My Life for a Fecal Sample

The first warning that my guardian angel would be working overtime yesterday was the sound of thudding coming from inside the run-in shed.  The second warning was when I saw flashes of equine bodies moving at the speed of light through the window of said run-in shed.  The third warning was when I saw Freya standing a safe distance away from the run-in shed, with an expression on her face like what I imagine when I see people comment with a picture of eating popcorn on controversial Facebook posts.  Normally, she is the alpha mare of the herd and she is crowding the door of the shed, along with Donut.  I should have found it suspicious that she wasn't there.

But I was focused on retrieving Donut so she could come hang out in her stall for what I hoped would be the shortest time possible to produce a fecal sample for the semi-annual parasite tests that my barn does.  It's a good practice.  Normally it isn't a big deal.  In fact, I could have saved myself the trouble hours earlier in the day when one of the barn staff texted me and asked if I wanted her to rotate my horses through the stall to get the samples.  I asked her to handle Star, but to leave Donut and Freya for me because I wanted to work with both of them anyway.  That was at 8 am, when I had energy and plans and motivation.  By 2:30, I was not feeling any of those things quite so much.  Part of the problem was that I expected it to be a bright and sunny 40-degree day.  A welcome break from the below-freezing highs we'd been experiencing.  Alas, by the time I got to the barn, the sun was gone, and all that was left was a damp cold that sucked the will to live right out of me.  It was cold, and I just wanted to go home.

But no, I was heading into what sounded like a disaster.  And it really was.  A new gelding had been introduced to what I think of as my herd of mares, specifically Freya, Donut, and Star, a few weeks ago.  He came from a field of rambunctious geldings and was used to engaging in hard-core stallion-like play on a daily basis.  His owner as well as the owners of several other horses in the field were understandably concerned about this behavior because it had led to innumerable wounds, lacerations, and puncture wounds, many of which required veterinary visits and unwanted expenses.  Another gelding had lived with the mares quite successfully for months before moving to a new home, and I think the assumption was that any gelding would be fine.

If you own mares, then you know that isn't true.  Not every gelding can live with mares and perhaps more importantly for this particular gelding, most mares do not engage in rough-housing.  That is stallion behavior.  Mares kick and bite things for fun.  Thus, geldings who wish to engage in body slams are going to find themselves ostracized pretty quickly.

I will say that Freya and Donut give this gelding peace as long as he is quiet.  (Star tries to ignore him, which is her standard MO for all other horses.)  The problem is that he doesn't want to be quiet.  He wants to play.  Donut will run with him for a minute or two, but even her youth doesn't lend itself to the kind of rough play this gelding really wants.  So, every day around feeding time, he is desperate to get out of the field.  I think he is ever hopeful that he will be taken to his old field and his regular buddies.  But alas, he simply goes to his stall, where he spends 16 hours accumulating more energy.

By yesterday afternoon, the gelding had escalated his behavior quite a bit.  He was flying around the run-in shed, quite literally bouncing off the walls...and Donut.  Donut, being Donut and not Freya, was not mature enough to understand that the solution to this problem was getting out of the run-in shed, so I could halter her and lead her through the gate farther down the field.  (Although this solution probably wouldn't have worked anyway.  Gemma told me that she tried it a few days ago and only survived because she was leading Freya who defended herself and Gemma from the gelding, who tried to run them down.  Note that Gemma is no longer allowed to go to the field without an adult.)  Donut truly believes that her needs and desires take precedence above any other horse's, especially if it involves food or her person, which unfortunately on this day, was me.  So she was doing her best to hold her ground at the door of the run-in shed, and taking a bit of a beating for it.

My first and most immediate thought was to get her out.  She was clearly not safe.  I tried opening the door and using my lead rope to move the gelding back.  Normally that is very effective.  Yesterday, it nearly got me killed the first time.  The gelding was in such a state of emotion that he could not recognize any commands or body language from me.  So I got back out of the run-in shed, latched the door just in time to avoid it being slammed open, and decided on a new tactic.

Donut worked with me and while the gelding made a lap around the shed, she stuck her head over the door so I could slip her halter on, open the door, and evacuate her.  It took maybe three seconds, and we almost didn't make it.  So it was with a great sigh of relief that I latched the door and ducked to avoid getting hit in the head by the gelding's head as he frantically tried to get out.

Thinking that the current problem had been resolved, my brain started to process the situation.  Regretfully, while my brain was ready to settle down and analyze, Donut's brain was not.  I have no idea how long she'd been in the run-in shed with the excited gelding, but probably more than a couple of minutes.  So she was frazzled and rattled and traumatized.  It would be nice if Donut could process her trauma by meditating.  Instead she processes by moving her body.  Specifically, she likes to be as far up in the air as possible.  And if she can get all four feet off the ground at the same time, that is even better.

So it was really an out-of-the-frying-pan-and-into-the-fire kind of situation for me as I watched with a mixture of terror and awe as my little Donut (who is becoming not so little) reared, leaped into the air like a gazelle, and galloped in tiny circles around me, slipping and nearly falling in the mud several times.  I don't think I have ever seen that much athleticism from a horse attached to a human.  If it could be harnessed, I think Donut has the potential to be an Olympic-level athlete in something.  (Preferably with someone else riding her...)

The bad news was that all that rearing was putting Donut's front feet significantly closer to my head than my head felt comfortable with.  The good news is that there were plenty of people watching by that time, so I was sure one of them could call 911 if I was injured.  Interestingly, no one offered to come help me...

I'm not sure how long it took to get Donut from the run-in shed to the barn.  It's only about 800 - 1,000 feet, but it felt like two miles.  We were having trouble making any forward progress because rearing isn't really a great way to move forward and the tiny circles, while very fast, were mostly in place.  Eventually, though, I figured out a strategy.  When I lunge Freya using Science of Motion techniques, one of the things we do is go in a circle and then straight.  Circle and then straight.  Sometimes the straight is only a few steps, but at this point, I was willing to try anything.

So that is what we did.  Donut would go up in the air and bounce around and then circle.  I'd put my hand on her shoulder to remind her that there was a human attached to her and then see if I could influence her forward a bit.  It worked, although we still had pretty slow progress.

The other thing that we had the opportunity to work on was getting a rope wrapped around Donut's leg.  Luckily, I'd already done some preliminary work on it in controlled settings, so when it happened now, Donut had a frame of reference.  What was happening was that despite my best efforts, sometimes when Donut was rearing, she would get one leg on the other side of the lead rope while she was in the air and then come down and try to spin, thus wrapping the rope around her leg.  (In my defense, I was also trying to avoid getting kicked in the head.  I'm not that great at multi-tasking.)  I would have let go if she'd panicked, but she didn't.  The one thing that went right in this whole mess was that she didn't freak out when she felt the pressure of the rope.  In fact, it broke her reactivity for a few seconds, so I could unwrap the rope.

I hand-graze Donut every time I handle her.  Often I use that time to drape the lead rope over her body and gently wrap it under her fetlocks or around her hocks.  I was doing it as preliminary work for ground driving, but it was potentially a life saver because I didn't have a panicking horse with a rope around her leg.

 

Eventually we did make it to the barn, and Donut started to settle.  I walked her to her stall and she discovered a beet pulp mash and alfalfa hay, which made everything right in her world again.  Meanwhile, I needed to sit down and contemplate my life choices...

It is becoming clear that the gelding is not a great fit for the field he is in.  I've already talked to the trainer that works with the horse and she is open to finding a solution, so I feel confident that we will figure something out.  And I'm trying to figure out how to give my guardian angel a raise...

Winter is here!

I hear people complaining a lot about the cold or the snow this time of year.  Which I think is hysterical, having grown up in a place where temperatures can fall significantly below zero with wind on top of that.  A place where winter seems like it lasts for about six months out of the year and the cold becomes its own entity.  

I remember one Christmas when I was growing up.  My family was driving to visit my grandma for the day.  The actual temperature was about -35 degrees, and the car heater couldn't overcome the cold seeping into the car.  So we wore our winter boots and parkas and hats and gloves for the whole three and a half hour drive (and then again on the way home).

Or the time I was in college in Iowa and headed home for Christmas break.  There was a big storm that encompassed multiple states.  The biggest problem was getting through Minnesota.  There was so much snow that even on an interstate highway with every college kid in the tri-state area trying to find their way home, it was unclear exactly where the road was.  And it was so cold that I had to pull over periodically to scrape the ice off my windshield because the defrost couldn't keep up with it.  I made it to a friend's house in Fargo, ND around 1 am (I think I'd probably been on the road around 10-12 hours at that point) and stayed overnight.  I think both interstates out of Fargo were closed not long after I got off the road.  (Yes, that is a thing.  Roads literally have barriers that can be closed if the weather is bad.  It doesn't happen that often, but it does happen.  Here in Virginia, I guess the Department of Transportation relies on accidents to close the roads...)  The next day my friend helped me shovel my car out of about three feet of snow, only for me to discover that the alternator had died.  So I had to stay another 2-3 days to get the car repaired before continuing on for the next 300 miles to my parents' house.

These are just a couple of examples of what my experience with winter has been like, so when people complain because it is 38 degrees and cloudy outside, I laugh to myself.  Or sometimes out loud.  Because it just doesn't compare to what I grew up with.

Of course, everyone adapts to the location where they live, and I suspect even I would be intimidated by winter in New England states.  I've seen pictures and the sheer amount of snow is mind-boggling.  On the other hand, I wonder what it would be like to live there.  Now that I appreciate the slower times of the year, I imagine how nice it would be for nature to insist that people slow down.

We've had a couple of really warm and notably unsnowy winters here in Virginia.  Thus, the population was lulled into thinking that Virginia had been converted into North Carolina.  December was full of 60 and even 70 degree days and zero snow, setting an unrealistic tone for the winter.  So we were caught off guard when we got almost 11 inches of snow where I live and more than that in other areas.  And it wasn't just any snow, it was heavy, wet snow that took down trees.  And the trees took down power lines (because in Virginia, it apparently makes sense to run power lines through big trees).  And I suspect the rest of the country watched the train wreck that was I-95, where an accident involving six semi-trucks started a chain reaction that defied belief and led to a complete blockage of the interstate in both directions for something like 27 hours, leaving people stranded with no way to get out or be rescued or even eat.

After two years of mild winters, no one could believe that we were actually getting real winter.  I admit to being one them.  After all, it was literally 65 degrees outside the day before it happened.  I couldn't imagine how snow would even accumulate on such warm ground.  But as the temperature dropped quickly overnight, and the snow started, accumulate is exactly what it did.

I spent most of the day beating the trees in our yard with a broom, trying to save them from the ever-increasing weight of the snow that was bending them to the ground, while my husband and daughter cleared snow from the cars, driveway, and sidewalk.  I honestly didn't think either our dogwood or our magnolia would make it.  But they did.  All of our trees survived.  But many other trees did not.  Evergreens were particularly vulnerable, but I saw some trees that were probably either oak or maple that just had the trunk standing.  All of the branches collapsed and fell to the ground, as if the tree simply given up.

By about 2 pm, the storm was over.  In mere hours, Mother Nature had wreaked a havoc that we haven't seen in a long time.  Perhaps by way of apology for the devastation, the sun even came out and started melting the snow.  I took that as my cue to head out to the barn.  I wasn't sure I would make it.  The horror stories about the roads were still coming in.  But I figured if the road was blocked, I would just turn around and come home.  I knew the horses would be OK, but I still wanted to check on them.  None of them were wearing blankets and the barn owner had told me Star was shivering that morning, although Freya and Donut seemed fine.  I asked the owner to bring Star in, so she could spend the day in Donut's stall warming up, and I wanted to assess the situation.  (I couldn't put blankets on the night before because it was so warm.  They would have been sweating like crazy.  In hindsight, I should have gone out to the barn at midnight-ish to put the blankets on, but I really wasn't sure where the line was for either Star or Freya in terms of when they would get cold.  So note to self for future events where it is 65 degrees and then 20 degrees 12 hours later.)

Amazingly, I didn't have any issues getting out to the barn.  Our neighborhood hadn't been plowed at all, but the four-wheel drive in my truck handled the snow like a hot knife through butter.  After that, the roads were clear.  No abandoned vehicles.  No accidents.  And no traffic.  Everywhere, trees were drooping to the ground and power lines were at risk.  It was a very surreal experience.  

The road just before getting to the barn.  You can't see them, but there are power lines in these trees.  I was torn between seeing how beautiful the snow was and terrified that one of the trees would fall on me.

I was happy to find Star in the barn, looking warm and munching on hay.  I brushed her to make her coat fluffy and then put her new blanket on before turning her back out.

Star takes everything in stride!

 

How fun is the pattern on Star's blanket!  It makes me happy to look at it!

Next, I brought Freya in and did the same.  Gemma really wanted her to have a blanket because it was supposed to be in the low 20s overnight and even colder the next day.  The horses had handled temps in the teens already with no blankets, but I ended up putting the blanket on.  Mostly because I felt guilty that Star had gotten chilled.  And yes, I know Freya did not get chilled, but guilt is a funny thing...

Freya's blanket is so colorful, I'm convinced she can be seen from space! LOL!

 

I didn't feel the least bit guilty about Donut, though.  She has never worn a blanket in her short life and has seemed to handle whatever nature can throw at her just fine.  Also, early that morning, I had gotten a picture from the barn owner showing Donut on the wrong side of the fence.  For the second time, she had broken out of the field.  She has figured out how to pop the fence boards.  She only escapes to a place she can't get out of, which is sort of bizarre, but I can only imagine what she would do with a blanket.  She routinely picks them up off the ground and tries to play with them, and she demolished a saddle pad that she somehow snagged from a saddle rack outside her stall.  I think it took less than five minutes.  So no blankets for Donut unless it is a medical emergency or she develops a better sense of respect for my stuff.

Donut is perfectly happy with no blanket.

After I was certain the horses were fine and well-fed, I headed back home.  It took days for the thousands (or maybe even tens of thousands) of households to get their power back, especially because we got another mini-snow of a few inches a day or two later.  But eventually the snow melted and life returned to normal.  For a short while...

We had more snow yesterday.  Not nearly as much as a couple of weeks ago, but this time, people took it more seriously.  And I prepped the horses the day before because I wasn't sure if I would be able to get out to the barn.  In fact, I spent all day doing stuff to keep my mind off the fact that I wasn't supposed to go to the barn.  I was going to be a responsible citizen and stay off the roads during the storm so the plows could do their thing.  I painted.  I printed pictures.  I hung out with Gemma.  I read.  I spent too much time on Facebook.  I made chili.  I cleaned one corner of the living room while averting my eyes from the other three corners so as not to be overwhelmed with the amount of clutter that still needed to be picked up.

But by 1:30, I had reached the point where I was either going to have to fold laundry (the horror!) or go to the barn.  The snow had only started at 12:30, and there wasn't much accumulation yet.  I finally decided to go because I knew I'd obsess otherwise.

The roads were not too bad at that point.  Traffic was light and plows were out, although it didn't appear that they were actually doing much plowing.  Visibility was OK at about a half mile, and honestly, it wasn't the kind of weather that I would categorize as a storm.  It wasn't nothing, but it didn't seem dangerous.

This time I brought a sidekick.  We got a new dog about six months ago.  She is a rescue from South Carolina, and I'm pretty sure she'd never seen snow until a couple of weeks ago.  She decided that it really isn't her cup of tea, but she loves car rides more than anything.  She wasn't able to get out in the yard as much as she is used to because of the cold and the snow, so I wanted to give her something to do instead.  She happily hopped in the truck with me and was a lovely companion - no backseat driving!:)

Yes, her doggie blanket matches Star's:)

This time the road to the barn was not as pretty, but still quite passable.

 

I got to the barn in good time, and found all the horses perfectly happy eating at the round bale. 

"What blizzard?" they seem to say.

Donut was not bothered in the slightest bit by the crust of snow forming on her back.

Because they all seemed comfortable, I gave them some treats and headed home.  I had gotten my horse fix for the day and I had chili on the stove!

I know that lots of people are sad about the winter weather, but I'm thankful for the rest and the lack of bugs.  And I won't even mind if it snows again next weekend!

As darkness falls...

As the light slowly seeps out of the sky, birds silence their chirping, chickens hop onto their roosting poles, ducks slip into the water, dogs snuggle into their beds, horses munch on their hay, foxes begin their search for food, and the air grows cooler.  

I envied Gemma just a bit as I watched her with Freya.  Gemma's most fervent wish for the last day of the year was to watch the sun set with Freya by her side.  We timed it just perfectly, finishing up working with all the horses minutes before the official sunset at 4:59 pm.  Gemma led Freya out to a patch of grass by the arena to settle in.  

Unlike many nights at the barn when the light is almost unreal, this particular sunset was not spectacular.  The sky was full of clouds that obscured the light, and darkness fell without ceremony.  I guess nature doesn't pay much attention to our human celebrations.

 

As I picked up our boxes of brushes and put away tack, I expected Gemma to return to the barn pretty quickly to put Freya back out in the field.  But she didn't.  I took my time cleaning up and puttering, but they still didn't return.  I checked on them from the barn, and Freya was happily munching on grass while Gemma was gathering something.  I smiled to myself, because that is what Gemma spends a lot of time doing.  I'm constantly finding bags of nature in our house.  They are full of grass, weeds, seeds, acorns, pine cones, leaves, flowers, twigs, rocks, and sometimes mold because they've been closed up for awhile.  I figured she must have found a pretty flower or a four-leaf clover that attracted her attention.

As time went on, it finally occurred to me that maybe Gemma was going to need a reminder to come in.  It was almost fully dark, and I was ready to head home to warmth and dinner.  I walked out to the arena to tell Gemma it was time to come in, and she excitedly told me about the dandelions she had been collecting for Freya and she wondered if Freya would like them.  I assured her that Freya would love them, but she needed to stop collecting them and take Freya out to the field.

Gemma said she needed to collect a few more and then she would lead Freya to her field.  This not being my first day as Gemma's mother, I suspected I would need to jump start the process.  So I got in my truck and drove out to the arena for a final reminder that it was time to go home.  I gave Gemma an escort to ensure her continued forward momentum, but as we passed the barn on the way to the field, Gemma gasped and told me I'd have to hold Freya.  When I asked why, she said she needed to put food out for a cat that was abandoned at the farm.  He only comes out after dark.  So while she put cat food out, I led Freya to the field and sent her off to assess the damage that had been done while she'd been gone.  (A new horse was added to the field a few days ago, and she is still quite suspicious of him.  She was horrified to discover that Donut was hanging out with him and Star was just standing there, not caring about this enemy incursion.  She had to run everyone around for a minute to remind Donut that there was to be no consorting with this potential murderer, that Star was supposed to DO SOMETHING besides just eat, and that under no circumstances was the new horse to interact with anybody.)

I met Gemma back at the truck and we headed home, with Gemma feeling fulfilled that she had spent quality time at the barn with the horses and spent the sunset with Freya and fed the cat that everyone else feeds too, but that really isn't fed unless she sees it with her own eyes.

I wasn't necessarily feeling fulfilled though.  I was missing my big Friesian and my constant quest to ride on New Year's Day even though the weather always sucks and everyone's plans always fall through.  It looked like that would happen again this year too, with rain predicted for most of the day.

The next day, I ended up at the barn by myself.  Gemma had plans to climb with her dad, and while I wished I could have spent the rainy day at home, I had horses that needed to be cared for.  Star and Freya are both battling significant thrush infections, and I had a new treatment that needed to be deployed.  (I swear I will write all about it soon!)

The barn was full of boarders checking on their horses and choruses of "Happy New Year!" abounded.  I brought Freya in first and gave her a special snack per the instructions of a 9-year-old and treated her hooves.  Then I put her back out and got Star for her snack and treatment.  I ended up chatting a bit with other boarders and hearing how Christmases went.  So it was after sunset before I turned Star back out in the field.

Usually, Donut and Freya are waiting for me when I bring Star back.  Donut is always hopeful that I will be bringing more food, and Freya likes to keep an eye on Donut.  (Which is probably a good thing, because Donut does get herself in trouble sometimes.)  But all the horses, including the new one, were at the round bale, happily munching on hay as darkness fell.

It was nice to have the run-in shed to ourselves as I led Star through the door and slipped her halter off.  Normally, she immediately heads out to the field or to the water tank for a drink, but tonight she didn't.  She stayed with me.  And I remembered a night that seems very long ago when Nimo did that too.  Back then, I guessed that he wanted me to do some bodywork, and it seems that he did.  There were a couple of other times he did the same thing, and I responded the same way.

I wondered if Star might want some bodywork, so I started the Bladder Meridian Technique at her poll and worked my way through her entire left side.  Part of my brain was concerned that the other horses would come and interrupt us, but they didn't.  I settled into the work as the light disappeared.  I felt the warmth of Star's body through her winter coat.  I could hear her deep breathing and occasional sighs as my fingers moved over her body.

When I was done with the left side, I moved to the right side.  Star gave me a little nuzzle with her nose as if to tell me to keep going.  So I took a deep breath and focused on the technique.  More sighs came from Star as I worked through her right side.

After I was finished, I stepped back and looked at Star's head.  She turned to look at me, then shook her head, farted, and sauntered off into the darkness.  I smiled at the fart and was left with a sense of peace and contentment that I haven't felt in a long time.  It wasn't until the next day when it occurred to me that maybe Star hadn't needed the bodywork for her.  Maybe she knew I needed it for me.