Sometimes life sends you from one extreme to another so quickly that it takes your mind a while to catch up. Today was one of those days.
I was walking to the horses so I could feed them, accompanied by Vlassic, who was jumping around eating grasshoppers, chased a cow, and had a grand time. As I came past the bales of hay, I looked toward the cattle pen, to see how Apache was doing.
My heart stopped. He was lying motionless in the dirt. Fiona said hee-haw and he didn’t move. I quickly walked up and said, “Apache?” In what I’m sure was a stricken pet-owner voice.
I’m okay, mom. See? I’m trying to be funny and stepping in my dish.
He flipped his head up an whinnied. Whew. But, had he foundered? Could he stand up? Did I have to call the vet? He answered that question by hauling himself to his feet and shaking. He’d just been napping.
He’s up and eating!
By that time, I’d called poor Sara, who said, “You do know they lie down, right?” But she understood why I’d panicked.
Actually he is walking marginally better today. He’s still not great, though.
Fiona always stays close.
Meanwhile, Fiona kept nudging me. I turned to see what her problem was just in time to see a little black butt slipping into her water tub. Vlassic was apparently hot.
The tub, the water, the dog, all black.
Fiona was not amused to see him in HER water, but I went straight from my fear for Apache and his feet to laughing maniacally at the dog. That was great.
That was NOT funny. Also, this pen is too small.
We fed the other horses, who are on their best behavior, then went back to chicken world to get today’s eggs.
We’re over here, being good, eating our own food.
All the ladies and Bruce were fine, but there were no eggs. Then, on the ground, I saw this:
That is one small egg!
What the..? I went to the Googles and found that Ginger had laid what is called a fairy egg! They are tiny eggs, usually with no yolk. They are also usually lighter or darker than a hen’s usual egg.
They happen when something disturbs a hen’s reproduction process. Well, of course! Ginger and Bertie were quite disturbed by being cut off from their pen and all those new pullets showing up.
We will have to see if Bertie pops out a fairy egg tomorrow. Little do they know, but tomorrow they get a new boyfriend. Oooh. Don’t tell them.
Next week, the refinishing of the floor in my new office will start. That means I’ll need a desk. Chris really wanted to make one, as I e mentioned before. We both wanted to re-use old materials for it. We found doors we wanted to use as the desk top and sides among ones we had to remove in the renovation.
The future desk doors
But, we didn’t find suitable framing stuff, even when we looked at various antique shops. Then, one day, Chris was at our friend Mike’s woodworking shop, borrowing a saw. He noticed some old pipe, and asked Mike what it was. It turns out it was the old gas lines that got removed when we were working on the Hermit Haus.
Parts of the pipe he didn’t use.
Mike hadn’t wanted them to go to waste, so he took them home. He was happy to give them to Chris for the desk project!
So, today was welding day. I’ve never watched anyone build with metal before, so I hung around and watched Chris as he worked. Numerous dogs helped until sparks started flying.
Everyone was happy while he was just selecting pipe to use.
We did the work under the shady roof over our shipping container (future tack room and stalls for horses). Alfred dug himself a nice hole to sit in.
Happy Alfred
First, Chris cut all the pieces from the old pipe. It was really exact. He marked the cuts with a soapstone marker. Interesting!
Firing up the welder
Heating up pipe
That’s hot
Fire!
Welding time!
I kept watching the little fires that came up, ready to throw my cup of water on them. But it was fine.
After that, Chris put on his helmet and put everything together. It didn’t take long at all! It was like magic! I enjoyed seeing how he leveled the legs and attached all the parts securely.
Finishing the main frame
It’s a rectangle!
Support bar in
Adding more bars
Building the legs
Getting things square
Complete desk frame.
Building the desk
The highlight was when he put the old door on the rustic frame. Wow. So cool. It will look amazing with the big piece of glass on top.
The door fits!
I even got to practice sitting at my desk. What a fun thing to do on a Sunday!
It seems to work!
Thanks to Chris for his willingness to make this one-of-a-kind example of using what you have!
It’s a rooster, of course. Since we are down 3 hens (we lost our injured Jewel last week) I wanted more. Bird and Bee Farm keeps running out of chickens, so I despaired of getting more any time soon. But yesterday we got a call from Cindy Rek, who said our turn had come, because they finally have baby guinea fowl (called keats), which Kathleen has been wanting.
Precious guinea Keats
We hadn’t expected them so soon, so we’ve been scrambling to get stuff set up for them ever since. With a plan in our minds, Chris and I set out for the farm so we could arrive by 8 am. That is dedication. But that way we were the first to get there.
Bird and Bee Farm Wildscape
The Wildscape my Master Naturalist friend, Catherine Johnson, works so hard on is really coming into its own. So many flowers and creative touches. She’s started a southwestern garden and a moon garden with all white flowers.
More Wildscape with cosmos in back
After petting the Rek’s new collie puppy, Dixie, we went in for chickens and guineas. Very quickly, Chris came over with a box of ten little darlings. Five are lavender and five some other fancy color. They’re just a few weeks old and like to Peep. So I want to name them all Peep, so we can later chill with our Peeps.
There are ten keats in here, actually in half the box.
I had more trouble, since I wanted older pullets. Well, they are selling them so fast that the oldest they had were 3.5 months old. I realized we’d have to separate the current hens from the new ones. Time for Plan B!
Hedy, Hedley, and Spring or Steen
I ended up with two very black Jersey Giants (supposed to be very nice) that I had to name Spring and Steen. Jersey girls. We also got a gorgeous Silver Wyandotte. Her feathers are gorgeous, black with white tips. Her name is Patti. Mrs Springsteen.
Pretty Patti
They begged me to take a rooster, so I picked a flashy Easter Egger, in the hopes that maybe Fancy Pants can raise us some babies with olive eggs. Guess what I named him? Bruce. He has some hilarious whiskers around his face. We are probably getting another rooster from a friend. I guess he will be either Clarence or Little Steven.
Bruce. He should be quite flashy as he matures.
There is another pair. They are Ancona, a pretty breed that apparently has red eyes. They are mostly black but have random white tips. Ours have a few white feathers, too. I read that they get more white with each moult. I ran out of E Street Band enthusiasm and named them Hedy and Hedley.
All six blackish chickens in a confused clump.
Now that we had chickens, we had to get another dog pen to put the teen chickens in, and a place for the guinea fowl to grow in. And feeders and waterers. Each group eats different food, of course. It only took two different Tractor Supply stores, thanks to the nice clerk in Rockdale who found us one in College Station. That was a nice store. It did get tiresome wearing my mask, but I looked like a cowgirl.
The gay pride frame helps.
Our other errand was to pick up some stuff from the John Deere store. Only it wasn’t outside the store like they said it would be. It’s okay, we enjoyed driving around looking at farms.
Back at the Hermits’ Rest we went into bird housing overdrive. Chris got the guinea chicks in the big dog pen we got for them, only to watch them squeezing out. Oops. Luckily we’d bought chicken wire in case we needed it. While Lee and I chased the last escapee, the wire went up. Whew.
Before the chicken wire. They could escape!
They loved their water and food dishes and soon were falling all over each other eating and drinking. After that, the babies napped a lot.
No escape now. They are napping anyway.
Meanwhile, much to the annoyance of Ginger, Bertie Lee, and Fancy Pants, Chris temporarily confined them the a small part of their coop. Then he let the black chickens out. Everyone had food and water, but the Springsteen family hid in their box for a long time.
Even Fancy Pants made an appearance to voice her dislike of the cramped quarters.
Lee and Chris quickly built the new addition, which is bigger than the original because of how he arranged the dog pen panels.
Excuse us, interlopers, but you are in our space! Bertie Lee and Ginger are not amused.
Next, we took some of the tin left over from the Pope house project and made some shade panels for the original section, in the west, and a bit of rain cover for the new addition. They needed more shade.
Penney inspects the pointy end of the new chicken run area.
After putting in some roosting branches/boards the new group was released there and the old ones got their house back. No doubt they are jealous of the grass the new chickens have. Don’t worry, I gave them some.
Tin roof (needs work) in the new section, and more tin in the old part, making it lots shadier.
The black chickens had never seen grass or treats before, but they figured it out fast. By the time I went inside, they were happily eating, drinking and pecking.
This is the life!
We found some wood to make a couple more nest boxes and a second little coop for when the new guys start laying. They will be okay with their cardboard box temporarily.
Their beloved transport box and a roosting perch are at right. They also have a branch to roost on, outside the photo.
I can’t believe Chris got as much done today as he did! Instant chicken quarters! I’m very grateful for his creativity and willingness to do this, since it was NOT on the original weekend plan.
I was telling Lee how glad I was that all the Master Naturalist stuff has helped me be less squeamish about bugs. I’d just seen a dead bug on the floor and stopped to pick it up and take a picture.
Cool stripes! Cool head!
We went outside (even though it was 99 F today), I checked my rocking chair for black widows, and I proceeded to look the insect up in iNaturalist. Oh, look, that one was easy! Let’s read all about it.
It’s a WHAT? It bites WHERE? It does THAT to people? It was in my HOUSE?
Nature, I love you. But I’d sure rather keep my distance from some of your creations, even if I’m a Naturalist.
If you see the eastern blood-sucking conenose, remove it from your home.
Its name is nowhere near as funny as yesterday’s grasshoppers. Texas. Everything not only bites or stings, but some of it sucks. On the other hand, I have a new thing to tell jerks: “Don’t be a bloodsucking conenose!”
I put it on my altar to represent darkness. Next to snake stuff.
Ick. So, what’s the most disgusting thing at YOUR house?
It’s more like this: you have to convince them the water is there.
The hens have had their new water trough a few days now, but no one had seen them use it. I’d let their old water dispenser in the coop, so they could transition, but they kept going up and banging on it.
We have tiny chicken brains.
Jewel, who somehow managed to injure her leg, liked the drip area. I guess it’s her hydrotherapy spa.
Anyway, today I decided to do some water education. I turned the tap on and let the water run. Everyone was intrigued, judging from the clucks and tilted heads. Even Fancy Pants was there, taking her evening brooding break.
The gang’s all here.
I let the water run until it overflowed, hoping they’d see that the pipe produced water. It worked! They all ran over and poked at the runoff. Jewel immediately set herself in the biggest wet area. Still, no one had used the trough.
We can drink from here!
I ran the water a little more, and Bertie stuck her beak in and drank. After another minute, Ginger did it. And even Fancy Pants got a big drink before retiring to her throne.
Advice: if you want eggs, get normal, hardy, layers like these gals. Fancy chickens are hard.
I left to get them some dandelions, and on my way back I saw voluntary drinking. And Jewel has positioned herself right next to a water outlet, so she can rest and heal. Awwww.
This is very convenient! I’m a satisfied customer!
We hope she feels better by the time we get her new boyfriend next week!
Why am I writing about my horse relationship issues? Surely very few people who read my little blog are well-meaning but somewhat clueless horse owners like me. Well, the growth you achieve when working with horses (or other animals) spills over to all other parts of your life. I’ve become much more confident at trying new things, secure that mistakes will teach me important lessons, and like I’ve been saying all week, braver. (I’m still me, but I’m learning to love my little quirks and care less if the way I am isn’t how someone else wants me to be…that’s for later.)
On to yesterday. I almost didn’t go do work with Apache yesterday, because it is so damned hot, and I was feeling bad that I was bothering the neighbors. Then I told myself that spending time with my horse is one of the most important things I could be doing right now, so Mandi and I just waited until later in the day to take a walk.
Mandi is telling Apache to not be a dick. He’s not having any of it.
DAMN. After taking some photos of Mandi with Apache for some dating purpose or something, we headed off in a direction we’d never gone before. Now, bear in mind that prior to this, I’d never been able to take Apache in that direction farther than the big barn with the beef freezers in it. He has always gotten nervous, looked back at the other horses, and pranced around.
Mandi says, “Isn’t this the cutest little ass you’ve ever seen?” Note that she’s finally getting closer to shedding out.
Not today. He and I walked slowly and calmly down the driveway, with Fiona and Mandi following at a respectful distance (to be sure he wasn’t relying on Mandi, who was so busy on her phone that I’m sure she wasn’t sending him vibes). We walked, I occasionally let him eat some plants, we talked.
Standing on my tiptoes behind his giant belly.
I walked him to the big cattle tank/pond where he likes to eat the sedges, and he plopped his foot in the mud and munched away. We walked around the tank, and he didn’t even flinch when Fiona panicked due to not being able to see us and galloped to find us (a hilarious sight, I guarantee you). I never ONCE had to tighten the lead rope, and only once had to ask him to move over to the other side of the path (to avoid an electric fence).
When we got to the farthest I intended to walk, he looked longingly as if he wanted to keep going to the end of the driveway! Who IS this horse? We walked back, calmly. He was in no hurry to get to the other horses. We stopped to take some pictures. I dropped the lead rope and he just stood there, just as he’s been trained to do.
In other words, not only did he act like the “old” Apache, he acted BETTER. I’ve always wanted to be able to come out during the week and just walk around and hang out with him. I see now that I should have done what I did this week long ago (as Sara has repeatedly suggested and I resisted). It’s helped our relationship very much, and made both of us feel more confident. So, I say to Sara, “You were RIGHT!”
In this picture, we are hugging each other. Just resting in the shade and relaxing. It was really great. Photo by Mandi.
This weekend I’ll need to start riding again. I’ll stick to my plan of not using the bit again until his teeth are looked at (scheduled for the week after next). And next week I may try riding him alone, with Mandi, Sara, or Kathleen following along just in case I need them. The goal will be to feel safe to ride alone around the ranch at some point.
We’re on our way. Photo by Mandi.
Apache and I are on our way. Thanks for listening.
Even though it was really, really hot yesterday, I continued on my quest to work with Apache on his issues with going where he is asked to go.
I really figure that just the time spent with him would do me good, and I was happy to see Craig Moore, a young horse trainer in May, Texas who I follow, echoing that. He wrote about how he’d never thought just hanging around with a horse would mean much, but he tried it yesterday, sitting in a chair and reading on his phone in the pen. The Mustang who’d only been with them a day or two came up to him and checked him out, even sniffing his face. Just the quiet presence helped. If it even helps people who win the Extreme Mustang Makeover, it has to help me and my champion grass chewer!
So, Mandi and I got together again last night, and after spending some time grooming Apache and Fiona (and feeding Big Red, the hen), we decided (with not much planning or forethought) to take him to the other place that gives him trouble, down the row of evergreen trees behind our “training pasture” or “outdoor arena,” which is towards the neighbors’ house.
I am sweating a lot as I work out my issues.
He did better than yesterday, for sure, but did try to turn back, especially under those scary high-voltage wires. Each time he did it, I followed my plan and stopped him, then gently turned him in the direction I wanted him to go in. He always responded to my touch command, which was good.
Two things helped. I’d remembered to bring a carrot stick with me, and I used a shorter lead rope. I keep tripping on the really long one, because I can’t keep it all nicely curled up while walking, using the stick, and avoiding Apache’s feet. Both these things made a big difference. The stick helped keep him going the way I wanted, and after the scary place, he walked normally the rest of the way down the treeline, calmly turned around, and did not rush going back.
Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that the fact that Vlassic and Fiona followed us would be a problem, and we’ve been asked not to bring dogs down there again by Sara and Ralph. I didn’t see or hear their dogs, so I hadn’t realized there was a problem, and Vlassic stuck right with us, I thought. Anyway, we have plenty of other places to walk, or we can lock Vlassic in the tack room if there’s a reason to head toward the Wild Type Ranch area. We want to be good neighbors!
Next Step
Since that had gone fairly well, we determined we would do the race again. At first, it was like yesterday, but this time I never let him turn completely around, and I used the carrot stick and my hand to get him facing forward again. If he got wound up, we just stopped for a while. It didn’t take too long before I realized he was walking normally again. HOORAY!
I was really hot, but proud.
We made it through the scary puddles, past the scary gate, and down to the shady area. The wind suddenly whipped up and Apache went to attention. Mandi asked him what he smelled, and he answered her as best as he could.
Horse communication. I love this picture.
We then happily walked back, enjoying a breeze and some dark clouds. Suddenly I looked up and there was a partial rainbow. It absolutely made our day complete, as we smiled and laughed with each other.
Is there a food dish at the end of that rainbow? Vlassic does not care; he just wants to go swimming in the feed dish that’s supposed to be his drinking water, back at the barn.
We got back, and once again marveled that Fiona now follows me when I hold out my hand, and goes nicely into her pen. I guess the donkey’s getting well trained, too!
And Chicken News
Meanwhile, back at the chicken coop, Chris finished our new watering trough for the hens. This will make it a LOT easier to give them water, since I just have to turn on the hose, right next to the coop.
Bertie Lee checks out the new trough.
This comes at a good time, since Jewel (the black one) seems to have somehow broken a leg! She can get around, but anything that makes life easier on her will be helpful, poor dear.
We are keeping the other water dispenser in there until we know they are using the new one.
Fancy Pants is STILL broody, but we may have a new man for them, this lovely young Copper Maran who needs a home. I hope it makes Fancy Pants happy, and isn’t too hard on Jewel. If it is, we’ll separate them. We hope we will be able to get more chickens soon…
Teen rooster (cockerel).
I’m looking forward to today and to the weekend, to see if I can keep building on the progress with Apache. I hope to have something good to show Sara!
One thing that happens when your circle contains a lot of former horse trainers is you get a lot of advice when you’re having horse troubles. I am fortunate to have not only Sara’s wise counsel, but also nephew Chris and my friend Mandi to help me think about what could be going on with Apache’s recent behavior.
I know there has to be something going on in his head that would make him completely freak out and refuse to walk down a trail he has gone down over and over again for years.
I’m acting freaky, but my tail sure is pretty.
Chris offered many ideas, and later, when I talked to Mandi, she had many of the same ideas. First, each of them asked what had changed recently. That was pretty easy:
New gelding arrived
Started training with a bridle and bit
Been ridden a lot more by Sara
They offered some other ideas, too, some based on what has changed.
He could be in pain from something. Saddle? Feet? Bit?
Something he is eating could be affecting his mood (Chris is not fond of supplements and thought they could be “hot”).
He doesn’t want to leave Spice alone with “the new guy.”
The differences between how Sara rides and how I ride confuse him.
He’s gone back to testing me.
So, yesterday, Mandi came by to do some observation and maybe eliminate some of the possibilities. It was fascinating to watch her work. I swear she changes into a different person when she is working with horses.
First, she looked at his food and supplements. She checked the protein content and other ingredients. His plain beet pulp (no molasses) was deemed benign, which I knew. Then she looked over the SmartPack supplements he gets, which are for calmness, digestive health, and hoof health. None of them are “hot” supplements and are things that he needs. So, that ruled that out. Chris later said that was a wild guess, anyway, because he’s been on the same ones for years and had a great attitude.
Then, while he was quietly grazing, she brought his halter over to him and just held it next to his head. After she put it back she said he tensed up, stopped chewing, and froze up. I had noticed that, but thought he was being willing to put on his bridle. Aha. She also noticed a lot of teeth marks on the bit.
Next, Mandi looked at his teeth. It was funny, because that made Vlassic bark. I think he thought she was hurting Apache. She said he has two very sharp teeth next to where the bit goes. Aha. Even on Sunday, when I’d ridden him with the halter, Sara had wanted the bridle on so she could ride him.
After that, we went for a walk (and dammit, my watch had run out of juice, so I lost ALL those steps). Of course, it’s always a parade around here, with Fiona and Vlassic both joining us. Apache was better walking than he was riding, but he kept turning back toward where he came from. I would lead him into a circle and walk forward more. He was also rushing, not walking with me.
We made it all the way to the end of the race, though. At one point, he really wanted to go back and Mandi said, sternly, “No, you walk.” He walked. Aha.
We chatted about what she’d observed and her ideas for improvement. She told me Apache seems to think he’s getting his way when I let him turn all the way around. He’s thinking he got to head home. So, I need to do something else other than the circles I’d been doing.
Then, after some nice shade and grass, we headed back. Mandi was on the alert for him to rush toward the other horses or otherwise act up. Nope. The dang horse walked beside me like the well-trained horse he can be. Only a little nudging into my space happened. He was a totally different horse. That ended the day on a good note, so we were all happy.
Other testing also went on yesterday. Vlassic tested how close he could get to Fiona before she warned him to get back.
We will try more today. At least I can be happy that Mandi said Apache obviously loves and trusts me, judging from how we interact. That made me feel good, too.
A Plan
So, from what we’d learned and all the advice I’ve received (with gratitude), I have come up with a plan.
We are getting his teeth floated. That will help with the sharp tooth issue. That was already on the agenda.
I’m not going to ride him with the bit for a while. He does fine with me using a halter, and maybe I’ll get a hackamore. We have time to try it again later, after his teeth are happy.
I’m going to ask Sara not to ride him for a while, unless absolutely necessary. That’s not because she isn’t good, but so that Apache and I can concentrate on our relationship and getting it on track.
Rather than circle him when he doesn’t do what I want him to, I’m going to try two things. First I’m just going to stop him, pointed in the right direction. We will both breathe, then move forward. Over and over and over. Mandi had suggested I make him go fast every time he starts to go back, but I worry he’ll run back. I’ll try that if the first idea doesn’t work. It was MY idea, but it’s something we did when we were in training.
I’m going to walk around with him a lot with neither Lakota nor Spice around. I have been meaning to do it, but putting it off. I need to invest the time. I’m hoping that will help our relationship and develop more trust in me. Of course, Fiona will come along. She doesn’t seem to be a problem. She’s stopped running around or interfering, now that she knows she gets to come every time we go somewhere.
Goal: back to our beautiful trail rides in the pastures! Photo by @ivanatilosanec via Twenty20.
I know few of you readers are horse people. But, if any of you are, your input is welcome.
This is a two-part part 2. Looks like it will be two posts.
The Horse Part
Like a good optimist should, I got on that horse again today. I was a little concerned about my attitude, not because of Apache, but because I’d been reading Facebook and becoming more and more sad/angry/disgusted/insert other negative emotion here. So, I walked to the barn and put thoughts of calm, peace and love in my mind, buoyed by some deep breathing.
Sara and I had a backup plan today. She was going to ride Lakota, our boarder horse, and I’d ride Apache. If all went well, great (she predicted today would be wonderful). If it didn’t, we could switch horses (I am not competent to ride Spice, I’m told).
I don’t want to ride anywhere, now, Suna. (Photo from a few weeks ago, as you can tell by non-blue hair)
We started going down the Scary Row of Trees, where Apache has always tended to want to go back or rush. It took a while, but we got him calmly walking, did a bunch of practice circles, then walked in a serpentine formation all the way back. He did okay (not great), but he was paying attention. Everyone was brave.
So, I declared we would now try the race again. Brave! That lasted about 20 yards. Apache again was having nothing to do with walking down that path. I spent a rather exhausting 20 minutes where he simply didn’t do a darn thing I asked him to do. There was backing, turning, going sideways, head flinging, ear pinning. WTH?
See, we used to have fun.
Fiona, Lakota, and Sara just watched me patiently coax and prod, and urge him a LOT harder than usual. So, I got off again. I managed to only briefly lose my temper, so I consider that a success. Sara said I did way better in being patient yet persistent than most people. Probably those saintly natural horsemanship trainers would be more patient, but then, they would be better at “reading the horse” and figure out what’s up.
Sara got on Apache, and I walked Lakota behind them (so I got to hang out with a nice horse and get some exercise). I can’t say I was pleased, but I guess I was relieved to see that Apache acted the same with Sara, though she had more tricks she could do (because she would not fall off). She eventually got him tired enough that he went forward halfway down the race. She said that was enough, because he was still all worked up.
Cowgirl Suna on the fancy horse. Note that I am actually smiling, which is practically a miracle. You can see Fiona way back behind us. This narrow field is “the race.”
I got to a gate I could use to get myself up on Lakota, so I did get to ride him back. That was nice, and it was brave to get up on a new horse out in the middle of nowhere on a wiggly gate. He didn’t act weird or anything, and followed my cues just fine.
Western saddle, reins, boots, getting there.
Meanwhile, Apache never did settle down, though he did at least walk back. He was coated with sweat and only calmed down enough to walk in one circle at a calm pace, which we declared SUCCESS!
Once Sara dismounted, he was his normal self, although sweaty. As I gave him a bath, I realized I felt nothing but love for him, and curiosity about what was causing his problem. I wasn’t angry at all! I wish I had that attitude when my kids were small!
We’re all fine and happy now.
Interestingly, Sara had read a post from someone in a group she’s in who said their horse started acting extra barn-shy and strangely when a new gelding was introduced into the herd. So, maybe there is going to be a time of getting used to Lakota. Hmm.
So, what being brave and doing hard things the past two days has taught me is that just getting through a challenge counts as success. I am not going to give up on Apache, but will work through the issue, however long it takes, so we will both feel good about ourselves and learn a lot.
Will this attitude hold for challenges outside my immediate community?
Yes, I didn’t write anything yesterday. For one, I had way too many meetings and errands to do. But really, I joined many people I know in being so overwhelmed, appalled, and upset about how black men and people of color in general are being treated in this country that I couldn’t find anything non-incendiary to say. So, I’m not saying anything else yet. I will, though.
Am I a Coward?
Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. A goal.
One thing about observing injustices in the world is I sometimes feel cowardly, like I really could be doing more to express the outrage I feel. Or take concrete action. (I have plans, though.)
This morning, however, I got a lesson that showed me I can indeed be brave, but that it helps to do so with a clear head and not from a place of anger.
Testing My Bravery
It was horse riding time on a very hot, cloudless morning. Sara and I met at 9 am, hoping that would be early enough for it to not be too hot. Wrong. By the time everyone was all groomed (including Fiona, who I am continuing to help shed her winter fuzzies) I was dripping with sweat.
I’m always cute, though.
Sara told me she’d had a great ride on Apache yesterday, though he exhibited some of his “druthers,” as she calls them, where he indicates he’d rather be doing something else, thank you. He warmed up fine, though.
Once I mounted, he began to hint that he’d much rather be over chatting with Lakota, the new gelding, who was not being ridden. I got him to do other things though, and we set out to go ride in our favorite pasture, where there is some shade.
To get there, you have to walk down a long “race” that’s used to bring cattle up from the far pasture. It’s mostly grass, but with the recent rains there are still some big muddy areas, which we usually just go around.
This picture of me trying to look intimidating but calm shows what I was trying to project at the dang horse.
Not today. Apache had absolutely no intention of walking down that race like he normally does. He kept turning around. When I’d make him go the other way, he’d back up. He’d go sideways. We crept forward (poor Sara had to just walk her horse back and forth), and eventually got to an area between two slippery muddy areas that caused him to slip and slide as he cantankerously waved his head around and acted pissed off. No amount of urging, poking, bopping with the stick, and strong language helped.
After about fifteen minutes of this and I could see that I was losing my ability to project calm thoughts and not act angry. And Apache was slipping and sliding to where I was worried for his safety.
If I could stay calm after realizing this huge caterpillar was chomping on my ankle last night, I can handle an ornery equine. (A live oak metria moth)
So I got off. He started to head back. Nope. We walked the rest of the way that we were going to ride. He was still agitated but at least went the right way, mostly. About halfway through the walk, he sighed and started acting completely normally. I was so glad I didn’t give up on him, managed to stay calm, and saw the day’s agenda through.
When we got to the end, we enjoyed the shade a bit, then I got back on (no easy feat with a hybrid saddle with high stirrups), and we walked sedately and calmly back. He didn’t break into a trot or anything.
Stay focused and calm and think of beautiful things, I kept thinking.
There was a bit of druthers when we got to the end of the race, because we didn’t go straight to the barn. Sara and I wanted to be sure he had a clue who was in charge. Eventually he realized that prancing around foolishly was just making him sweat, and he did the circles he was asked to do.
Sara said we’d had a real breakthrough and she was very proud of me. I realized once again that I CAN push past fears and do things that need to be done so that I and others (including horses) can grow and do better.
The Hermits' Rest 