An Apology for Grooming

2011-12-18T15:22:00.003-06:00

a•pol•o•gy | əˈpäləjē|
noun
1 a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or failure
2 a very poor or inadequate example of
3 a reasoned argument or writing in justification of something, typically a theory

My barn buddies have dubbed me the Grooming Queen.

I usually fetch and start prepping my horse well before everyone else because it takes me that much longer to get ready to ride. I hold the opinion that grooming is one of the most important things we do for our horses for so many more reasons than merely making them pretty.

What do you mean, I'm a mess? Is that bad?

I didn't mean it, honest.

The goober he is.

Mmm, your hands smell like ... carrots and cookies!

The beautiful boy he is becoming.

Back in my newbie days, I was clueless as to the nature of horses, and I had no idea how to handle my inaptly chosen first horse. I was unprepared for how BIG they are and how fast they can move. Heather's sage advice: only do what you're comfortable doing. For awhile, grooming was the only thing I was comfortable doing, so I did it a lot. It helped my horse and me relax and get to know each other. It helped me learn how to move him and teach him basic commands such as stand, step, over and eventually lift. It helped me teach him manners and patience.

Grooming has also helped me to know my horses' bodies and accustom them to being touched all over. It's useful in winter to help find wounds, skin conditions, lumps and bumps, etc. that you can't see when they're all woolly. My first clue that something was wrong with Jaz (ultimately strongyles) was that he flinched when pressure was applied to a spot in the middle of his back where there was no wound, no mark, no bruise. That's also how I found the little sarcoid on his chest.

And finally, there is nothing like those huge sighs of relaxation and pleasure that you get for your efforts. As far as I'm concerned, grooming is good for the equine and the human soul.

Grey Winter's Day

2011-12-11T17:12:00.001-06:00

Finally got a ride in today after a 3 week hiatus due to either rain or the arena still being too wet to ride. The arena was tilled deeply but not finely, and the horses were a bit put out that they actually had to pick up their feet. I think we all kept it at walk-trot.

This was also a chance to use my new Nikon S9100.

I'm very pleased with this camera so far. I debated as to whether to upgrade to a SLR, but when I really thought about how I take photos, a P&S just makes more sense for me. This one is exceeding my expectations. It's FAST, as in zero lag time between the time you hit the button and your image appears onscreen. 12.1 megapixels with an 18x zoom — now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about. It has a wide variety of automated settings, or you can program it. It's almost like a hybrid between a P&S and a SLR. All these images are right out of the camera, with the exception of being downsized and optimized for fast loading on the web.

Jaz wasn't happy about having to give up his new blanket.

Looking rather svelte — no more pregnant gelding.

Rachel and Moon

Chris showing Poko what a lance is all about for SCA games.

I was at the end of the lead rope when I took this.

Sure you can't get any more in your mouth, Jaz?

Heather and Poko

Amber

Kris and Voodoo

It was cold for us wimpy Texans, but great to see my ponies and my pony pals.

What's up with y'all? Got all your Christmas shopping done?

Marking Milestones

2011-11-25T11:32:00.001-06:00

It was the day after Thanksgiving 2006 when my adventures with horses officially began.

That's the day I brought Poco home.

I had purchased him a month earlier,

but we had fencing to do

before we could bring him here.

I was so lucky to also meet

my wonderful friends and mentors

from Iron Ridge Sport Horses.

I'm thankful for them every day.

Jaz joined us in early January of 2007.

Poco was so happy to have a friend.

I was delighted to have a horse I could actually ride.

Although I was already completely smitten and

trying desperately to talk myself out of it in June 2010,

I eventually bowed to the inevitable and

Daltrey came home in October,

when he was 8 months old.

Look how little he was!

(Look how green it was back there!)

In February of 2011, I made the decision to sell Poco.

It worked out better than I could have hoped,

since his new home is none other than Iron Ridge,

where he gets the snot worked out of him.

Jaz loves being my main man.

It makes my heart sing when he whinnies at my arrival.

I regret every second I took him for granted.

Daltrey,

(shown here with Joker's White Russian aka 'Red'),

is growing like crazy, becoming a fine young man.
I'm very proud of him.

It may have taken 49 years for me to get my pony,

but it's never too late.

"Don’t be afraid of the space

between your dreams and reality.

If you can dream it, you can make it so."

— Belva Davis

Big Ol' Truck

2011-11-20T08:17:00.002-06:00

Big ol' truck
10 feet tall and 10 feet wide
It's a big ol' truck
Here she come again man

— 'Big Ol' Truck by Toby Keith from his 1994 album 'Boomtown'

I got my first horse in 2006, but I didn't get my vintage 70's stock trailer until the following year. I was driving a new Ford Explorer, and Mr. Fry was and still is driving a 2000 Nissan Frontier light truck. I hated the Explorer and have been driving a Nissan Pathfinder since late 2007. It has a back-up camera and I can usually hitch the trailer on the first try.

Both Nissans will pull the trailer and 2 horses, but with only 6 cylinders, you wouldn't want to do it very far. I don't trailer them anywhere else except back and forth to the farm (about a 15-min. ride) and the vet (a little over a mile) but even less now that the Boyz are living at the farm.

We both commute 40+ miles to our jobs, so gas mileage has to be a consideration in our choice of everyday vehicles. Another consideration is a good, sturdy vehicle that can handle highway speed and is heavy enough to offer some protection in the event of a mishap. The Nissans have served us well in their dual duties, but we have been wanting a heavier duty truck for a long time. Until a couple months ago, the economy had put the kabosh on that because even though the Nissans are both paid for, we couldn't take on a car payment. We also wanted to keep our other vehicles, so no trade-in.

Then Mr. Fry went online and found this in San Antonio. And the price was right.

It's a 2005 V-8 Chevy Silverado in pristine condition inside and out. We think it was owned by a young Texas stud muffin for a number of reasons, including a kick-ass stereo and an after-market satellite radio. It also has a nice bed liner and a diamond tread finish tool box. It's a long way up for me.

It's easy to get going way faster than you should, especially with that stereo cranked. Mr. Fry and I have a bet: first one to get a speeding ticket in it has to buy the other one dinner. I plan on being at the receiving end of that wager.

Paybacks for Summer Heat

2011-11-13T18:02:00.000-06:00

Today was the kind of day for which we Texans cling to hope while in the throes of triple-digit summers: beautiful blue skies, friendly, fluffy clouds, a light breeze and temps in the low 80s. Almost Thanksgiving and here we were in jeans and tees. I freakin' love it.

Jaz has been such a good sport as he teaches me to canter, but I know he's bored with the arena. So today the first part of our ride was in what we call the house pen at the farm. It's usually where the geldings and newbies are kept, but today, everybody was elsewhere. The last time we tried to ride this pasture, the cracks in the earth were dangerously deep from the drought, but today it was in fairly good shape except for a few holes, which were clearly visible. We even did a few strides of cantering while out there. It kind of scares me a little outside the arena because Jaz is ungraceful on his best day, and he's seriously overdue for a trim, so he's already kind of tripping over his own feet. Heather's been having trouble getting on Jon's schedule.

Heather rode the amazonian Midnight the Percheron, Sarah rode Nita's App mare Ishka, and Kris rode her Saddlebred Voodoo. Kris was trying new headgear on Voodoo, so she stayed in the arena, and we joined them after awhile. They all make me smile, because they kept making me canter some more because they "missed that time." Right. We're still only going about a half dozen steps at a time, we're just doing it more often. Although my seat feels secure, I'm still not getting the cuing or steering thing consistently, but we're getting better. And, most importantly, I'm having a great time.

The new baby boy at the farm is adorable. If you haven't read about Joker's White Russian (Red), do be sure to catch up on Heather's blog. He is two months younger than Daltrey and makes my baby moose look positively petite. Daltrey is enjoying having a boy his own age that also doesn't understand what the big deal is about running. That said, after our ride, I put Daltrey, Jaz and Red in the arena and got them going, which was a lot of fun to watch. Poor Red is seriously out of shape, if in fact he ever was in shape.

The perfect ending to a perfect afternoon was sitting in the driveway, catching rays and drinking beer with Mr. Fry.

What's shakin' with y'all?

Me Upon My Pony

2011-11-04T05:16:00.000-05:00

No boat.

The weather has been crisp and cool with a enough rain to elicit hope, but that's about all you can say. I will never complain about rain again. I will gratefully accept having any and all plans called because of rain. Many people I've talked to have reached the same conclusion we have: the land will not fully recover from the drought without human intervention. I'm glad the horses aren't here or it would be a catastrophe. Mr. Fry planted a ton of grass, but it's not the lush winter carpet we were hoping for.

Jaz is still teaching me to canter. Thank goodness he's a great teacher and I am teachable. Last time I rode, we cantered the length of the arena, the farthest yet. It's still such a rush for me, I'm trembling when we stop. I am finding the experience similar to when we trotted in that I can't really think about much else yet besides staying on, so it's not pretty. Jaz has finally decided I really do mean it when I ask for it, but works very hard to keep me up there. I love that horse.

With the cold snap comes a touch of worry for my delicate grey flower, who doesn't tolerate sudden drops in temperature well. Poco was still here last winter and tore Jaz's blanket (for about the zillionth time) to the point where I'm going to seek professional help to fix it. (BTW, Poco's blanket remains pristine even after all these years.) Those blankets were inexpensive 400 denier Paul Taylor specials. While fine for most, Jaz needs something warmer, although I will keep the old one, which will fit Daltrey in no time ... well, for a day or so, at least.

I decided on this one, which is 1200 denier and waterproof, and even came with a storage bag. Red is Jaz's new color. Daltrey's is blue to match those amazing eyes, but he gets hand-me-downs until he stops growing.

Daltrey is doing great, growing like the proverbial weed and acting for all the world like a doofy, snotty two-year old. We continue to work on the basics. I had ordered a John Lyon's book of baby training exercises, but Amazon canceled it due to supplier issues. Well, dang. Guess I'll continue to make this up as I go.

I hope y'all (and your ponies) are staying warm, having fun, staying safe. What's everybody up to these days?

It Wasn't a Fluke!

2011-10-22T20:20:00.002-05:00

Things always work out in exactly the way they are supposed to. This morning, I was wide awake at 5am and rather than fight it, I just got up. What a perfectly beautiful morning it was! And the good news is that all my chores were done by about 10:15am.

It developed into a cloudless and sunny day, with temps in the 80s, but there is a 60% chance of rain tonight and tomorrow. Since it was so early, I loaded up and headed to Iron Ridge. Our Sunday morning pony party will likely be rained out, or so we hope.

I was not the only one trying to squeeze in a ride before the rain. Erica had already finished riding Lady by the time I got there. She stayed for about 30 minutes longer.

Heather rode Poko and I rode Jaz in the arena. I'm delighted to report that our cantering last week was not a fluke. Heather is helping me get the cuing and the timing right. What I find so odd is how much smoother Jaz's canter is than his teeth-jarring trot. I like it; I just need to get used to it. And Heather actually saw it this time. We took a few steps a couple different times. Not pretty, but it's a start.

About midway through the ride, Jaz started acting as if he were exhausted, although I hadn't ridden him hard at all. By the time I tacked him down, he seemed like he felt pretty punk. Heather gave him a cookie and he wouldn't eat it. That's a red flag for my chow hound. Heather listened to his gut and it sounded like he might have gas, so she gave him the end of a tube of Banamine. I turned him loose and he nibbled the nubs of grass poking their way though the dirt from the last rain. There's not much, but it's something to do. I thought he was feeling better ...

If 19-month old Daltrey is not as tall as Jaz, he's close. His back used to be at the level of my outstretched arm, but now, it's up. He's finally starting to look like a horse. His back used to be flat, but now you can see defined withers. His barrel has deepened. Although he almost looks a little fat in this photo, he's actually ribby and hollow-hipped from his last growth spurt. I think he will surpass Heather's height estimate (based on the length of his cannon bones at birth). He may be every bit as tall as Scorch.

By this time, Chris and Rachel arrived to visit Moon. Chris usually claims Poko, but since Heather had already ridden him, he had the honor of Moon's first ride since her rescue 5-6 weeks back. Happily, it was uneventful. He bought her from Heather for Rachel, but I don't know ... he seems pretty smitten with Moon himself.

All the horses seem to feel the change in the weather. The wind shifted and clouds began to form. Jaz was not the only horse acting "not right." After rides and grooming, we all sat down to talk I glanced over to see Jaz lying down in front of the water trough in the house pen. As we walked him back to the barn to give him a full dose of Banamine, he was farting with every step he took.

I left to get groceries on my way home and when I called to check on Jaz, Heather had also given him a little Bute, which seemed to make him more comfortable. My delicate grey flower.

Mr. Fry borrowed the Iron Ridge tractor, which has a bucket, and worked hard all day busting up the hard packed dirt and planting grass seed. I sure hope this rain doesn't miss us.

Uncharacteristic Brevity

2011-10-16T17:58:00.000-05:00

Today, Jaz & I took about a half dozen steps at the canter.

Thanks to Heather for tilling the round pen, which always gives me a bit more confidence and sense of security when trying anything. I know now that my problem has been timing. I was thinking that canter had to be faster, and so I was getting into a really fast trot and asking for the transition, and Jaz wouldn't. Today, I asked for the canter from a slower, more fluid trot. I still have to convince him I'm serious, because we've just trotted for so long. I don't blame him for not believing me. Everything else must have also been right, because after I did it once, I was unable to duplicate it.

I'm whupped and super happy.

Showing Our Appreciation

2011-10-08T19:07:00.000-05:00

I've said it many times and I'll say it once more: without Heather and her family, the good folks at Iron Ridge Sport Horses, I'd have prolly ended up dead in a ditch somewhere long ago. They have taught me everything I know and continue to teach, encourage and support not only me, but our whole group of Pony Party Pals.

Today was a day set aside to show our appreciation by having a BBQ on their behalf. Burgers, dogs, chips and soft drinks were provided, and everyone brought something or other to share. There was a great dip, dump cake, beer, and I made brownies.

And everyone came bearing gifts: buckets, hardware, vet wrap, halters, shampoo, conditioner, fly spray, brushes, dewormers, cookies, alfalfa cubes, Gatorade, etc. The most awesome gift: arena lights so we can ride at night!

Watching a minor drama unfold in the arena

Casey & Z (My D Zire — The Polecat x OK My D Lindy)

Z threw a tantrum. Casey showed him the error of his ways.

Steph and the beautiful Godiva

Even some horse hubbies showed up, including Mr. Fry. Met some nice new people, saw some folks I haven't seen in about a year, rode Jazu, played with Daltrey, had the requisite moments of pony drama (none of which involved me or my horses), ate, drank, laughed, and of course, told lies. In other words, pretty much a perfect day.

Familiarity Breeds Contentment

2011-10-02T15:26:00.000-05:00

I decided to vaccinate Daltrey against strangles because of new horses coming and going at the farm. I remember when I first met Heather and her family, they had a bout with strangles and it wasn't pretty or fun. The horses were miserable and everything had to be scrubbed with bleach. Jaz had it when he was a baby, and they build immunity, so no vaccine needed for him. Daltrey was feeling a bit under the weather immediately after the injection, but he seems to have completely recovered today.

Although it's still warm, the weather is pleasant enough to finally remind me of why I love Texas. This is by far the most gorgeous time of year. Today temps were in the 80s with a light breeze and nary a cloud in sight — a perfect day to ride.

After my totally boring (but good) ride on Jaz today, I brought Daltrey out for some patience lessons. I tied him, groomed him, picked all 4 feet, washed his face, etc. I took him in the arena and led him over the ground poles, around the barrels. We practiced walk, whoa and back. I brought him up alongside the mounting block, stood above him and leaned over him. He did well, but he's still very much a baby. He likes to chew on the lead rope and starts getting impatient after a few minutes of doing anything. Can you believe he's already 19 months old? It's gone by so fast!

Not much else going on with me or mine. Heather and Jae are on an adventure picking up a black Percheron mare. Last I heard, they had already blown 2 tires on the trailer. It may be a very long day for them. Oh well, it's good blog fodder.

Life Goes On Without Me

2011-09-25T18:59:00.002-05:00

Weekends have come and gone. Most of them find me at Iron Ridge on Sunday mornings, except for last weekend. I had some airline miles that I needed to use or lose. Since I didn't have enough for a flight, I booked a night at a nice local hotel for Mr. Fry and myself to hang out. It was wonderful, except Mr. Fry can't take the sun like I can and ended up blistering. Not pretty.

Most of the time, I'm fine with my horses being at Iron Ridge. After all, I can only ride on the weekends anyway, and that's where my friends hang out. The sad truth is, I ride mostly on Sundays only, because Saturdays are generally spent doing the things that allow us to live comfortably indoors and keep the Board of Heath at bay. Now that the weather has begun to cool, I miss being able to jump on Jaz and take off down the road on a whim. But it still hasn't really rained. We've had a few showers, but it would take more than a foot of rain to bring us back from drought stage. The land has not improved, not even a little. So, at Iron Ridge they stay until such time as we feel the land can handle a visit from them.

Today was Pony Party and shot day for my Boyz. I bought the vaccines last week and Heather administered them. We put Daltrey in a stall and he didn't even stop eating his breakfast as Heather stuck him. It was a different story when we checked on him a few hours later. Nothing to be concerned about, but he was hanging out quietly, facing the back of the stall. When I spoke to him, he stiffly turned toward me.

Jaz was perfect, albeit a bit lazy, on our ride. We went about as fast as you can go at a trot without breaking into a canter. We're SO close! To be honest, I think I'd feel more secure if we were in the round pen rather than the arena, but either way, it WILL happen. Jaz got his shots after our ride, and was showing no ill effects when I left.

I seriously thought about shutting the blog down this week due to lack of compelling content. It's not the same when I'm not interacting with the horses daily. I decided to hang in there for awhile because Daltrey is now 19 months old and it won't be long until his adventures truly begin. Thanks to all who have continued to hang in there with me. I appreciate you.

PS -- I've mentioned our friend Rachel and her husband Chris. They have adopted one of Heather's Second Chance Horses, an ex-racing paint mare named Moon. Rachel has started a new blog, so stop by and check her out.

A Less Tacky Post

2011-09-14T19:44:00.001-05:00

This is one of those follow-me-down-the-rabbit-hole posts.

Somehow, I ended up owning 5 saddles.

1. This is the saddle that came with Poco. It was inexpensive (as was all the tack that came with him), and I spent months conditioning the stiff leather into submission. The "tree" is nothing more than a piece of heavyweight composite plastic, which makes it lightweight and flexible, so it literally will fit any horse. The seat has zero padding. I added a gel seat pad and a sheepskin cover that helped.

2. I then bought a Tucker Trail saddle, which I eventually traded for this barrel saddle I now use, but I kept #1 as a spare for when other people came to ride.

3. I remembered that Poco's previous owner also had an inexpensive Aussie trail saddle that I knew was prolly just laying around in his garage, so on a whim I called him and asked what he wanted for it. I'd use it if I liked it (and sell #1) or clean it up and stick it on Craig's list if I didn't. I didn't like it at all, but since it had a large seat, I took it to Iron Ridge for some of the larger SCA riders to use. I had a few nibbles from people wanting to buy it, but none ever went through and it's still at the farm. I don't have any photos of it.

4. When I bought #3, Poco's previous owner also tossed in this adorable Mexican child's saddle. You can't tell from the photo how small it is, but the seat is barely 12". It is also an inexpensive saddle, and I'm currently waging conditioning war with the leather. No telling how long this was on his garage floor. This will be my grandson's saddle, when he's ready.

5. And this is the vintage western saddle I found at the yard sale. It is coming along nicely. I'm into my third liter of conditioner. Go here to see what it looked like when I got it. I don't like metal stirrups, but I have plenty of time to change them out before Daltrey is ready.

SO ... I cleaned up #1 with the intent of putting it on Craig's list, but Kris, who has ridden in that saddle countless times, bought it so she'd have a spare. I threw in the pad that came with it and the wooden stand that came with #5. One down.

Somewhere along the line, #3 (the Aussie) turned up minus a stirrup and leather, so I need to either bring it home from the farm, clean it up, replace the parts and stick on Craig's list — or — replace the parts and see if Heather wants to sell it and just put whatever she gets toward board for the Boyz. Either way, I want it gone.

I also gave Kris a couple headstalls (both of which were given to me) that I never use and that don't fit Daltrey's drafty head now, much less when he's grown. My goal is to be down to 2 complete sets of tack plus the kiddie saddle. We'll see how that works. Who can resist the siren song and luscious smell of tack stores?

These Are The Days

2011-09-06T19:52:00.003-05:00

Today was the last day of my 6-day extended Labor Day holiday. I enjoyed every single one of them, especially the 4 days I got to ride. I almost felt like a rich bitch. Or a retired bitch. I am neither, so tomorrow, it's back to work for me.

Our first two rides were okay, but the last two were primo. Jaz seemed to know exactly what I was trying to do, which is get used to a bit more speed. Although we did not canter, he gave me a gorgeous extended trot that was easy and fun to ride, and may even have been pretty. Jaz seemed to enjoy himself as well.

We set up ground poles and barrels on the inside of the arena, leaving the rail free. We set the barrels up in a straight line, so we could circle around them or weave in and out of them, like pole bending. And, of course, we could also hairpin through the ground poles, which was great for flexing. We had hoped to be able to ride the pasture, but the cracks are so bad a horse — Jazu — could hurt himself or his hapless rider. He is a lot of things, but sure-footed is not one of them.

Jaz has developed an annoying habit in the past couple months of chewing on his bit, which was a D-ring snaffle with a rather large (never seen one that big), flat, rectangular plate. I'm not talking about idly rolling it around in his mouth, but chomping down on it HARD. Jaz's teeth are not that great to start with, so surely this was not a good thing.

This is his new bit, and I'm happy to report he seems to like it. He plays with it but there's a lot less gnashing and clanking going on. We were laughing because with all the various drafts and draft crosses at the farm, this bit seems so teeny — 5".

And today, I rode Poko for the first time since my trade with Heather. Even if I never ride him again, I had to do it, just to prove to myself that I could. He was as well behaved as Poko gets. His gaits were smooth as silk, just as I remember them. I thought I might feel sorry or sad, or have a case of the coulda-shoulda-wouldas, but I didn't. In fact, it only served to remind me of how sweet, kind and wonderful my Jaz is, and why he's a much better fit for me. I sure wish Jaz had Poko's gaits, but I'll take my sweet, trustworthy boy every time. Yup. I'm over the bad boy.

My holiday was so busy, I didn't spend much time poking 'round the blogosphere, so I'll be catching up with everyone this week. Carry on.

Finally Cool Enough to Breathe

2011-09-04T14:59:00.000-05:00

Imagine my disorientation when I stepped outside with the dogs this morning and the temperature was close to what it was in the air-conditioned house. What perfect pony weather.

It was only in the 80s today, so there was no reason to be at the barn at the crack of frikken dawn. I got there about 9am and took my good old time getting Jaz ready. It was wonderful to not be at the mercy of the weather. Well, sorta. It was windy, and since it's been so dry, the wind was blowing dust and sand around — sand in my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

The elusive Mr. Jason Page on Doodles
and Heather on Boo (Jaz's brother)

Rachel on Ash, her husband Chris on Poko, and me and Jaz

Believe it or not, Poko was the only one
willing and full of energy.
Everyone else had 2 speeds: really slow and stop.

Jaz, Boo, and Doodles were just lazy,
but Rachel was getting 'tude from Ash.

I plan on riding tomorrow and Tuesday also, but I may carry a crop.

With Jaz, that's all you have to do; he won't make you use it.

I'm not buying the I'm-so-overworked routine.

What are y'all doing this long weekend?

Hope it includes ponies!

Beer:30 at Iron Ridge

2011-09-01T17:19:00.002-05:00

From left: Heather, Jason, Nita, Mr. Fry, and Suzie the Rottweiler

Drinking beer, Smirnoff Lemonade, eating junk food,
telling lies, watching the geldings nosh
as the sun went down.

Jaz and Daltrey

Daltrey has been wearing a fly mask.
Because he has little pigment in and around his eyes,
he is more sensitive to the sun and wind.
His eyes run often, and his third eyelid always looks irritated.
That's the downside to those beautiful blue eyes.

Poko and Boo (Jaz's brother)

Beautiful evening and a perfect start to my staycation.
I'm off until next Wednesday — woohoo!

As Good As It Gets Today

2011-08-21T17:06:00.001-05:00

"A man's got to know his limitations."

— Clint Eastwood as "Dirty Harry" Callahan in "Magnum Force" (1973)

A woman, too.

I don't canter yet. Oh, I've taken a few strides here and there. Quaker was the first. We were playing, doing a fast trot in the pasture at Iron Ridge with Nita and Keeley. Quaker picked up speed for a few wonderful seconds until I barely hinted that he bring it back down, which he did immediately. I've also taken a few steps on Poco, and probably on Jaz, too.

Why I haven't kicked it up into 3rd gear is no secret: fear. I'm not talking about a deep, dark fear. Not at all. I am certain that I will do it at some point, but I haven't felt comfortable enough yet. The few times I thought I felt comfortable enough and actually asked Jaz or Heather's mare Ash for the canter, model lesson horses that they are, both refused. I trust them both.

For the longest time, whenever I trotted, I felt completely out of control. And I was. I could stay on, and we didn't crash into stuff mostly because the horses know you're supposed to turn when you get to the corner of the arena, and to avoid other riders. But if it came down to actually steering, navigating among obstacles, I felt like I was at the mercy of the horse. Now, if we're talking about Jaz, that's not a terrible thing, again, because he's a caretaker; he wouldn't take anyone into harm's way. However, when you pick up speed on a horse like, say, Poco, you can't count on him to look out for you or anyone else. In the right frame of mind, he'd plow into another horse or even into a fence in a New York minute.

I've been able to afford a couple lessons in the last few months. When Heather asked what I wanted to accomplish, I said I wanted to work on communicating with my horse with my legs and seat while learning to keep my hands quiet. In order for Jaz to pick up speed when I ask, I must feel completely comfortable and confident, or he won't do it. In order for that to happen, I need to be able to communicate with him without having to think about it — including what direction I want us to go — so I can concentrate on other important things, like maintaining proper balance and learning the new gait.

We're not there yet, but we're getting closer.

Hanging With All the Boys

2011-08-17T20:50:00.001-05:00

Didn't work with Baby D today. Too lazy. I just hung out with the geldings, who were all being complete suck-ups. They shared an apple. Jaz and Poko begged for grape Gatorade, so I shared.

Poko, Jaz, Boo (Jaz's brother), Daltrey.

I got to know Boo a little.

He was quite sweet, much like his brother.

I have never ridden him, and may ride him Sunday,

if Jaz is not rideable.

Look how tall my baby is!
There's still nothing to eat.

They're pretending.

Poor Jaz. Always a mess.

Healing sweet itch/rain rot.

These two are sensitive to the touch,

or he may be being a drama queen.

He pissed somebody off.

This doesn't look like anything, but see the darker area?
It's sweet itch/rain rot right before it gets ugly.

As soon as we treat it, it will be pink and hairless.

This one's for Lisa and Sylvia.

This is in Scorch, the Stonewall stallion's, pen.

She was just standing there, cooling her jets.

She might be the smartest critter at the farm.

It's 5:00 Somewhere

2011-08-14T13:30:00.003-05:00

I found this cool old bronze clock at a resale shop in St. Marys, Pennsylvania almost 20 years ago. I had to replace the electric mechanism with a battery one, but the battery corroded the contacts about 6 months ago and it stopped at 1:05. I decided it wasn't worth doing anything about it, but I still like the clock.

Yesterday, I had this brilliant idea.

The next time someone says to you that it's 5:00 somewhere, you can tell them you know where, because it's always 5:00 at Casa Fry.

At Long Last

2011-08-13T16:55:00.000-05:00

TURN THE SOUND WAY UP!

D Day Walkabout

2011-08-10T04:45:00.008-05:00

Iron Ridge is located in an otherwise typical residential neighborhood. The plan was simple: Heather or Nita would lead Jaz while I led Daltrey on a short walkabout down the less busy of their roads. Since they were both there, Heather led Jaz, Nita brought Ishka, and off we went.

I keep thinking that one of these days I'm going to come up with something that freaks Daltrey out, but that has yet to happen. No loose dogs, bicycles, wayward balloons, or other typical horse-eating suburban denizens crossed our paths. There was light traffic, and it had been trash day, so the street was lined with wheeled plastic trash bins. We investigated the trash bins, opened and closed mailboxes, etc. Not even a wide-eyed look.

We stopped at an overgrown easement and let the horses graze, then headed back, this time with Daltrey and I in the lead. What a big boy! He looked over his shoulder a few times to make sure his herd was still there, but he did well. Of course, the big test will be getting him out by himself. He still gets anxious when he's alone, but we'll build his confidence with little outings like this so setting out on his own is no big deal.

I'm taking suggestions for easy and fun things to do with him. Ideas?

Dry Bones: Drought in Texas

2011-08-07T11:24:00.002-05:00

As of this writing, the Dallas/Fort Worth area is experiencing its 37th consecutive day of triple digit heat. On this day last week, it was 93° at 6:30 a.m., and you can see what it was when I left work. This is our "hell to pay" for those wonderful days of riding in jeans and a tee shirt while y'all are freezing your hoo-hoos off in the winter.

Poco and Jaz mowing the dog yard in August 2008

The dog yard this morning

Poco (front pasture) expressing his displeasure

that Jaz and I have left him

for a ride down the road in August 2008

Front pasture today

Back pasture August 2008

Back pasture summer 2011

As you can see, the land is beyond parched; we can only imagine what it would look like if the horses were here. I sent them to Iron Ridge to let the land recover, but without rain, it has gone from bad to worse. Not that it's any better at the farm. Heather is facing the same challenges on a larger scale. There is no hay locally. So far, most of the horses are holding their weight on a diet of Complete Assurance, beet pulp, and minerals.

The heat is another story. Daltrey is moving even slower than he normally does. Jaz has been off for the last couple days. He usually doesn't like being stalled, but he hasn't even had the motivation to complain. He plays with his food and isn't drinking as much as he should. I took two box fans up there and bought him 20 quarts of his favorite flavor of Gatorade, Blueberry Pomegranate. Heather said he drank 5 of them last night. When Jason set up the fans (wired to the outside of the stall), Jaz backed his butt up to one of them. Heather said he ate last night with a bit more gusto than he has been, so it's working, at least a little.

The weather is not fit for woman or beast. No riding until it breaks.

Bringing up Baby

2011-08-04T04:45:00.009-05:00

Wednesday afternoons after work now officially belong to Daltrey. This works well, since I don't have much energy and he has an attention span to match. The one thing I like about the heat is that the horses have little inclination to be stupid and jumpy, not that he normally is.

I tied Daltrey, ostensibly to groom him, but in fact it was more to gauge his mood and attention span. He stood well (for a baby), even for brushing his mane and tail, which aren't his favorite things. He's still a little heavy and wobbly when you pick up his feet.

Daltrey was more concerned about being in the arena by himself than anything I asked him to do. I led him around from both sides. We stopped, started, turned, and backed. I led him through a narrow channel someone had built from ground poles. His turns were sloppy, but he wasn't bothered by it. I did the whole "carrot stick" thing all over. Didn't even flinch, no matter how wildly I flailed it over his head, wrapped it round his legs, etc. Tried terrorizing him with a plastic grocery bag, and although he gave me a few wide-eyed looks (his startling eye color makes all his looks seem wide-eyed), he didn't move his feet. Then I brought out a black trash bag and about wore myself out shaking it, filling it with air, etc. Nada. Laid it on the ground and he sniffed and pawed, then walked right over it. I guarantee Jazu the Wonder Pony would have had no part of that!

My now 17-month old baby has entered that stage in draft baby development where he is conformationally an unholy mess — a Frankenhorse. He shot up again, and the last time Heather sticked him, he measured 14.2, but that was a month ago, so no telling now. He's ribby, butt high, hollow hipped, cow-hocked, his neck's too short, and his head's too big. Regardless of how much food you pump into him, he'll likely be gangly and out of proportion until he's at least three. All that is easy to overlook because of that wonderful drafty temperament.

We've discovered that his hearing is not impaired to the degree we once thought it was. It seems to be only lower-range sounds he can't hear. Even if he's at the far end of the pasture, he comes a-running when I call him.

Daltrey still doesn't understand that every being is not a horse. He's a bit of a cookie monster, and he likes to get in your space. So far, this is the worst I have to deal with, so you'll get no complaints here.

Caught a few minutes of a show on RFD where some guy (prolly a BNT) was out in a large pasture with mares and near weanlings. He was talking about herd dynamics and casually mentioned that all the babies were born in the pasture and didn't get haltered for the first time until they were weaned. I don't know nuthin' about nuthin', but that sure seems to me like the hard way to do things for both owner and baby. When you're talking drafts and draft crosses, they're frikken' huge by the time they're weanlings! They're too darn big NOT to start working with them from Day One. Besides, I think that's a lot of stress on a baby to be taken away from its mama, a strange thing put on its face, and being yanked around by the two-leggeds.

How do you feel about it? Leave them be or stick a halter on them as soon as you can? When do you start messing with them, teaching them to lead, yield, etc.?

Bad Love

2011-08-01T19:45:00.001-05:00

"It's like you're a drug
It's like you're a demon I can't face down
It's like I'm stuck
It's like I'm running from you all the time
And I know I let you have all the power"

"Addicted" by Kelly Clarkson

from her 2004 album "Breakaway"

Prior to hooking up with Mr. Fry, I had a penchant for falling in love with men who were emotionally unavailable at best; flawed, broken, and dangerous at worst.

Like many women, I thought that if I loved them enough, stuck around long enough, put up with their shit long enough, surely they would see the light and love me the way normal human beings love each other. In short, I thought my efforts could fix them. The more they misbehaved, the more I thought they needed me and the more determined I was to hang on. I was the poster child for codependence and enablement.

It took many years and a near-death experience, but I finally outgrew bad boys.

Human ones, anyway.

If you want a laugh at my expense, go back to the beginning of my archives for the story of how I got my first horse, Poco. Nearly every other post in the archives is about our love/hate relationship. Although I swore he'd always have a home with me — a promise I was willing to keep — I finally realized we would both be better off if we parted ways. He now lives at Iron Ridge, has his butt worked hard at least 5 days a week, is buff, and thriving. He's even carrying select beginners, which I admit is a huge blow to my self esteem.

For awhile he blew me off when I went up to the farm, but then again, he was blowing everybody off. He reverted to his charming, suck-up self when they got him away from the mares, his drug of choice. He is now pastured with his old buddies Jaz and Daltrey, and the last couple times I've visited, Poko has come to me, sweet and affectionate. The old thought processes kicked in and ... well, read paragraph 2 (above) again. I found myself with a case of the "what ifs" the "maybes."

I had the honor of roaching him.

I shared my feelings with Heather, who reminded me that the only reason he's gotten with the program is that he's being ridden hard and often, which I can't do. Work, such an inconvenience ... Poko is flourishing under the discipline and routine at Iron Ridge. Still, it's not a matter of if, but when Poko has his next meltdown. And I'll still be pushing 60 years old, and don't need to be the one on him when that happens. I do hope that at some point, I'm a confident, competent enough rider to ride him again. He's such a rush to ride.

Like any other intense, passionate relationship, remnants of this pony love linger in my psyche, and apparently in his as well. It tugs at my heartstrings every time he lays that big ole head in my arms. He will always have a piece of my heart, but my head tells me things are best left the way they are.

A Back-Saving Tip

2011-07-30T06:30:00.002-05:00

This is a Yerba Prima Skin Brush, which I use every day. The bristles are vegetable fibers and are invigoratingly stiff when new, gradually softening with wear, which is when you know it's time to get a new one. When the bristles are too squishy for my taste, I use it to scrub pony legs and feet, and sometimes other body parts.

My back is always just a hair's breadth from tweaking out on me, and this allows me to scrub to my heart's content without having to bend so far. This could keep you safer if you're trying to bathe an unruly baby or a horse you suspect might kick. I used one on Baby D's owwy back leg once it began to heal.

I would not recommend using a new one on a horse, or using a brush with artificial bristles, since the bristles are firm and many horses are funny about their legs.

Buy online at Amazon or Vitamin Shoppe. But buy it for yourself first. Your skin will be as soft and smooth as a spanked baby's bum.

It's Pony Time!

2011-07-29T05:15:00.012-05:00

Boogedy boogedy boogedy boogedy shoo.

I've been trying to discipline myself to go to Iron Ridge one day after work during the week, which I arbitrarily decided will be Wednesdays. It seemed right: we ride on Sunday mornings when many attend church, so why not go on the other church day?

What holds me back? Two words: heat and inertia. As for the first, it's summer and triple digits in Texas, so 'nuff said. As for the second, after an hour's commute each way to/from work and the work day itself, all I want to do is get home and chill out.

But now that the Boyz are at the farm, I miss seeing them, and I don't want to lose momentum in the baby's training.

I walked out into the pasture Jaz and Daltrey share with Poco and the other geldings. Jaz stopped nibbling to look at me when I called, but didn't move. As I continued talking to him and drew closer, I saw the look of recognition on his face and he actually greeted me with his raspy neigh, which we liken to the call of a dying moose. This is uncharacteristic, and I mentioned it to Heather when we got back to the barn. She said Amy, one of the SCAers, had ridden Jaz the day before. Jaz saw her approaching, apparently thought it was me, and trotted up to her. Upon realizing it wasn't me, he turned tail and trotted off! She didn't have any trouble catching him, but how funny is that?

Not sure why I thought of it, but I decided to pony Daltrey while riding Jaz. Jaz was a little off, evidenced by gas and loose poo, but was his typical willing self. He probably got into some vegetation he shouldn't have, and Heather said he was fine the next day.

They were both champs, and acted as if they had done it their whole lives. I was a different story, and felt like I didn't have enough hands. I got the job done, but I sure hope no one was making notes about my riding style.

We only worked for 15-20 minutes. Daltrey was loose as I was tacking Jaz down, and was a pesky little itch. Just for devilment, I threw the tack on not-so-little Mr. Nosy. He didn't flinch, even when I fastened the girth. His attitude continues to amaze me. And look how handsome!

Nita holding Daltrey in my barrel saddle.
"Mommy, WOW, I'm a big boy now!"

We sat in the barn alley for a few minutes drinking Gatorade and telling lies after we turned the Boyz loose to graze the yard. We heard a tiny thump, followed by a rustling sound. I assumed it was a chicken, but it turned out to be one of the baby birds nesting in the framework of the doorway.

Jason, the Bird Whisperer to the rescue! Don't you love how the feathers on its head make it look like a little old man? Jae stuffed it back into the doorway and all was well.

Yard Sale, Texas-Style

2011-07-27T04:45:00.005-05:00

At the end of June, I noticed people setting up for a yard sale as I was on my way to Iron Ridge. I normally put my blinders on, since I don't need anything. Oh, but this was a Texas-style yard sale, featuring tack. LOTS of tack. I managed to keep my truck on the road, and when I went back the next day, it wasn't there. Whew! Dodged that bullet.

For awhile, anyway.

The following weekend (Friday of the long July 4th weekend), the sale was back on. In fact, it seemed as if they had even more stuff on display. On my way back from riding, my truck pulled itself into the driveway of its own accord. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

There was a pile of halters and lead ropes a couple feet high. There were two carousels of headstalls and bits, and another of reins. Most of it was really severe stuff, including wire mechanical hackamores, etc. There was a table full of spurs, another filled with stirrups and miscellaneous leather and hardware, and still another with a stack of ropes as high as I am tall. There were at least a dozen saddles. This was not a store going out of business; it was a collection of roping tack in various stages of used.

Most of the saddles were big, as in large-man big. One was teeny-tiny, with the name "Christine" cloyingly engraved on the cantle plate. Then my eye beheld one that not only looked as if it would fit me, it spoke to me. It was a beautiful, vintage (1970s-1980s) hand-tooled roping show saddle. The old cowpoke in charge measured it at ±15". It was on a wooden stand, and I climbed on. It's as if it had been custom-made for my bum.

I can find no maker's mark.
The keepers, hobble straps, stirrups, and front billets were replaced.
The rear billets may be original.
The cowpoke gave me the stand.

The cantle plate is solid brass, not brass plated.
I thought the conchos might be silver,
but the more I look at them, I think they're nickel or something else.
Hard to tell, since someone scrubbed the daylights
out of them, possibly with a wire brush.

This is old-school hand tooling.

This is the color of the hydrated leather.
This photo was taken the day I brought it home,
so it's looking (and feeling)
a lot better than it did that day.

The flocking has been replaced.
There are two small spots on the scalloped edge of the pommel
where friction from a rope wore through the leather.
It's cosmetic, not structural, and is charming, I think.
Although there are tiny, superficial cosmetic cracks,
mostly around the edges, I don't think anything except
the Blevins sliders needs to be replaced.

The rear girth (above), however, has deep, structural cracks on the underside. But look at the tooling — you don't see tooled rear girths like that anymore. I haven't ever used one, but I'll treat it anyway. One could have another girth made using the tooled pieces, which are the keepers.

Thank goodness dear Mr. Fry is such a western enthusiast. He looked askance at me for a moment when he saw my purchase, but was soon admiring the craftsmanship and my good fortune for having spotted it. He did question my need for it, but — bless him — he did not rain on my parade.

I took it apart and applied almost an entire liter of Lexol Conditioner/Preservative to the saddle and girth. The leather sucked up every bit of it. I have since added a liter of Farnham Restorer & Conditioner, which it also absorbed. I've finally gotten it to where I have the stirrup leathers cranked around with a dowel, and I continue to treat it periodically.

I'll try this saddle on Jaz, but I don't think it will fit, at least not without a riser pad. This will be Daltrey's saddle. It's heavier than my barrel saddle, so I have started some upper body conditioning so I will be able to lift it over my head.

I wonder about the person or persons who owned the saddle, the horses that wore it, the places to which they may have traveled, and what they may have done together. I sense an aura of warmth, confidence, and excellent karma. I think it's a good omen and talisman for D and me.

We Have a Winner!

2011-07-25T19:13:00.000-05:00

Congratulations to Val of Fantastyk Voyage!

Val, a woman after my own heart,

rides Western, likes bling,

and likes any color.

Here's some pink bling for the girl and her pony(ies).

A closeup of Val's bling.

Val also gets this sassy tote bag.

Even the sides of the bag are sassy.

And finally, courtesy of my dear friend Jill in England,

the book War Horse, and a DVD on how they staged

the London (and now Broadway) productions,

including how they fashioned those amazing puppets.

This wonderful video is not available in the US.

Congratulations Val!

Email me your snail-mail address

and your goodies will be on their way.

Thanks for playing, everyone.

We'll do it again at the Big 5-0-0!

400th Post Giveaway!

2011-06-14T04:45:00.001-05:00

Yes, it's milestone time again!

To Enter
Leave a comment on this post and tell me:

Western, English, both, or neither?
Bling or Plain Jane?
Modern/contemporary or vintage/retro?
What size T-shirt do you wear?
Favorite color for you and your horse?

Don't be shy, everyone loves a giveaway. It's also okay if you are a previous winner.

Names will be placed in the pink hat and the winner drawn in a few weeks. (I'm feeling noncommittal.)

If you're the winner, I'll choose your prize based on your answer to one or more of the questions. I'll announce the winner and your prize as soon as I have time to shop, and you can email me your address.

Meanwhile, I'm taking a blog-cation 'til sometime in July. Catch you 'round the blogosphere, kidz. Good luck, and thanks for playing!

The Earlier, the Better

2011-06-12T18:23:00.001-05:00

Got to Iron Ridge a few minutes past 8am. The gate was open, Nita and Heather were feeding, watering, and moving horses around. Who are you people and what have you done with my friends?

It was much better starting earlier. Mother Nature was kind and provided a light breeze, and although the air was warm, at least it was moving.

Jaz was, of course, perfect. He was so relaxed, I actually startled him awake when I put the bit in his mouth. Rough night, I guess. I did a good part of our ride without stirrups, and did better than I thought trotting. Next time, we're riding bareback.

Jason, Kris, Rachel, Nita

There was so much horse swapping going on, I lost track of exactly who rode which horse(s), but the mount of choice today was the new girl at the farm.

Who, me?

Yes, you, big girl. This is a Shire/Percheron cross that Heather traded for one of her lighter horses. This photo doesn't really give a good idea of how BIG she is — 16hh+ and approx 2100 lbs. Her head is enormous. She is sweet, well behaved and moves well. She is overweight and needs some muscling. Rachel, Chris (her hub), and Kris rode her and wore her out, so I'll catch her next time. I think we came up with a good name for her, but she's Heather's horse and I'll let her announce it. This girl is definitely a keeper.

After the ride, I hosed Jaz down and let him "mow the yard," and brought Daltrey up with him. Daltrey is super curious and social. He always walks around and says hello to every human, canine, and equine. He walked up the side of the barn and the new girl stuck that big head out. I thought D would jump out of his skin.

Later, they decided to let her out into the herd, which was a non-event. Poco was in love (over the fence), but she blew him off. Ha!

When You're Hot, You're Hot

2011-06-05T19:30:00.000-05:00

Arrived at Iron Ridge at about 9 a.m. today to find not a soul around. Uusally Nita is there doing morning feed and water chores. I took my time unloading my stuff, but no one. Nice barn buddy that I am, I fed and watered all who were in the barn and catch pens, including this sorry specimen:

Yes, that is Notorious P.O.K.O. with those "Children of the Damned" eyes cooling his jets. Phase 1 of his comeuppance has commenced. They tricked him by bringing up his favorite crazy mare for grain. Sucker!

By this time, Heather had come out and I was already so hot, I was shaking. Downed a Gatorade and we grabbed my Boyz, who were being bullied by a certain black mustang who shall remain nameless. He got his heinie booted out in the main pasture, where he promptly began gathering the fragments of P. Loco's harem while Jaz and Daltrey had breakfast.

Jazu stylin' in his new rhythm beads. He seemed to like them, and I didn't need to cluck the proper cadence; he came into it naturally. It's a pleasant sound, and I think he looks quite handsome.

Heather and her old mare Ash getting ready for our ride. It was just we two today. We really started too late and it was way too hot. Jaz was terrific anyway. Just as we had decided it was time to stop, Heather jumped down, threw me her reins, and took off to rescue Nita's filly Ishka, who had somehow cast herself on the fence. She lost a bit of hair on a hind leg, but was okay other than that.

We hosed down our sweaty ponies then let them graze the area outside the barn, joined by Baby D. Hard to believe, but this time next year, I'll start laying across him, getting him used to weight on his back.

Then I got to be a People of WalMart in all my sweaty, groaty glory as I picked up a few groceries to get us through the week. At our WalMart, I fit right in. Nobody batted an eye, but if they were smart, they stepped back a few paces.

Next week, we're starting much earlier. It's that time of year when it'll make you sick if you don't.

Stay tuned: We're just a few posts away from the big 4-0-0, and you know what that means: GIVEAWAY!

Mama Knows Best

2011-06-01T19:06:00.001-05:00

Long ago, in a small town far, far away, I was a maladjusted Catholic school girl. Although outwardly compliant, I had a passive-aggressive rebellious streak, one of the more amusing and innocuous manifestations of which was my aversion to underwear.

Mom asking me if I was wearing underwear became part of the morning litany with such classics as, “Did you brush your teeth, do you have your lunch,” etc. Sometimes she’d simply lift the back of my uniform to see for herself. If she caught me literally with my pants down, she sent me back upstairs to get some. She always concluded with the admonition that “only bad girls” don’t wear panties. The logical Catholic (is that an oxymoron?) thought progression from there was, “bad girls go to hell,” but I was unable to comprehend the connection between a little strip of fabric and one’s behavior, much less one’s salvation.

Me and my brother Stan circa 1973.

My transfer to the public school system punctuated my mid-teen years, and became the catalyst for my descent into hippiedom, heathenism, and hedonism. Like most fashionable young radicals of the day, I wore jeans so impossibly tight and that rode so low, it was a wonder I could sit in them at all without exposing every bit of my charm. Even the tiniest bikini underwear stuck out the top.

Fast forward to the birth of my son in 1985. I was 33 years old. Mom came for a couple weeks. One day, I was taking care of the baby, and she was gathering up laundry.

She called out from my bedroom, “Where’s your underwear?”

Not grasping the context of the question, I yelled back, “Top drawer.”

Silence.

She walked into the living room carrying 15 years worth of gift underwear, still in the boxes, some still bearing Christmas tags.

She looked at me, now howling with laughter, and said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I said, “It seemed so important to you, I didn’t want to upset you.”

We laughed until we cried, and I never got another gift of underwear.

Fast forward again to the first time I jumped on Jazu in late 2006.

Bareback.

Wearing jeans.

Ow.

I made a beeline to Wal-Mart.

Fast forward once more to last week, when Mom came to visit. I started a load of laundry, and combined her whites with mine. She got to the dryer first, and I saw momentary confusion on her face, followed by amusement, as she beheld underwear not her own.

I shared my epiphany, and once again, we laughed so hard, we cried.

Mama really does know best, and did so all along.

Jaz's Latest Owwy

2011-05-22T17:09:00.001-05:00

When it comes to our Delicate Grey Flower, if it's not one thing, it's another. Here's the latest. The first 2 pix were taken last week. The third was taken today after a bath and some Swat.

Love his summer freckles.

We had monsoon rains on Friday, so the arena at Iron Ridge was still too soupy to ride. It was hot and muggy. After roaching Jaz's mane, it was obvious his allergies are giving him hell, so he got a tea tree oil shampoo, Vetericyn on that owwy, and Swat on the wound, and his mane and tail.

Daltrey, now close to 15 months old, is still getting short bursts of patience exercises, since that's about all his attention span can handle. I hosed him down, including his wound (still open, but clean), washed his face, and brushed his super thick mane and tail, which threaten to form dreadlocks. I did a few minutes work on lead with him, walking, reinforcing moving away from pressure, etc.

Not much else going on, so the Boyz mowed the yard as we sat around telling lies.

Poco is completely over the top. He is unapproachable, surrounding himself with the craziest mares in the herd. I know when they get around to it, Heather and Jason will make it happen, but, uhhh, good luck with that.

My Mom and her beau are visiting this coming week, so I'm a little sorry the Boyz aren't home, but the rain is helping the stressed condition of the land. Another excuse to visit my barn buddies. I can't imagine my mother getting on a horse, but I know her friend grew up around them, so he may ride.

I have off from this coming Wednesday to the following Wednesday. Woohoo!

What's going on with you?

5-Way Win

2011-05-15T08:41:00.004-05:00

Mr. Fry and I reached a major decision this weekend: Jaz and Daltrey will be spending a lot more time living at Iron Ridge.

There's no set schedule. It will depend on a number of variables, the most important of which is the condition of our land. In the past, we have sent them up for approximately 2 months or so a year. Now, they will divide their time more equally, or the balance may even tip the other way.

Now that Mr. Fry and I have reached an accord, I wonder that we did not come to this decision sooner. It's amazing how one change can have such a positive impact.

Let me count the ways:

Better for our land. If you don't have horses at home, no one can prepare you for how hard they are on it. We have five acres, which sounds like it should be plenty for two horses, but it's not. We have sandy loam soil, with the emphasis on "sand." The damage from their grazing and tearing around has led to serious erosion, especially right around the house (no cross-fencing; they have full access). We have tried to seed, but we lack the proper implements and the money to do it effectively year after year. We have several species of invasive weeds that are slowly choking what little grass and edible weeds we have. When I look at photos from a few years ago compared to today, the devastation is shocking.
Better for the long-suffering Mr. Fry. He has been more than accommodating of my dream, but there you have it: this is my dream, not his. Although he likes and enjoys the horses, his passion lies in the other kind of horsepower. Whether it's hauling hay, fixing fences, or attempting to stem damage to the land — any of the myriad heavy chores — he has jumped in and done them to spare my delicate hands and wrists, which are trashed from making a living hunched over a computer keyboard. Now that he has a day job again, he will have more time do do what he wants to do.
Better for the horses. It's a good thing for them to have a variety of experiences. They become accustomed to new things, which gives them confidence. They get to interact with a large, diverse herd. Although convenient for me, providing free-choice hay here at home is not in their best interest. Jaz has gone from hard keeper to glutton. Having them here for shorter periods of time makes it possible to lay in a small supply of square bales to control portions. There is always someone at home at the farm to spot an injury or illness more quickly than I would if the horses were here. I found Daltrey's leg wound when I came home from work, but it was obvious he had done it hours before. I also know they will interact with the horses, so the progress I've made with Daltrey's manners will continue to be reinforced. If they need him, they'll use Jaz for lessons — he needs the exercise. They use the same vet and farrier, and they are close to Performance Equine, one of the finest emergency veterinary facilities in the area. That's where Jaz was treated for strongyles.
Better for me. I always enjoy the time the Boyz are at Iron Ridge. I get to hang with my Barn Buddies, interact with more horses, and use the arena. It's all good, and I think the cost will even itself out over time.
Better for my friends. What's better than generating a little income for friends? I'm all about keeping money close to home.

It's a 5-way win, and I'm excited about it.

Another Level of Hell

2011-05-07T18:57:00.001-05:00

Alternate Title: He is SO Gonna Get It

In my last post I told how Poco put mares between us when I tried to catch him for a spa day last week. Okay, not my horse anymore, and I'm chopped liver anyway.

He did the same thing to Jason (Heather's SO) when he tried to bring him up for grain. BIG, BIG mistake, Poco.

Poco is not a priority right now because O is back for 2 weeks to cover 7 mares for 2012 Sugarbush and Stonewall foals. Balou, O's full sister, is being bred to Quagga (Daltrey's grandsire). Once all that's accomplished and some of that testosterone dissipates, a certain studly wannabe is going to rue the day he was born.

Poco has been getting his dibs on all the mares after O has covered them. How pathetic is that?

Heather's already plotting her revenge. Poco is 14.2 with little bitty short legs and he's built like a frikken tank. It's a big deal for him to get that keister vertical, even though he is no longer fat, but in pretty good condition. Heather will be longeing him over (short) jumps. He hates it.

This gets better by the day. I may have to take a day off work just so I can see that sorry piece of horseflesh get his comeuppance.

I bet you thought I was exaggerating, or that it was just me...

Other People's Children

2011-05-04T16:19:00.003-05:00

I went to the farm to see Jaz & Daltrey. They were out in the pasture, but came a-running when I called. Both horses have started to drop weight and look good from running the whole 30 acres.

Daltrey's wound is oozy, but looking good. He has a few more owwies just from being introduced to a large herd. His eyes are irritated and I'll have to try a fly mask. Not sure how that will work, considering what they did to the fly collars.

It was still way too wet to ride after all the rain we've had, so we had a mini spa day instead, after which I closed the main gate and let them "mow" the area around the house and barn.

Poco came up to the fence and I gave him an alfalfa cube. They put him out in the main herd a few weeks ago, just before Heather's accident. I don't think they intended for him to be out there for so long. If you are a long-time reader, you may recall me mentioning that Poco doesn't know he's not a stallion. The very first time I took him up there for training, we tried to introduce him into the main herd. He immediately challenged all comers, and started pulling out mares. He turns into studly macho man when he's around mares. That's why we always kept him penned off with the geldings or by himself. But it makes sense that it's a lot more convenient for them to be able to turn him out like all the other geldings.

My first clue that Mr. I'm-All-That-And-A-Bag-Of-Chips was getting way too big for his britches is that he wanted nothing to do with Jaz and Daltrey. Oh no, now he has "his" girls, and it figures he'd be hanging with the bat-shit crazy ones: Jason's mare Dee, and squirrelly Arden (Daltrey's dam, who is much better since she had him). He also likes Nazar the Belgian, and Hex the Clydesdale, after they returned to the herd following their date with O. Nazar and Hex aren't crazy, but they also aren't broke, nor are they particularly people-oriented.

As I was petting him, I noticed Poco wearing a loose mantle of silver winter coat that's still hanging on. I thought I'd pull him up and include him in the spa day. He took one look at the halter and lead rope and put mares between himself and me! Lather, rinse, repeat. I tried for a minute or so, then blew it off. I had no guilt whatsoever not chasing after the win across 30 acres. If I still owned him you can bet your ass I would gotten that win, too.

I really hope I'm around to see it when they pull those mares up to disband his little harem. At that point, they'll handle him more or less like a stallion, isolating him in a catch pen to allow him to have the massive hissy fit we all know he will. Heather will work his sorry, proud-cut ass into the dirt until he starts thinking with his brains again. If I happen to be there, I promise video. When my hands are free from clapping and cheering, that is.

Spring Break for the Boyz

2011-05-02T20:03:00.001-05:00

Time again for the Boyz' annual visit to Iron Ridge while our land breathes for a month or two. I couldn't have chosen a better time.

If you have been following the weather here, it is unseasonably cold, and we've received some much needed rain for several days. If they were here, they'd be slogging in sandy mud, tearing up what little grass we have, but we timed the exodus perfectly. Rather than tearing up our scrubby little few acres, they're running in the big pasture at the farm.

Not to mention that the Cafeteria Lady would have to be out there in all this goop.

Heather put Jaz and Daltrey in a long pen so they could make friends over the fence, then we turned them loose into the main herd. Jaz did his job and put himself between Daltrey and those who would push him around. Daltrey did his part by sticking closer than usual to Jaz. Amber, the meek little champagne filly that spent some time here with us, decided Daltrey was the perfect target to boss around. It appears Jaz made a pact with her, and now she's hanging out with them and not bothering Baby D.

They will be brought up for feed so Jaz can get his Tri-Hist, prescribed because he is/was coughing, and is his normal itchy self this time of year. Daltrey's wound still needs tending, and I also want him to be handled every day. I'm proud of what he knows and how mannerly he is, and I don't want to lose it. So Nita will be working with him for a few minutes each day — that's all it takes, and about all he has the attention span for.

I took my tack with me in case there was an opportunity to ride, but there was way too much going on.

O (Sugarbush Harley's Classic O — Daltrey's sire) is back to cover 7 mares for 2012 Stonewall and Sugarbush foals. Kris helped wrangle draft mares. I was lazy and handled the gate. We put 4 mares in with O: Clydesdales Hex (Scorch and Rico's dam) and her full sister Jinx (Diva's dam), Belgian Nazar (Olivia's dam), and Appaloosa Dove (Tori's dam). In addition, O's full sister Balou is also there to be bred to Q (JKS Regal Quagga — Daltrey's grandsire).

Kris treated, and we all sat back for pizza and pony porn. Although she was standing, O wanted nothing to to with Dove, so Heather thinks we missed her heat. I'll be anxious to see who gets to take her spot. My vote is to let Daltrey's dam, Arden, have another shot with O. The odds are astronomical against another Daltrey color-wise, but the conformation and temperament should be there regardless.

Back home, I miss being able to look out my window and see ponies, but I'm looking forward to weeding and seeding this place. I hope to bring J&D back to a much improved pasture situation. We also have some fencing that needs repair. Joy.

What's new in your neck of the woods?

Good Comes From Bad

2011-04-25T18:10:00.001-05:00

ser ● en ● dip ● i ● ty |ˌserənˈdipitē|

noun

the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way

Although I've seen horses get hurt and helped tend to the initial injuries, I had no prior experience in the maintenance of said wounds or the healing process. I do now.

I've been actually tying Daltrey, not just looping the rope, and he's done better than I would have expected.

I'm not a fan of messing with a yearling's hind legs in the first place, much less having to doctor a painful, injured one. At first, every time I touched it, that leg would snap up. If I tried to hold it up, he'd yank it away. I had to slow way down, talk to him softly, stroke his back, butt, and the leg to get him to stand still for me. Each day that I've had to redress the wound, he has quieted down a little sooner. And I think when he lifts the leg, he may just be responding to the pressure and giving it to me as if I were going to pick the hoof. He's better now about keeping it on the ground while I wrap it. Trust is being built. That said, I still stand as close as possible just in case. I ain't stupid.

I may have figured out what he injured himself on, if not the exact scenario of how it happened. I had noticed that the hay ring had been moved several feet, but assumed Mr. Fry had done it because the Boyz had eaten out the center of the bale, and it had collapsed. Then Mr. Fry said, "I keep forgetting to ask you if you moved the hay ring." Hell, I couldn't move that hay ring if my life depended on it. I'll bet Baby stepped inside to munch and got hung up on the way out.

We've had bad weather since the middle of last week, so there were no signs of a struggle on the ring other than the fact that it had been moved. That's gotta be it. He's no dummy; I bet he doesn't do that again.

I hesitate to use the word "bad" to describe our weather, since we got much-needed rain. We also got hail, tornado watches and warnings, but that's Spring in Texas for you. And look what I found when I went out to inspect the hay ring.

Easter Sunday 2011 goes down in the books as the day I fell in love with Daltrey. We were all outside and I had just redressed the wound for the second time that day because the bandage had slipped out of place. I turned him loose, but he followed me over to the family. I began to idly pet his head. He put his face onto my chest and seemed to want nothing more than to "breathe me in." He never opened his mouth at all, just breathed deeply. He went to sleep with his head cradled in my arms. How could you not fall hard for that?

I've said it before: It is an ill wind indeed that blows no good. Good things are happening in ways I could not have imagined or planned.

Learning the Ropes

2011-04-23T07:00:00.004-05:00

Martha reading Baby D the Riot Act

My mentors have taught me to project a matter-of-fact attitude to my horses, that is, assume I will get the response or behavior I want when I ask them to do something, or place them in a situation. I try to relax and act as if we’ve done whatever it is a million times, not make anything a big deal, la-la-la, easy breezy.

I assume, for example, that I can walk up and fly-spray them while they’re eating or any other darn time it's convenient, whether they’re tied or not. Same with getting hosed down when it’s 106˚. With Jaz (and Poco), that is true most of the time. Rarely, I may have to loop a lead rope around Jaz’s neck if he’s of a mind to cut a rug.

One evening last week, I tried to fly-spray Daltrey at dinnertime.

O Stop Laughing [a play on Daltrey's registered name, O Stop Looking]

Last weekend, I gave Daltrey a lesson on how it’s supposed to work, and I got another lesson on … how babies are.

First, because of the bad horse juju plaguing so many of late, I donned my helmet.

As usual, as soon as I put the halter on Daltrey, he planted his feet, grabbed the knot on the lead rope, and began to play with it. I yanked to get it out of his mouth, and encouraged him to move forward. I “tied” him next to Jaz and he continued to chew the lead rope as he traversed every bit of available horizontal space.

I sprayed him with the hose. When he stood still, I stopped and praised him. When I was finally able to aim the hose at his sheath and he stood still, I quit, praised him, and gave him cookies. It only took a few minutes. I’ll wait to desensitize him to having his head sprayed. I have a wand with a mist setting that I use. Once they’re used to it, they actually seem to enjoy it, especially when it’s hot.

Two days later, I needed to spray them with fly spray. I tied them both again, and sprayed Jaz first. Daltrey watches how Jaz reacts to things. Jaz, of course, never flinched and neither did Daltrey. Lots of praise and cookies all round.

We’ll reinforce the lessons many more times while tied, and eventually try at liberty.

Other things we’ll be working on:

Walking on lead, and everything that connotes.
Not chewing on the lead rope. I’ve been lax about this one because it has kept the mouthy baby occupied when he’s tied. Now that he’s older, it’s a distraction that's becoming a habit, and I want him to pay attention to me. I’m funny like that.
The meaning of the word “stand,” which is neither a suggestion nor a request.
Patience, patience, patience.

Dénouement: This was the post I had prepared for the evening Daltrey tried to sever his leg. It only took a few moments before he stood still and allowed me to hose the leg, fly-spray him, and doctor the wound. I was even able to fly-spray that leg again at liberty. I wore a helmet throughout this episode, and will continue to do so, especially when trying new things with him. BTW, that was also the first time I actually tied him (as opposed to looping the rope), and he did well. Working on "stand" is a priority. Your mama don't dance ...

What lessons (or reminders) are you working on with your horses?

Baby D Gets an Owwy

2011-04-21T20:37:00.002-05:00

I found him wounded when I came home from work. There was blood from that hock all the way down to the hoof, all the way around the leg, blood all over his nose and mouth — it usually looks way worse than it is, and thank goodness, that was the case here. This photo was taken after I hosed it with water for several minutes and sprayed with Vetricyn. His appetite didn't suffer a bit; he was also eating.

I wrapped it with a maxi pad (also sprayed with Vetricyn) and vet wrap. Here you can see the other superficial wounds on the leg. You can also see the swelling (it's warm), and that he's not totally putting weight on that leg.

Thanks to Mr. Fry for holding him while I bandaged. Daltrey is moving slower, but I am confident he's fine. I'm grateful to have seen and helped care for injuries worse than this at Iron Ridge. I didn't panic!

There are a dozen scenarios upon which I could postulate, but I can never truly know how this happened. All I can say for sure is that I'm glad I worked on the lesson I did last weekend, which is what today's post was supposed to be about. Next time ...

Food for Thought

2011-04-17T16:15:00.001-05:00

Quite a while ago, Heather found an extruded pellet feed that she's got her whole herd on. Iron Ridge buys it in bulk, but it is also sold in bags, and it's cheap; about $10 for 50#. I switched to this feed when Poco was still here. They grew to love it after having been on it for the 8-10 weeks they spent at the farm when D was weaned. It's the only feed Daltrey's ever had.

Complete Assurance is manufactured by Bluebonnet Feeds in Ardmore, OK. Some big name breeder helped develop it, and it is available exclusively at one little feed store in Whitesboro, Texas. According to the label, it contains all the protein (14.5%), fat (3.5%), calories and fiber (18%) needed daily, and it's fortified with Stride Horse Feed Supplement. I like that the first ingredient is alfalfa meal. It also says horses should not need any additional hay when fed according to directions. This stuff has allowed me to stop buying supplements without guilt.

If all they get is this feed, you're supposed to feed 1.5-2% of the horse's body weight daily, but my horses are turned out 24/7, and have free-choice hay and grazing, so they get less.

They always have a round bale, though grazing is sparse in our dust bowl of a pasture. If we don't give them hay, they start tearing the bark off the oak trees, more likely out of boredom than hunger. I also don't have a place to store square bales other than my trailer. I don't like to do that for obvious reasons.

Daltrey gets 2 full big scoops of feed once a day. Though butt-high and hollow-hipped, Daltrey's been holding his weight well. At no point has he gotten ribby, which the baby drafts and draft crosses are wont to do, especially just before a growth spurt.

Jaz gets about 1/2 of one of the small scoops, then he helps finish whatever Baby D flings. My friends call him my pregnant gelding. Jaz was scrawny when I first met him, and had been a hard keeper his whole life. You can feel his ribs (barely), and he's got big ole belly. He's certainly a more comfortable ride for me at this weight, and he doesn't get as cold. He's also not as goosey. He used to only be able to tolerate the softest bristle brush; his skin would just crawl. He's a happy boy these days, that's for sure.

What do you feed your horses? What supplements do you give? Are your horses pastured 24/7, or do they have limited, controlled turnout?

Product Review - Fly Free Zone Fly Collars

2011-04-15T16:24:00.000-05:00

I thought I'd give these a try since it's only April and the flies are already bothersome. They will only create a fly-free zone on the horse's head and neck, so you still have to spray their bodies.

I'm happy to report that they actually do work ...

... right up until the first rousing game of Bite-the-Face.

These lasted 2½ days.

If you have a horse that is pastured alone, or kept stalled, or if you have horses that just stand around and look at each other, I highly recommend them. If you have rowdy, rough-and-tumble geldings like mine, you may as well not bother.

And that's why we don't have anything nice around here.

My Delicate Grey Flower

2011-04-13T14:19:00.002-05:00

Jaz, who seems determined to bankrupt me a few hundred bucks at a time, went to the vet (again) last weekend.

He had started coughing periodically a few weeks ago, which I ignored at first. The next time I rode him, each time I kicked him into a trot, he coughed. Later that same day, he coughed when he and Daltrey began playing.
He has a quarter-sized patch of I-don't-know-what on his chest. I first thought it was a scrape, and just let it alone. Weeks passed and it's still there. I tried to peel the top layer, but the skin is thick, like a bumpy mole. My thought was either a bit of proud flesh or the start of a sarcoma.

The funky skin could be anything from what I mentioned to a place where bots have entered his body and set up a colony. Eww.

Dr. G put XTerra, an acidic brown salve, on the skin, left it on for a few minutes, and wiped it off. Sure enough, it ate off the top layer and left the area smooth, but open. He said to just leave it alone and watch it. I can't say for sure what it's going to do. If this doesn't work, he'll probably remove it surgically.

The cough, I was told, could be anything from allergies to COPD. It has been windy, and we have had no rain, so it's very dusty. Dr. G prescribed an antihistamine powder called Tri-Hist twice a day. It's the weirdest stuff. It's a powder in a corn meal base that is so fine, as soon as you touch it, the granules start bouncing off each other. It reminds me of animations of atoms. It smells sweet and citrussy to me, but Jaz didn't buy it. He wouldn't eat it mixed with dry food or with food moistened with water. I mixed it with a little molasses, drizzled it over his feed, and he licked the pan clean.

Because the cough was sporadic to begin with, I have no idea if this stuff is working. Only way to find out is either to get him going in the round pen or take him out on the road again, I guess. At least I can still ride him.

Back to the comment on COPD ... Dr. G said Jaz is pretty young for it to be that. At the time, I was relieved to hear that, but since I've had time to think about it, there's a nagging little thought at the back of my mind. Jaz had a life-threatening bout with strongyles in the winter of 2009. They were camped out in one of the main arteries of the heart. I was told any damage was permanent. I wonder ...

One of the tires on the trailer was flat and wouldn't hold air. We knew it was trashed before we even left and would need to be replaced, so we drove on it, rather than cancel the appointment. I already didn't have a spare, so now I have to buy two tires and have no way to take my pony to play days.

In other news, Spring is happily upon us.

With Spring, come flies.

Thought I'd try these citronella collars.

Hope you are all well. Prayers please for Kurt, one of my younger brothers who had 2 heart attacks last week, and for Heather, who found herself in the middle of 2 bitchy mares, to the tune of 40 stitches. I'm sure she'll tell us about it when she's off the pain meds.

The Cafeteria Lady's Proof

2011-04-07T05:53:00.000-05:00

This is after Daltrey had been eating a few minutes. The flinging is way worse when he first starts — I usually have to empty pellets out of my shoes. Mr. Fry calls it his tic. Part of the reason the Cafeteria Lady has a job is that if I put all his food in the pan at once, he'll fling 98 percent of it. He does this even if the food is in a bucket. The less food in the pan at one time, the more that stays there, so I dole out bits at a time. Note all the food on the rim of the tire and on the ground around it. When the bucket is empty and the pan is empty (for the last time), he and Jaz pick every last pellet from the sand. They're not the poster boys for Sand Clear, but they should be.

Flattery Will Get You ...

2011-04-03T13:15:00.002-05:00

... to Casa Fry!

We have a house guest this weekend you may know: Flat Stanley, or in this case, Flat Toryn.

In case you don't know him, Flat Stanley is a character in a children's book who is flattened in his sleep when a bulletin board falls on him. Stanley decides there are advantages to being flat and has many adventures by mailing himself to all sorts of places. The Flat Stanley Project involves young readers in creating their own Flat Stanley paper doll, and either mailing him or packing him in a suitcase to travel with friends and relatives. Then you take photos and keep a journal of activities from Flat Stanley's perspective. In some cases, students create flat likenesses of themselves; hence, Flat Toryn, whom I believe lives in California. I work with Toryn's aunt. My son did Flat Stanley when he was in school, and it was a lot of fun, so I jumped on the chance to bring Flat Toryn home.

Flat Toryn came wearing tennis shoes, which we all know don't cut it around ponies. So I made her cowboy boots and a hat.

Scored a last minute farrier appointment Friday night, so I got photos of her sitting on the pile of used shoes in Jon's trailer. He cleaned one up that I will send back with a couple slivers of hoof.

Flat Toryn helped with chores.

We went for a ride. Flat Toryn was rendered in such a way that I wasn't able to fashion a helmet, so she did not actually accompany us down the road. The real Toryn doesn't need to know that and Flat Toryn won't tell. I included some generic Walkabout photos in the packet to send back. I found an inexpensive nylon horn bag that I had never used, so I put all the items, plus a hand-painted metal ornament in it. If I were the little girl receiving this, I'd be squealing with delight. Hope she likes it.

The plan was to take Flat Toryn to Iron Ridge for play day today, but Heather canceled because of 40 mph winds. Her place is so open, we'd get sandblasted in the arena. Last time I rode in those conditions, I missed a day of work because my allergies went bonkers. Also, Jaz has developed a cough that I need to have checked out. He's had it for at least a week, and whenever we trotted yesterday, he coughed. I don't want to aggravate it by adding dust and sand.

How was your weekend?

Alive, Well, and ... Lazy

2011-03-27T17:06:00.001-05:00

The last few weeks at work have been intense. I've been working on a video project that is logistically challenging, to say the least. The script was finally approved last week, and distributed to the cast and crew. Filming is Monday through Wednesday of the coming week. I'll be so glad when we're done and it's in post production. That won't be the end of it, but the worst will be over. Or so I hope.

Temps dropped from the mid 80s to the upper 50s, and while not technically cold, it's grey and drizzly and feels a lot colder than it actually is. I'm bundled up in sweats and being a total spud. I don't even know if there was a pony play day today at Iron Ridge.

The Boyz are doing well. My friends keep teasing me that I have a pregnant gelding. That's because after spending most of his life scrawny, Jaz is (ahem) well-rounded, shall we say? He is getting back into shape, and is a much more comfortable ride at this weight than he is when he's narrower. I'm keeping an eye on his feet, but he keeps getting good reports from the vet and farrier, so I'm not too worried.

Daltrey continues to astound me with how tall he's getting. One of the SCAers took some photos last weekend and check this out. My goodness, he's just a yearling!

What did you do this weekend?

Ah, Spring!

2011-03-21T17:13:00.002-05:00

Saturday was a spa day for Jaz. For him, it's not so much about making him foofy as it is being proactive in dealing with his myriad skin issues. I roached his mane down to the bed, and clipped his ears, face, and fetlocks. Okay, maybe that last part was a little foofy. I then gave him a good scrubbing bath with copious amounts of tea tree oil shampoo. The most important part of the bath is his tail. Because he's so allergic to the no-see-ums, it's important to keep the base clean and slathered in Swat.

My computer is full of "nosy noser" photos like this.

We walked to the honey hole and I hand grazed him until he was dry.

At least then when he rolled, it was just sand on the surface rather than caked into his skin. Oh well, it's what they do.

I was not up to giving a yearling his first bath. I think Heather said he's been bathed before, but I haven't done it. And I'll bet when she did it, she had help. Maybe I'll try bathing him myself sometime, but only if that's the only thing I have to do. We settled for brushed, face washed, bridle path clipped, dewormed, and sprayed for flies. He actually likes having his face washed. It gave him sleepy eyes.

Bathing a horse is a whole lot like work. And when you're done, the horse is the only thing that's clean. Oh, the places I had hair.

Sunday I loaded Jaz in the trailer, and once again, Daltrey moseyed right on in.

I don't see what the big deal is.

I ain't skeered.

So Daltrey came to Iron Ridge and played while I rode Jaz. He got to see his mama, who was happy to see him for all of about 30 seconds before she made it clear she was so over him. When everyone else had gone, we closed the main gate and let Daltrey and Jaz graze in the yard while we sat and yakked. The gate to the arena was open and they started running and playing. Soon the entire herd caught wind of the game and we had 30+ horses running circles around 30 acres, bucking, and farting. It was beauteous. The best part was when Jaz put on his Ay-rab airs — head helt high, tail flagged, showing us his best "park pony" trot — and Daltrey was doing his best imitation. It was so cute! When it was time to go, Daltrey walked right back in the trailer again. Gotta love it.

Baby D is growing by fits and starts. He finally outgrew the yearling halter he's been in since birth. I got one like Poco's with the leather part around his head that is adjustable and removable from either side, and is also adjustable under the chin. I had to put a couple more holes in the chin part by heating a nail and melting the nylon. He looks like such a big boy now!

Texas has sprung into Spring with sunshine and temps in the 80s. Sunburned in March. Who'd o' thunk it?

Perfect Pony Play Day

2011-03-13T18:01:00.001-05:00

I was feeling lazy this morning, as in too lazy to load everything up and trailer a horse up to the farm. I thought I'd ride Jaz down our road. Mr. Fry, knowing I was battling inertia, began painting lovely scenarios of all my friends having a wonderful play day, and I would miss it, and then I'd be sorry, and blah blah blah. Okay, already. I get it. You want to sleep this afternoon (night shift) and it will be easier if I'm not here.

Jaz, the stinker, took took one look at the trailer and me heading his way with a halter and took off with Baby D on his heels. Fortunately, he didn't escalate that game and I had him the next try. Jaz doesn't load the first time anymore. I used to load Poco first, then Jaz would walk right in, but he takes a few minutes now. No big deal. In his moment of hesitation, Daltrey marched right on in there and started eating the hay in the hay bag. I didn't want to chase him out (are you kidding?) so Jaz and I just waited until he decided to stroll on out before trying again.

Pony Play Day today consisted of Nita, Heather, Sarah, Kris, and her vet friend Erin. Dr. Erin is a small animal vet who has always liked horses, but never had the opportunity ... well, you know the story.

Nita preps Ishka, who is going through a particularly awkward stage: seriously butt high and ribby, not to mention a winter coat like a yak. That's Heather behind, and yes, that is Pokey's butt on the right.

Dr. Erin rocks out on Nita's mare Keeley.

Sarah on Heather's mare Ash.

Old friends

Kris rode Ishka. Heather rode the Pokemon. Nita also rode Ish.

No superlative I can think of comes close to describing what a great time I had on Jaz today. We trotted up a storm. I don't think I have ever felt as relaxed, comfortable, and secure in my seat as I did today. I could have ridden like that all day.

Hope you had a wonderful weekend with your ponies.

Blazing a New Trail

2011-03-12T17:28:00.001-06:00

Today Jaz and I went down the other road in our development, which we have never done before. I drove it yesterday to get the lay of the land. It isn't connected at all to our road or any of the offshoots of it, so I never have any reason to be over there. It's much different than the road we live on.

Our road has 5-acre lots, while the other has 2-acre lots. There are more houses, more vehicles, more people, more dogs. The ride is shorter and the hills steeper. To get to the road, we have to ride several hundred yards on the easement of a fairly busy highway. As soon as I pointed him in that direction, Jaz started acting up. I couldn't get him settled, so I got off, only to discover that the reins were crossed under his chin. Oops. How did we do that? Fixed it, got back on, and off we went. He was on high alert, so I talked and sang to him the whole time. He didn't like some of the (to him) unusual things on the side of the highway, like mile markers, flood markers, etc., but we did a few circling moves and got past them.

We met a little girl named Crystal who was obviously enamored with Jaz. She was thrilled to feed him an alfalfa cube.

We didn't take one of the side roads off the main road because when I drove it yesterday, there were no less than 5 dogs running loose. Man, I hate when people let their dogs run. Spaniels and Yorkies don't have a lick of sense.

On the way back, along the section of highway I alluded to earlier, there was a group of about 6 horses pastured on the opposite side of the road from us. They had ignored us when we went by before, but this time they came charging toward the fence. They were far enough away that there was no excuse for Jaz to start calling, backing, spinning, etc. I was afraid he'd take us out onto the highway and get us killed! I got off and popped him about three times until he stood still and shut up. I mounted again and we went on, but the other horses were running and bucking, happy for the distraction, and for some reason, Jaz felt compelled to react. I ended up having to walk him to the entrance to our road. We are the first property and the honey hole is just across from us, so we stopped there before heading in the gate.

Mr. Fry said Baby D ate his grain and never called out. Good boy.

Last week when we rode at Iron Ridge, Kris's gelding Voodoo was out in the pasture inciting the other horses to riot. Jaz and I were in the arena, far, far away from the drama, but he acted up nonetheless. It's crazy to me that we were walking down the highway with motorcycles and semis whizzing past us and Jaz was fine. Horses far enough away and separated behind a fence should not be causing him to act like an ass. Any ideas on how to work on that?

I remember now why I'm tired: I must have dismounted and remounted 6 times.

Will we do it again? Maybe. Our road is the better ride. I may do it again just to shake Jaz up.

It's Someone's Birthday

2011-03-09T00:01:00.014-06:00

Who can it be?

Somebody tell me who!

Oh, it's ME! It's ME!

I wanna go to Chuckie Cheese! Shotgun!

Happy First Birthday, Baby D!

Moving On

2011-03-06T18:43:00.004-06:00

I loaded up Mr. Jaz for a pony play day at Iron Ridge. I thought about bringing Daltrey for the gratuitous trailer ride, but Mike was relaxing, and since I don't tie Daltrey yet, I would have had no way to close the trailer door after loading him. Just as good: he stayed home and got more experience at being alone like a big boy.

If there had been any doubt in my mind — there wasn't— as to whether I had done the right thing by Poco, today would have set my mind at ease.

I went out in the pasture to say hi to Poco and had a brief talk with him about what was going on, but he already knew. It's obvious he is happy and well-adjusted.

There was little by way of greeting between Poco and Jaz. It was more like, "Oh yeah, how are you?" There was no calling, no intense interaction. As a matter of fact, a total oddity occurred. We were in the arena, and I had dismounted to set up some barrels. Heather was still tacking up Poco on the opposite side of the fence, and I left Jaz directly across the fence from him so they were nose to nose. As I walked away from Jaz, he turned and called to me, which he has never done before. It touched my heart. He's starting to get it that he is now the Big Man around Casa Fry. I think he enjoys having all the attention. He even seems to mind me smooching on him less than before. He was pure sweetness, and as always, a joy to ride.

The only rough time I had was when Kris' Saddlebred gelding Voodoo was acting like Mr. Macho in the pasture while we were in the arena. I was a little pissed at Jaz, since he was reacting to drama from a long way away. He knows better.

When we returned home, I opened the door to let Jaz out of the trailer, and Daltrey walked right on in there. I praised him like crazy for that. He walked back out, and I released Jaz. Daltrey walked back in there, and again got tons of praise. Man, I hope it continues to be this easy.

Apparently, we have ALL moved on.

Walk Like An Egyptian

2011-03-04T14:12:00.001-06:00

An Egyptian Arabian, that is.

I took off from work today for the sole purpose of riding my sweet Jazu. I had hoped to ride at Iron Ridge, but Heather had client horses to work. Down the road we went. Okay, so it's not quite to infinity and beyond, but todo es bueno.

Handsome pony saddled — check.

Doofus boy distracted — check.

Open road ahead — check.

And we're off!

Jaz found a second honey hole
about halfway down the road.

"Yum. I shall recommend this eatery to all my friends."

Oh no! A horse-eating tire at the

edge of the original honey hole.

(That's our place across the road)

But the siren call of this lovely green

wins out over any obstacle.

The best part about the ride?

To Infinity & Beyond!

2011-03-02T19:30:00.002-06:00

Thanks to all who left such kind, supportive comments on my last post. I reread them several times in the first couple days when I needed a lift.

Coming to the decision to put Poco up for sale was a lot harder and more stressful than actually following through with it, although I honestly had no idea it was going to work out the way it did. Since he had already been up there for several weeks, I did not have the trauma of having to gather his stuff, load him up, and either drop him off or kiss him good-bye before he was whisked off. I left my phone at Iron Ridge on Sunday, so had to go up there Monday after work to fetch it. I thought I might get weepy seeing him, but I didn't. I'm so used to having my horses up there, some of theirs down here, etc., that it felt pretty normal to me. He was every bit the suck-up cookie monster he always is, so it all felt the same. He's not really gone, and that does make a big difference. No tears.

You know how some people are suited to the rigid structure of military life? That describes Poco's need for the more structured routine at Iron Ridge. He needs to be accountable every minute. Heather's been purposely controlling with whom he gets to share a paddock to make sure he's kept in his place. He may not like it, but it's what's best for him.

There are no hard feelings. Poco and I are even. We learned a lot from each other and are now on to the next and best place for us. I don’t have the ability to take him further and he doesn’t have the temperament to take me further. It’s like any relationship that’s run its course. Time to move on. No hard feelings at all.

The truth is, I feel more optimistic about my horse experience than I have in a long time. There was always a certain amount of feeling obligated to ride Poco. I knew that the longer I procrastinated, the worse it would be. When I rode him, it was all about attempting to maintain control and not eat dirt. I can hardly wait for the weekend to ride. Jaz will help me become a better rider, and when I'm ready, he'll step us up to the next level, and we'll have fun doing it. I'm excited again!

I will always love my Wildman Rockstar, but I am done with bad boys of any species.

Fate Takes an Unexpected Turn

2011-02-27T17:00:00.022-06:00

I apologize for the length of this post, but there's a lot of ground to cover, and it just won't work to split it into two posts.

After much soul searching, I made a major decision this weekend: to put Poco up for sale. You all know how I feel about the big lug, so I suspect I have your attention.

Although Poco and I have come a long way, he needs a much stronger and more capable rider than I am (and possibly will ever be) to bring out the best in him. It's not that I lack confidence in my ability, and I certainly strive to improve my skills, but I also have to be realistic. I will be 59 years old in May. I did not ride as a child, didn't grow up around horses. I naively bought Poco as my first horse in 2006. I am basically a weekend warrior, which means that I don't really get to ride enough to make dramatic improvements in the short term.

Poco is not a lesson horse, but that's how I've been using him. He has tolerated me on his back, but the last couple times I've ridden him, it's obvious he's whatever the equine equivalent is to bored and frustrated. You all know what I'm talking about when I say that I could feel him about to explode under me. It's been the grace of God and the bond we've built on the ground over the last five years that he hasn't purposefully ejected me.

And yet, if I take him down the road with Jaz on walkabout, he has always been perfect. As long as he's not the point horse, he is intrepid and will willingly do things that Jaz won't, like descend a (relatively) steep ravine, cross water, etc. Forget trying to get him out by himself. I've worked on the buddy-boundness as much as I am able, but again, it's the whole weekend warrior thing. He's already latched onto one of Heather's client horses, Cruz, since he's been up at Iron Ridge. Unfortunately, I don't always have the luxury of having another rider for our excursions, and our road is not a safe place to pony another horse.

I take 100% credit for Poco's impeccable ground manners, because when he came here, he had NONE. I'm proud of that, and grateful to have learned that I have a strength in that area. My instincts are best on the ground. Poco will do anything for me on the ground. He'll stand tied for hours and let me do anything I want. He loads on the first try. He's still a tad bit heavy-footed, but he does pick up his feet willingly. He doesn't crib, bite, or kick. Both times I've come off him, it's been because he was scared and I was unable to ride us out of it, which a more experienced rider may have been able to do. I have to work really hard in the saddle; it does not come easily to me.

All you have to do is read on Heather's blog what she has been able to get out of Poco, and it's obvious that the difficulties I have with him stem from my lack of ability, not his. I have to step up and say that this is as far as I can go with him, given the fact that I still have to work full time, and am not able to ride any more than I currently do to rise to this occasion.

Now, Poco and Heather have a love-hate relationship. She has his number and can make that horse do INCREDIBLE things. He hates that. And yet, he loves the challenge. He is thriving. I wish you could see how good he looks.

Poco actually has a lot of good qualities. He is completely sound and tough as nails. He has good feet and is very sure-footed. He has stamina to spare. You can't wear him out; you will just make him stronger. Although only 14.2hh, he is well able to carry a larger rider.

He's smart. I was goofing around with Jaz one evening after he'd finished his food. I taught him to touch and bump a ball using clicker training. Poco was sticking his nose in my pockets, trying to get the treats. I stepped away from them both to give Daltrey some more food, and I see Poco push his way in front of Jaz and start pushing the ball around, like, "So, how does this work? Where are my cookies?"

And I have learned so much from Poco. I knew nothing of the true nature of horses until I got him. I had to step up at every turn because of that crazy-ass, psycho gelding. He has played the pivotal role in how far I've been able to come.

I made the decision to put him up for sale, not expecting that anyone would buy him. And that's fine, because I committed that he has a home with me until death do us part. He is not one of those horses that pines away when he's not being used, though that's not really what I wanted for him. On those occasions when someone would come over, I loved being able to take him down the road. But, unlike Jaz, he's not a horse that you can not ride for a couple months then just jump on.

If the right circumstance were to present itself, I decided that I would not hold him back from being all that he can be.

That opportunity presented itself most unexpectedly.

When I told Heather of my decision, almost immediately, she suggested a trade: Poco for the remainder of what I owe on Daltrey. I was not expecting that AT ALL.

I heard myself say "done."

Over the last few weeks, I've felt Poco and I detaching from each other. I can't explain it. I have been troubled, and perhaps he has sensed that. When I went up there today to give him a spa day, uncharacteristically, he didn't want to be caught. I won, of course, but the point is: he is already her horse, and has been for weeks.

I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't bittersweet. Poco (or Poko, as he will now be known) was my first horse. My love for that beast made me weak in my knees, and probably always will. I am grateful that he is in a situation where he will be worked to the full extent of his potential by a kind, experienced rider and trainer. I am also grateful that I will still be able to see him, love on him, and ride him whenever I want.

I'd also be a liar if I said I wasn't excited. I very much like the new dynamic here with just Jaz and Daltrey. I had a fantastic ride on Jaz yesterday. I was able to concentrate on my riding rather than simply controlling my horse. My experience with Jaz has been that when I'm ready, he'll take us to the next level.

What a weekend it has been. So far, I haven't cried. Maybe that's because it hasn't really sunk in yet. Maybe it's because I constantly affirm that all is exactly as it should be. I feel like I've grown up, in a way, because I was able to set my emotions aside and make a decision based on what was best for both of us.

And life goes on.

First Walkabout of 2011

2011-02-20T09:15:00.002-06:00

It was a beautiful, sunny day with temps in the high 70sF. I decided to take Jaz out to see how Daltrey did by himself. I gave him a scoop of feed to distract him so he wouldn't follow us to the gate. Mr. Fry said he squawled and ran around a little, but he settled down pretty quickly. If he heard him, Jaz did not react.

Jaz has weathered the winter well — that is to say he's fat — so I only took him about half the distance we normally go. We're both out of shape, but every step was perfect. Jaz never flinched at the barking dogs or anything else. Heather used my saddle last, and she shortened the stirrups. I lengthened them, but took them up a notch higher than I had been. What a difference! I felt so much more secure in my seat while trotting. In the photos, I can see my alignment is much better.

Mr. Fry took these pix after we got back, and I have a bad case of helmet hair, but I bet none of you looks any better after a ride, so I don't mind. Hell, it is what it is.

Note to self: saddle needs to come a little forward next time.

It was later than I thought when we got back, so rather than head to Iron Ridge, I took Daltrey on a very short walkabout. Babies! He was a little scary. I was having a hard time keeping him in position behind and slightly to the side of me. He was anxious (as in nervous) and wanting to run out ahead of me. It didn't help that Jaz was carrying on. We did the whole walk going in circles so I could keep him (and me!) in a safe place. At one point, he leaped forward and bucked while only about half a lead's distance from me. I felt the air move beside my right ear. Had I been in a safe position to react quickly, he'd have really gotten it for that. As it was, I had to let it go, because he would not have know what he was being punished for. When I drew him back in, he leaned in and grabbed my arm with his lips. I was close enough to be able to pop him on the shoulder in a timely manner for that.

Note to self: wear a helmet next time I do ANYTHING with him. Carry a dressage whip (longer) rather than a crop so I don't need to be so close to administer a punishment.

Today I'm headed to the farm to see my barn buddies and my psycho gelding, who is making Heather earn her training fee. Haven't decided if I will take Jaz or ride one of theirs. Not a good idea for me to get on Poco just yet. He's not worn out enough yet to stop fighting.

Hope you're all having a great weekend that includes horses.

Sun at Last!

2011-02-17T05:15:00.003-06:00

Our crazy ice, snow and bitter temps are finally behind us, and we're back to the kind of weather that makes us the envy of our northern brethren. It's sunny, with temps in the 70sF — perfect, in my book.

On Saturday, after cleaning, laundry, and whipping up a batch of to-die-for chicken tortilla soup, I skedaddled to the outdoors and some pony time. The horses had been blanketed through 2 bouts of rain, sleet, freezing rain, and snow for more than a week. I was afraid to look.

Cindi caught some rays. I didn't get a picture of it, but Martha curled up on Jaz's blanket, which we had laid out on the concrete to air out. By the grace of God, Martha didn't get stepped on, because every time one of them moved, she barked furiously and nipped at their feet. I thought JRTs were supposed to have some sort of built-in horse sense. Nope.

How butt high is he? Judge for yourself.

Exhibit 1.

Exhibit 2
At this angle, the engine and the caboose are almost level.

No need to tell you what both horses did the second those blankets were off. I started with Jaz, because I wanted him to be completely done so he could stand there and be an example to Daltrey. Although it was still pretty muddy, that's actually sand. I set about cleaning him with a rubber curry. If we can believe what both my horses are telling us, Spring is on it's way, because they are shedding like crazy already. I had hair and sand in places you don't want to hear about.

Jaz had two small spots of rain rot on his shoulder, and a huge (and very tender) one on the right side of his neck. I soaked them with Listerine and Vitamin E, gently peeled the skin, and soaked it again. He flinched every time I touched it, but ya gotta do it. It's already looking much better, and one more treatment ought to do it.

Meanwhile, Daltrey was being a total pest. In the photo above, Jaz and the hitching post are to the right, and all my grooming stuff is to the left. Daltrey kept wanting to drink the water, which by the end was quite icky from cleaning Jaz's sheath and butt. YUK! No kisses for you! And he kept pulling stuff out of the caddy, trying to break into the cookies, chew on rags, engage Jaz in Bite the Face ... you get it. He also kept coming up behind me and laying his head on my shoulder, like, "Whutcha doin', Mom?" As endearing as that was, of course, I had to chastise him for violating my space. I was tired before I even started on him.

Finally, it was Daltrey's turn. As I hoped, Jaz stood like a champ. Daltrey was a little dancey, and wasn't good for quite as long as I know he can be, but I was able to do what I needed to do. No rain rot, no injuries, just shedding out — you can see wads of hair on the ground.

I took this shot so you can see how tall our baby is getting. He will be a year old on March 9.

When I fed them last evening, and Daltrey was mostly done (except for all the food he'd flung), I gave Jaz the okay to move in. Normally, he just moseys over and they share in the cleanup. Instead, Jaz pinned his ears and postured that he'd bite. I'll be darned if Daltrey didn't turn around, pin his ears, and stand his ground. Poor Jaz will end up at the bottom of the herd again.

Is it winter or hinting that Spring is on the way? How have your horses fared this winter?

Enough, Already

2011-02-09T19:19:00.000-06:00

I have this thing every year about wanting at least one guilt-free stay-home day that I can blame on the weather. Today was my 4th day home out of the last 8 work days, and it's to the point where it's enough, already.

This is our second round of uncharacteristically inclement winter weather, with frigid temperatures, biting winds, and layers of ice and snow. We knew it was coming, so I've been working like a demon to get everything done I needed to that I would be unable to accomplish at home, and brought home whatever I could.

The cold and cranky Cafeteria Lady — who is on duty in rain, snow, sleet, or hail for 45 minutes to an hour every evening — is fixin' to bitch-slap Ole Man Winter.

"How bad was/is it," you may ask. Bad enough that Jaz and Daltrey actually took shelter in the run-in shed. NEV-ER happens. This is the first time in almost five years I've ever seen them choose to be in there when food isn't involved.

Speaking of food, Mom ...

Don't you love how his belly

sticks out of the blanket?

Popsicle ~~toes~~ hooves

Waiting for Baby to finish ...

... or at least until Mom says it's okay to share.

Unlike Piggy Poco, Jaz usually doesn't run him off.

Meanwhile inside, Leeloo and Minnie

find a sunny spot.

The Ratweasels (Martha and Cindi),

who barely tolerate each other,

create a puppy pile for warmth.

Should be in the 60sF this weekend,

but it's bound to be muddy.

I'd like to get up to Iron Ridge to see Pokey.

This weather has delayed his training

by at least a week, probably more.

>giggle<

Wonder if he's still mad at me?

Sony SUCKS

2011-02-05T11:00:00.004-06:00

This is a rant because it's my blog and I can.

On December 27, 2008, I bought a Sony DSC-W170 Cyber-shot point -and-shoot camera. For a short while, it worked fine, but then one day in 2009 when I turned it on, the lens kept extending and retracting, and I got a message to turn the camera off and on again repeatedly. I got online with Sony chat support and they walked me through the re-initialization process, which fixed it. But it kept happening. Seemed like I was having to re-initialize the dang thing about every other week. Finally, the day came when that no longer worked. At some point in 2009, I had to send it in for service. I had to pay for insured UPS shipping, but the warranty covered the service. They never said exactly what they did, but I suspect they replaced the whole lens assembly — basically the entire guts of the camera.

At least once after I got the camera back, I had to use online chat support to diagnose and correct other issues, and then it started the same cycle again — déjà vu — and I was having to re-initialize the dang thing every other week or so. Yesterday, as before, that would no longer fix the problem.

I called Sony support this time and got "Brian" from Budapest (or Bali or Bangkok or Botswana), whose script required him to apologize for my inconvenience as the start of each sentence. First he told me they had no record of ever having serviced my camera. He searched by serial number and found me. Then he told me I need to send the camera in — again — and asked if I purchased an extended warranty. I did, but guess what? It expired December 27, 2010. Of course it did. So now, I'd be charged for shipping and service.

I'm not stupid, and I'm not unreasonable. I know stuff wears out and doesn't last forever. But this camera has not been dropped or abused in any way, has a documented history of this same issue, and Sony wants to make it my problem? Really?

I emailed them a message via their website, and told them I intended to tell anyone who would listen that Sony SUCKS. They responded with an automated email thanking me for taking the time to write, because my feedback will help them get better. Then they had the cojones to send another automated email wanting me to take a survey rating their customer service. It was tempting, but it's an exercise in futility, since it's all automated responses. I'm not going to waste my time; it will just piss me off more than I already am.

I won't pursue repairing the camera again. I'm sick of crappy quality and companies that refuse to stand behind their products. I got a Canon PowerShot A3000 as my 15-year service award from my company. I gave it to Mike, but will share with him until such time as I can afford to buy another. I can assure you, it will not be a Sony. Nor will any other electronic device I buy be a Sony. No baloney.

Frightful, Not Delightful

2011-02-04T09:00:00.001-06:00

Jaz has finally stopped calling for Poco and settled into his new role as Herd Leader and Chief Nanny to Baby D. Meanwhile, North Texas got kicked in the booty with the storm that has buried much of the country. We had been watching the forecast carefully, so I made sure I had dropped Poco's blanket off at Iron Ridge, and that Jaz and Daltrey were blanketed before it started.

Mr. Fry, back on night shift (boo, hiss), left before the storm started. He took a change of clothes with him, which ended up being a good thing, because his company was kind enough to put them up in a hotel. As with the last storm, this one started as rain. Temps dropped, and it turned to sleet, freezing rain, then "thunder snow," which completely wigged out Chula the Doberman in the middle of the night. By morning, we had a lovely layered parfait: a crust of ice on top, then snow, then varying thicknesses of solid ice underneath. Temps never got warmer than the low 20s F, flattening to the low teens as highs, with lows of 5-7° F. We had biting 40 mph winds.

Yanks and Canadians can scoff all you want about how this is nothing, but keep in mind: this is Texas. Not only are we not used to this; we are ill equipped to deal with it. Most of us do not have clothing suitable for such bitter weather. Southern heating systems aren't designed to withstand sustained cold temps. Our heat pump froze the first day. Schools across the Metroplex and surrounding areas have been closed for four days. We've had rolling power blackouts.

I grew up in the Northeast, so I'm not afraid to drive in inclement weather. However, I commute 43 miles each way to work, most of which is farm roads. I took off two days and figured yesterday it would be cleaned up enough to not be a major hassle driving. I could not have been more wrong. It took me 1.5+ hours each way. I was truly amazed at how bad it still was. We don't have chains and snow tires here. I saw someone two cars in front of me and only doing maybe 30 mph do a couple donuts into the opposite lane and off the road. There are places where the ice was several inches thick. They may throw some sand in the roads, but that's about the extent of snow management down here.

There was a 30% possibility of 1-2 more inches of snow today, which would have been enough of a mess. But that changed during the night. We have 3-4" on top of the ice, and McKinney, where I work has more than 6". Nope, ain't happening. You can't even see where the road is. And it's still snowing. Bitter cold temps prevail and they are calling for the dreaded "wintry mix" again on Monday.

And what do we have to look forward to? MUD. The inevitable rain rot under those blankets. Gunky hooves. Poco's training being delayed.

It's official: I am SO over this.

How The Mighty Have Fallen

2011-02-01T08:00:00.002-06:00

Evelyn: You know, nasty little fellows such as yourself

always get their comeuppance.

Beni: They do?

Evelyn: Always.

— The Mummy (1999)

Stopped by Iron Ridge to drop off Poco's blanket, as well as payment for his training.

Oh my.

Heather put Poco in the paddock with the young stallions. She said Poco strutted in, declaring that he was the boss. Remember Scorch, who stayed with us for awhile last winter when Jaz was sick? Scorch, now a huge 3-year-old Stonewall Sport Horse, said, "You mean, you used to be the boss," and whomped the snot out of my boy.

Bwahahaha! Our evil plan is working!

See, Poco is a legend in his own mind. Up to this point, he has managed to dominate every horse he's ever been around, which pretty much explains his attitude. This is a very good thing!

Poco looked up at my greeting, but wouldn't come over to the fence to see me. He is sulking, big time. Finally, he walked over and I saw the nasty bite Scorch left on his nose. That has got to smart. Then — I admit it — Heather and I started laughing. I wish you could have seen Poco's expression. He backed off and turned his butt to us, which only made us laugh harder. My answer to his gesture of disrespect was to pick up a stone and chunk it at his fat ass, sending him shuffling off in a huff.

Got a text later from Heather than she and Poco went head-to-head in the round pen. He's already trying the old, "Aw c'mon, I didn't really mean all that" routine. What a suck-up! Heather said he was lathered and penitent.

[rubs hands together gleefully] I'm gonna enjoy this next 30 days way more than I should.

Ooh, It's Your Attitude

2011-01-30T08:15:00.011-06:00

"You got to learn to be positive, it's your only chance,

You mustn't be so defensive, you gotta join in the dance

It's not your manners, that you gotta improve

Ooh, it's your attitude."

— "Attitude," (Ray Davies) The Kinks, from their 1979 album, "Low Budget"

Dr. G assessed Poco's movement, flexed joints, etc., and thinks it's most likely mild arthritis in the hock. It can't be all that uncomfortable, because he tears around here like a banshee with the other two. It is likely the episodes under saddle are just Poco being Poco. After a frank discussion, we agreed on what some might deem an unorthodox treatment plan.

Poco will go into hard, full-bore training with Heather for 30 days. Dr. G's exact words were,"I want that horse doing 30 miles of fences every day, then running cattle 'til midnight. When I walk up to him, I don't want him swinging that head up, looking at me and and dancing around. I want to see him trying his best to be invisible — 'Please don't pick me. I'm too tired.'" Poco has stamina for 3 horses, and Dr. G said to hitch him up to a big 'ole log and make him drag it around — whatever it takes. If he acts like he's in pain (besides regular soreness from all that work), of course, it will be addressed immediately. In any case, after two weeks, we start giving him Bute and assessing his movement, level of discomfort, and behavior under saddle. We'll decide from there what happens next.

The logic is that given Poco's normal attitude, if we were to give him Bute at this point, and that hock starts feeling better, his behavior under saddle will be that much worse. Remember the success I had last summer when I would wear him out in the heat for 30 minutes before the "real" ride started? Same premise.

I drove straight from Dr. G's to Heather's. My phone was plugged in at home, and I didn't want the hassle at the gate from the other two fretting ponies to fetch it, so poor Heather didn't even get a warning call. Fortunately, I know there's always room if I need it.

I have been toying with having Heather put 30 days on Poco anyway because he's been such a snot lately, so I'm good with the way this is playing out. I will take some lessons while he's up there as well.

This is also good for Jaz. He and Poco are so buddy-bound, they're embarrassing. I looked out earlier and saw Jaz masturbating (mare people, that's whacking himself on the belly with his erect wienie), while bellowing for Poco like a distressed moose. He'll learn he won't die without Poco, and interact more with the baby. He'll be the boss hoss until the Big Man returns. Poor Jaz is never the boss of anybody!

This is good for Daltrey, too, because Poco lets him get away with anything and everything. He chews Poco's tail and bites the crap out of his neck, and Poco just stands there and takes it. Jaz won't. Wouldn't you have guessed it would be the other way around? It will do Daltrey a world of good to learn that you don't tug on Superman's cape, and other valuable lessons in herd dynamics. It will give me an opportunity to ride Jaz out and get Daltrey used to being alone.

So Heather gets to have her way with Poco for the next 30 days. After we talked, she called Dr. G herself, to make sure she was clear on what he wanted and that there were no restrictions on working him.

Interesting new dynamics are afoot at Casa Fry and Iron Ridge, which should add to your blogging entertainment both here and at Heather's blog, Drafts With Dots. Do stay with us!

And say a prayer for Heather. Poco will make her earn every dime I'm paying her.

* * * * * * * * *

Acknowledgment: I want to thank the kind folks who gave me the Stylish Blogger Award: Many Misadventures, Green n Green = Black n Blue, and Homestead Hope. I can't think of a dang thing to tell you about myself that would be at all interesting or add value, so I humbly decline. If there's something you want to know, ask and I'll tell you.

Lame in More Ways Than One

2011-01-28T16:15:00.004-06:00

Got the word from Heather that the Iron Ridge arena had dried out enough to ride. We wait til about noon now, until it warms up to get started, so I used my morning to get the trailer hooked up, tires checked, etc., and groomed everybody.

Plan A was to take Poco and Jaz, since Poco needed to be ridden. I haven't been on a horse since Thanksgiving, and wanted to ride Jaz. I knew I probably wouldn't have the energy to ride both, but I wanted to see how Daltrey would do on his own. Mr. Fry, the old softie, said I was mean and that he (Baby D) isn't ready for that. He was so sincere, I let him call it, so now (Plan B) Poco and Daltrey would stay home.

I groomed and wormed Poco, then made him stand there while I tied the baby. The only problem was when I haltered him and couldn't get him to walk with me, but once we got over that, I couldn't have asked for better. It was the longest he's ever stood tied. I was able to brush him, worm him, clip a bridle path, trim his tail, wash his face, butt and sheath, and not only lift, but pick all four feet.

My plan was to leave Jaz for last so I could just throw a saddle on him when I got to the farm. It was a good plan, except I found 2 big nasty patches of rain rot just below his withers on his left side. They are always so sensitive, and these were no exception. I applied our homemade Listerine/vitamin E oil mixture to soften the scabs. One was fine, but I lifted a hunk of skin about the size of a silver dollar off the other, which rendered Jaz not rideable.

Plan C — and not what I really wanted to do: Take Poco, leave Jaz and Baby D.

I had asked Heather for a little one-on-one, since Poco's been going through one of his resistant and belligerent spells. True to form, he was uncooperative and resisted turning. As with the last couple times I've ridden him, he gets to a point where he squeals in what I can only assume is frustration. Heather got on and he was just as bad, which surprised both of us. He even lifted his back feet a few inches off the ground. Heather got off, and longed him.

He's off ever-so-slightly on his left hind (the one with the sock). He's throwing that leg outward laterally. It's very slight, but it's there. Tacked him down and Heather thought she found an owwy place on his back, and indeed, when I massage that area, he drops the hip and leans into it. He flexes willingly in both directions, and he has even let me pick up that leg and stretch it waaay out behind him. It is not deterring him from bucking and playing with his buddies, however.

It's difficult to tell how much is actual discomfort and how much is just Poco being Poco, but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being. I made an appointment with the vet. Stay tuned.

Baby D's First Walkabout

2011-01-27T16:49:00.006-06:00

Concerned nannies.

Where are you taking our baby?

One of many hesitations.

We didn't go too far,

maybe 1/8 - 1/4 mi.

before he began to get anxious.

I coaxed him forward another

dozen or so steps for the win,

then we turned around.

Daltrey, this is the Honey Hole.

It's what awaits you at the end of a walkabout.

If you're a good boy, that is.

And so it begins.

Weather or Not

2011-01-16T10:14:00.002-06:00

It started off as rain last week and turned to this. I had blanketed the horses the night before, which means they were wet to some degree under there. I really hate doing that. In a case of non-fortuitous timing, we realized they had finished their round bale on a Sunday. Not only did we not have time the following week to get another one, but it was too wet to move one onto the property.

Meanwhile, the temperature dropped as low as 18°F. It was gray, cold, and for once, the snow stuck around for awhile. Mr. Fry bought 4 square bales at a time and we started pumping extra groceries into everyone to help them stay warm. Poco was fine, but Jaz and Baby D were cold.

Here we are in the shed, out of the wind. You can see how wet he is. The Cafeteria Lady could not feel her fingers and toes. This is Texas, and so rare is the need, I just don't have clothing for temps like this. Heather has blankets in every possible size, and lent Daltrey this one. I already need to trade it out for a bigger one. Although adjustable, this is about the biggest it will go. It's a little short on the caboose.

A tiny brag on my boy: It took all of about 2 minutes to convince him the blanket wouldn't eat him. I didn't even have a lead rope on him.

Farrier day was the day prior to the snow storm — perfect cast.

Finally, we have more seasonal temps between the 30s-low 50s. Time for a new round bale and time to take blankets off. Jaz has a few spots of rain rot, which comes as no shock. The hard, frozen ground has given way to mud.

Blue sky — how novel.

The Boyz enjoyed a few hours of sunshine with their heads buried in the round bale. Nonetheless, they didn't lolligag when they heard the lid to the feed locker. Imagine their disappointment that we're back to normal portions of feed.

The nice weather didn't last. It's gray, foggy, and damp, with brief periods of rain so light, it's more like heavy mist. Temps are in the low 40s; no need to blanket. I will be enjoying the day inside with Mr. Fry until it's time once again to don my other persona:

What's it like in your part of the world?

Bad Behavior

2011-01-12T05:34:00.001-06:00

SOMEbody needs to be ridden BIG time, and I prolly don't even need to say his name.

As I said in an earlier post, the routine is always the same: Jaz gets fed first, then Poco, then Baby. The big Boyz know to go stand patiently and politely by their pans as I dispense feed. They know to take a step back when I reach them, which Jaz, of course, does.

However, Poco is standing by Daltrey's pan. As I walk to Poco's pan, I snap him on the butt (through his blanket, I might add) with the crop and tell him to beat it. So what does the knucklehead do? Instead of going to his feed pan, he storms over to the porch slab and stands there with his butt to us. I said, "You know, you keep that up and I'm not beyond letting you go without. You're too chubby to be pathetic." I walk past him, pour the food in his pan, and move on to Daltrey.

I give Daltrey his food and position my chair so I can watch Poco out of the corner of my eye. He keeps turning around to see what I'm doing. Finally, I guess he figures out I'm not buying into his brattiness, so he sort of slinks over to his pan and eats. When he finishes, he sidles over to us (Baby and I are in the shed) and stands quietly outside. He doesn't even try to sneak closer.

I think that first ride (since before Thanksgiving) on my snotty pony might be a doozy.

Who's the Smartest of Them All?

2011-01-09T12:22:00.000-06:00

We have a winner!

A Day Late and ... You Know

2011-01-08T08:15:00.003-06:00

I overheard a conversation last week wherein one person wished another Happy New Year, then asked if there is a set time after which it is no longer acceptable to do so. They agreed that you should say Happy New Year the first time you see people that year, but not beyond the month of January. I made it: Happy New Year, dear blogger buddies!

You may have noticed (or not) that it's been awhile since I posted. There are a number of reasons for that. My dental emergency just before Christmas seems to have compromised my entire immune system, so it's been a battle to stay well and mobile. The prolonged period of inactivity has taken its toll on my creaky body, but I believe I'm finally on the upside of all that nonsense.

Work has been busy, and after writing for eight hours a day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is writing some more.

I haven't ridden since about Thanksgiving, either due to other commitments, stinky weekend weather, or just not feeling up to it.

If you look back over my posts since Daylight Savings Time kicked in, most of them are either subjects I've researched, or revolve around feeding time at Casa Fry. I commute an hour each way to my job. This time of year it's dark when I leave in the morning and close to it when I get home in the early evening. Whenever I am able, I cut out of work a few minutes early so I get to see the Boyz in a few minutes of daylight.

When I get home, I change my clothes, bundle up, and spend 45 minutes to an hour in my role as Cafeteria Lady, in good weather and bad. I have to stay with them until Daltrey is done eating so he gets his full portion of food. The ironic part about only seeing the horses to feed them during the week is that I'm actually spending more time with them on a consistent basis. What has surprised me is the quality of that time.

Would you look at our BIG, butt-high baby boy? His butt is up to my shoulders, but his withers are a good 4-6 inches below that. He's holding his weight well. He's super social and curious. He is 10 months old, so his attention span is still short (or nonexistent), and he's a bit of a spaz. We're learning basic manners, such as being touched all over, not nibbling people, leading, picking up feet, and (to me) the biggest one — stay the hell out of my space, goober. Mike and I jokingly call him an "empty kettle" because he doesn't know anything, although he's not dumb, by any stretch.

It's a joy to see Jaz in such good health. This time last year, we were battling strongyles, which he likely had for a long time. We call him our "delicate grey flower" because he's always the first to react to the weather. No joke: I used to have to blanket him if it dipped much below 60°. Although temps have dipped into the 30's, he's been warm and happy. This evening they are forecasting a "wintry mix," and this is the first time I feel like I probably should blanket them.

In the evenings, when Jaz and Poco have finished their token portions of food — neither of them need it — they hang out, waiting for the OK to finish the food Daltrey has flung. Jaz and I have a game we play. I'll be sitting in my chair, and Jaz will come up behind me and put his nose on the top of my head or one of my shoulders, and wiggle his nose. That's my signal to make a pinching motion in the air with my hand, and he puts his nose between my fingers, so I can gently grab it and wiggle it. If I try to ignore him, he will gently muss my hair or nibble my hat or hood. He loves this game.

>sigh< As you can plainly see, Poco is as broad as a freakin' barge, and his attitude screams that he needs to be ridden BIG TIME. At meal time, he and I play head games. So, what else is new? He and Jaz both know the routine inside and out: they may stand and watch as I load their buckets, but as I am closing the grain locker, they make their way to their pans, where they are expected to stand at a respectable distance while I dispense the food. Jaz gets fed first, then Poco, then Baby. Lately, Poco marches his fat ass over to Daltrey's pan and waits there until I run him off. Then he goes over and runs Jaz off, grabbing as many mouthfuls of Jaz's food as he can until I can get over there to herd him over to his own pan.

Surprisingly, Poco is not as pushy at the waiting game as Jaz, who is stealthy and relentless. Poco finds a place close to me, and parks himself until I give the all-clear to grab the spoils. He likes to put his nose just next to my ear, or he'll put his head down so I can whisper in his ear, which he absolutely loves. He's not above a bit of gentle nuzzling to get my attention.

Most nights, the sun has already gone down by the time I get home, but sometimes I get lucky.

Actually, you know what? I'm lucky every darn day.

Give It a Whorl

2010-12-27T19:15:00.001-06:00

A few weeks ago, I noticed that Daltrey has a double whorl on his forehead, in addition to having seemingly endless cowlicks all over his body. I had heard that there was a pseudoscience whereby the temperament of a horse is determined by these whorls and swirls. Curious, I did a little digging, and here — solely for your entertainment — is what I found.

According to Chris Irwin, studies were done that showed hair whorls develop before any other body hair and are directly linked to the development of brain matter.
Typically, the whorl(s) on a horse's face will be located more or less between the eyes. If it is above above that, the horse is more aware; if lower, then close minded.
The more geometric and symmetrical the whorl, the greater the horse's ability to focus. Muddled or elongated whorls indicate a horse that has difficulty focusing.
If the whorl is off center to the left (as you look at your horse), it means he is complicated but trustworthy. If it's offset to the right, he is likely to be less cooperative.
A double whorl indicates two personalities. If side-by-side, the personalities will be similar, but if they are stacked, the personalities will be contradictory and likely unpredictable.
Horses with whorls where the hair grows clockwise tend to favor going to the right; counterclockwise, to the left.

So, what do I have?

Here's Baby D, with his 2 slightly muddled, more or less side-by-side whorls, both centered, slightly above his eyes, running counterclockwise. Hmmm.

You should have seen this one coming: at eye level, denoting average intelligence, symmetrical, running counterclockwise and slightly off center to the right, indicating a less cooperative nature.

And of course, Mr. Perfect: perfectly symmetrical, right where it should be, running clockwise.

It was an interesting way to pass the time on a day when it was too muddy to ride.

What do whorls say about your ponies?

Über Goobers

2010-12-19T17:15:00.000-06:00

A secret pact? What's that?

One for all and all for one.

Oh, now I get it.

No, I really don't, but don't tell them.

I just want to be one of the guys.

People are so interesting.

Dad, you smell funny!

Hahaha! The kid cracks me up!

Sing it with me:

Anticipation, anticipa-yay-tion

Is making me late

Is keeping me waitin'

Vultures loom.

Moving in for the kill.

To the patient go the spoils.

Sometime's You're the Windshield ...

2010-12-16T05:36:00.005-06:00

When you're rippin' and a ridin'
And you're coming on strong
You start slippin' and slidin'
And it all goes wrong because

Sometimes you're the windshield

Sometimes you're the bug.

— "The Bug" (Mark Knopfler)

from the 1991 Dire Straits album "On Every Street"

I've been riding on greased rails these last few weeks. I've gotten an enormous amount accomplished both at home and at work, and have been feeling pretty darn smug about it. Wrapped a major video project. Got the last issue of our magazine for the year put to bed. We're all set for Christmas save the usual few last minute straggler gifts. I had minor surgery scheduled for Wednesday, December 15th, had all the paperwork done, the deductibles paid, etc.

I had extensive restorative dental work about 15 years ago, and it's all held up beautifully until last week. A back bottom molar (#18, if you are dentally inclined) that has had a root canal and a crown started becoming uncomfortable. The veneer had worn, and it was lower than the one in front of it, placing undue pressure on the tooth in front of it. Since I already had an appointment in January, I was hoping to limp it along until then, because as anyone knows who has had this type of work done, it's expensive, even with dental insurance. And it was annoying more than anything.

Splat!

That was the sound of me hitting the windshield of an oncoming semi, in a figurative sense, of course.

To abbreviate a woeful, protracted tale, after a sleepless weekend, the root canal needed to be retreated, which I didn't even know was a possibility. Didn't you think that once you had a root canal, you were done with problems with that tooth? Then you were wrong, too! If the crown develops a leak, bacteria gets down in there and can wreak havoc. And oh, it did. I have an infection in my jaw, am on antibiotics, am still in pain, had to postpone my surgery until January. I have at least one more appointment with the endodontist, then I'll have to replace that crown. It's only money, right?

The good news? It's certainly kept me out of the Christmas goodies. I can't open my mouth wide enough to eat them, and if they're small enough to fit, I can't chew them. See? There's a silver lining in every wintry cloud.

God Bless Texas

2010-12-06T04:45:00.001-06:00

Texas is the finest portion of the globe
that has blessed my vision.

— Sam Houston

There's One in Every Family

2010-12-01T20:15:00.002-06:00

We're like any other family.
Most of us are just average joes.

But there's one in every family ...

the different one.

They show up around the holidays, eat your food,
loom like turkey buzzards around the punch bowl,

talk too much, laugh too loud.

They don't fit in at all,

but we try to make the best of it.

It's only once a year, right?

Lucky us.

In our family, it's twins.

"Lucky" is not the word I'd use.

Pass the damn eggnog.

Forsooth! SCA at Iron Ridge!

2010-11-30T20:30:00.002-06:00

The SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism)

visits Iron Ridge!

What are those people doing?

And why?

Mr. Fry enjoys a cigar

while talking to a tall dark stranger (Jason).

Nita watches the fun with

Fiacha the Blue.

To read more about the day, see

Heather's post.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2010-11-26T07:00:00.008-06:00

Tommy, can you hear me?
Can you feel me near you?

— Pete Townshend (The Who) from the 1969 album, "Tommy"

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving to my American blogger buddies. I hope you all had a wonderful day that included pie. Well, I guess anybody’s day could be wonderful and include pie, so the wish can be all-inclusive.

As mentioned in my previous post, we have known since birth that Daltrey is hearing impaired to some degree due to his extreme splashed white pattern (read about splashed white here, and look in the right column for links to all the color/pattern posts).

Not all foals with splashed white pattern are born deaf, but there’s a fairly high probability that they will be hearing impaired to some degree. Mating two affected horses will not necessarily produce an affected foal. Not all splashed white foals have blue eyes. It is inaccurate to attribute hearing impairment to the blue eye color; both traits are caused by splashed white in horses. Hearing impairment is caused by a lack of pigment in part of the inner ear.

Figuring out if your horse has a hearing problem and/or to what degree is not as easy as you might think. Like night blindness, some horses adapt better to it than others. Poco is night blind, but you'd never know it. Because Daltrey is so young, he’s still trying to figure out how his world works, and he has the double whammy of being both night blind and hearing impaired.

Some horses, like some people, are more reactive than others. One horse may spook at the slightest sound, while others seem to take everything in stride. Also like people, horses do not respond to every sound they hear. Although horses instinctively pay attention to the vocalizations of other equines, as well as sounds that are not part of their normal repertoire, they filter out much of what they hear. This helps them make sure that only relevant sounds are acted upon. We ignore most of the sounds around us even though we can certainly hear them. It’s this ability that allows us to filter out dozens of different conversations at a cocktail party and focus on only one.

I’m still learning what Daltrey can and can’t hear. I think that overall, his hearing is muffled or muted to some degree. For example, I have fed him in the run-in shed during rains and high winds, with acorns and stuff hitting the sides and roof. Sometimes he seems to acknowledge sounds, but isn’t startled or upset by them. What’s funny is when the other two bolt because of a noise, and he bolts because they do, though I know he has no idea why he’s running. I think the only sounds he perceives as sharp are percussive sounds like gunshots, car backfires, etc. I believe most of his impairment is in the mid-range. I know he can hear the sound of my voice when I call him, even if he’s in the back pasture. He can also hear things like the chain saw, weed whipper, electric saws, etc., that are higher pitched. He doesn’t react to a whisper or a soft voice inches from his head.

I’m not overly concerned about Daltrey’s hearing impairment. In fact, everything in my research pretty much brushed it off as being no big deal. Combined with his already laid-back temperament, it should be an asset for a trail horse. The biggest repercussions involve modifying training techniques. They can’t rely on voice cues, so must be trained using visual cues on the ground and tactile cues under saddle. The only other major consequence is learning to help your horse not be startled by the unseen and unexpected approach of people or other animals. But don’t most of us already do that, for safety’s sake?

Disclaimer: I am not a veterinary professional. Information in this post is for entertainment purposes only and came from the following sites: www.equisearch.com, www.frankbuchman.com, www.thehorse.com, www.australianwesternhorseshowcase.com.au.

Behind Blue Eyes: Congenital Stationary Night Blindness

2010-11-20T12:01:00.011-06:00

Tommy, can you see me?
Can I help to cheer you?

— Pete Townshend (The Who) from the 1969 album, "Tommy"

One evening soon after Daltrey came home, I was spreading Fly Eliminators in the back pasture. The sun had set, but I could still see clearly. As I headed back to the house, I noticed Daltrey standing close to the culvert that bridges the front and back of the property. It seemed odd, because at that time, he still stuck pretty close to his nannies, who were nowhere to be seen. In any case, he wasn’t grazing, just standing there, about 50 paces away. I greeted him in a normal tone of voice, and the little guy jumped straight up. He obviously hadn’t seen or heard me coming, although he was looking right at me.

If you followed Heather’s genetics posts, you know that Daltrey exhibits a number of color and pattern traits gone wild. Seems like if there was any chance of a pattern gene expressing itself, it did in him. We’ve known since his birth that Daltrey is congenitally hearing impaired to some degree, related to his extreme splashed white pattern (read about splashed white here, and look in the right column for links to all the color/pattern posts). That’s a post for another day. The splashed white pattern is also responsible for Daltrey’s startling blue eye color, which does not affect his sight.

However, Daltrey is also homozygous for leopard-pattern complex (LP/LP), which was directly tied to congenital stationary night blindness (CSNB) in a 2005-2006 study. Appaloosas that are heterozygous for LP (LP/lp) are not affected by CSNB. Horses that are true solid, non-characteristic Appaloosas, with no dominant copies of LP (lp/lp), are also not affected by CSNB.

Click on chart to enlarge.
Daltrey is best represented by the bottom row, third from left.
Poco is bottom row, second from right.

So, coat patterns that indicate the presence of two dominant copies of LP are associated with CSNB. The amount of white patterning they display is not important, except that when they have moderate to large amounts of patterning, they are easier to classify correctly as being homozygous for LP. Horses homozygous for LP born with no coat patterning are also night blind.

There may be a variety of causes for CSNB in horses, but we’re looking only at the type found in Appaloosas. CSNB has been detected in other breeds (Paso Fino, Thoroughbred, Quarter Horse, Belgian), none of which were Paint or Appaloosa patterned.

Night blindness is not a single disorder. A horse can have a form of night blindness and not have CSNB (uveitis is the most common other cause). In general, the term CSNB is used to describe impaired/absent night vision, which is present at birth, inherited, and non-progressive. Incidentally, the "stationary" part of the name refers to the fact the condition is non-progressive, and has nothing to do with whether or not the horse is standing still. CSNB-affected Appaloosas usually have normal day vision.

Because we typically don’t interact with our horses after dark, we might not ever see some of the symptoms, such as anxiety or closely following another horse at night. Under normal circumstances, affected horses cope with the condition because they're born with it. They just think that's the way the world works: at night, they can't see. The world is completely black, unless the horse looks straight at the moon or some other light source that is bright enough to appear as a light spot in its field of vision. Poco has it, though he is either not impaired to the degree that Daltrey is, or he is just that much more accustomed to it because he's older (and his hearing is fine).

There is nothing structurally wrong with the eyes of horses with CSNB. The problem occurs during the process of transmitting information from the eyes to the horse's brain. Cone-shaped photoreceptors transmit color and day vision, while rod-shaped photoreceptors are responsible for vision in the dark. In horses with CSNB, the information normally carried by the rod-shaped photoreceptors is dropped or not transmitted properly.

The study linked CSNB in Appaloosas to the leopard complex, but that doesn’t explain how two apparently independent genetic features are actually related. Research in 2008 proved both CSNB and leopard pattern in Appaloosas are caused by a gene whose simplified name is TRPM1. Simply, decreased expression of TRPM1 in the eye and the skin alters signaling from the rod-shaped photoreceptors in the retina as well as the function of certain pigment cells in Apps, thus causing both CSNB and leopard complex.

I may not have ever noticed the degree of Daltrey's impairment were it not for having to play Cafeteria Lady each evening. I have seen first hand that he operates by feel and memory. For example, if he raises his head to chew a mouthful, and he either takes a step or two, or I slide the feed pan, he has to feel around to find it again. It doesn't seem to bother him. I have not found him to be anxious or apprehensive at all. And (knock wood), he has not injured himself.

Gives a whole new meaning to Mike's coining of the term daylight pony for Baby D.

Disclaimer: I am not a veterinary professional. This information is presented as entertainment only. I attempted to obtain permission from the authors and publishers to use this information, but after more than 60 days, my efforts have not been acknowledged. Information came from the following sites: www.appaloosaproject.com, www.horsetalk.co/nz, www.genetics.org and www.thehorse.com. Regardless, most of the actual data about CSNB is the result of a 2005-2006 study by Lynne S. Sandmeyer, DVM, DVSc, DACVO; Carrie B. Breaux, DVM; Sheila Archer, BSc Hons; and Bruce H. Grahn DVM, ACBP, DACVO. The information about TRPM1 is from a 2008 study, which also included Dr. Sandmeyer, as well as Rebecca R. Bellone, Samantha A. Brooks, Barbara A. Murphy, George Forsyth, Sheila Archer (of the Appaloosa Project), Ernest Bailey, and Bruce Grahn.