Ranch Life – Page 134 – The Hermits' Rest

Horse Detective Work

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.

Brave Suna, Part 2: What Does It Look Like?

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?

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!

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?

Suna the Brave

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.

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.

Whew. I needed that.

Prairie Patrol

The front pasture at our house hasn’t had herbicide applied to it, so it’s full of wildflowers, grasses, and riparian plants (by the arroyo). Since our internet tower got messed up and I can’t use the computer to write, I thought I’d share some images from walking around the pasture after a rain. It’s really windy, so the grasses are blowing around.

The Cochin Chickens Are Trouble

You may recall that I recently bought some hens, two of which were beautiful, fluffy Cochins. Fancy Pants, the gray one, was the biggest and prettiest, but she was never very active. Lately we’d been worried about her, because she never started laying, and her vent area got dirty.

Lacy Legs is in front. Fancy Pants is behind her.

Sadly, she passed away on Wednesday, when I was gone. Thursday was vet day. Sigh. Kathleen gave her a proper burial. We think she had reproductive issues.

The other Cochin, Lacy Legs, did start laying, and produced small white eggs that shaded to brown. Note that I said produced.

From top right, clockwise: Jewel, Lacy Legs, Bertie Lee, Ginger

This week she went broody! Geez, she barely started laying! So now she won’t come out of the roosting area and makes laying hard for the other chickens, who all want to use the same nest box.

It ain’t easy to get the eggs out, either.

It turns out these little darlings are very prone to wanting to be moms, that is, set on eggs until they hatch. Brooding. Great. The wooden egg won’t hatch. The other hens’ eggs won’t hatch. We have no rooster.

Hey. You just left me that fake wooden egg.

So. Will she stop? I think Buffy did eventually. But I don’t know what to do. She is determined. I’ll see if anyone I know has some fertilized eggs she can hatch and fuss over.

More food for us! Penney wants that bread very much.

Meanwhile, the other chickens just keep eating and making infertile eggs.

What’s an Office without Doors?

An Open Office

Like my corporate office in Austin that I haven’t seen since early March. And I do not like those one bit. That’s why I was extra happy to see that there were some new office doors hung in the Pope house when I got back to town today. I realize now they are the same style as the ones at Bobcat, my Austin House, only in knotty pine.

The door on the right is the one Chris had to cut down, because the opening is only 7 feet.

They are going to get stained to match the barn doors, to add a bit of contrast to all the white trim. The black hardware looks very nice.

The door to Lee’s office, with the barn door that separates his and Kathleen’s offices behind it. The doors will match.

Chris also got one of the barn doors partially hung, and is working on the other one. It’s no easy feat to get a big, heavy door securely affixed to a brick wall, so there’s lots of prep work and such. Once everything is ready, Chris will crack open the tube of super-duper epoxy that mixes itself in the nozzle and quickly use it to firmly attach all the support bolts and such. It only takes 45 minutes to dry, so you have to glue while the gluing is good, apparently.

You can see above the bathroom door the large bolts that will hold the barn door up. The door is at right.

Other things that are getting attached are the mantel pieces in the front office and my office. We don’t want them falling down, either. I’m getting excited about the area that will surround my faux woodstove in my office. Ooh, it will be a surprise.

New piece of wood to support the hearth. Still bummed that one brick is missing.

The Main Bathroom Shines

All of the furnishings are now in the main bathroom, though none of the plumbing is hooked up. The new shelving unit looks really nice, and the rustic vanity goes well with the lighting. You can actually tell it’s a bathroom now.

The half door opens and does not hit the vanity nor the light fixture
This vanity matches the “barn door” theme of much of our furniture
Here’s the broom closet looking all built-in

While losing a day of work going to Temple to get supplies and help stranded elderly people on the side of the road, Chris picked up the feet for our cast iron bathtub. That practically gave him a hernia, because WHOA these things are WAY bigger than they looked in their picture! They are huge!

I think it weighs 10 pounds. I know it’s 9 inches long. That is one BIG clawfoot.

Everyone thought surely I’d exchange them, but I figure they “make a statement” and we will use them. Most certainly they will hold up the tub, as long as the combined weight of legs and tub don’t collapse the floor! The installation guide just says it’s “extremely heavy.”

This has taken a while, but to me, it’s gone pretty quickly, considering that it’s mostly been done by one person!

Serpentine Visitor

I miss all the good stuff. Last night at the ranch, while Vlassic and I were safely snoozing in our Austin bed, the ranch dogs started barking like crazy and would not stop. Lee got up and looked out the front door but couldn’t see anything.

They continued to bark, and apparently the whole family yelled at them a lot.

Then, as Lee and Chris were going to bed, they found out what all the ruckus was about: a three-foot plain-bellied water snake. According to eye witnesses, all the dogs were hiding around the corner, in order of size, with Alfred peeking his head out, barking and ducking back behind a wall. The rest were his backups.

Head of snake. Chris graciously fished it out of the dumpster for me.

Chris got the snake out with a broom, then it chased him, then he took his machete (I do not know where that came from unless it was MY machete that I won in some raffle once) and made the snake dead. Boo hoo. I was not there to convince them the snake wasn’t venomous.

The family believed it was a water moccasin, due to its head, which is all mushed up at this point, so the pit viperness is obscured. It does look a little triangular to me, too. I’m glad my iNaturalist friend aguilita identified it for me quickly as a regular ole water snake. In any case, it doesn’t belong indoors.

They think it must have come in when the wind blew the back door open. We are all glad the dogs didn’t go sniff it, since there are a lot of dogs getting bitten these days (Cathy J of Master Naturalists reported one rattlesnake bite and one copperhead bite just last week). Ah, rural Texas.

Vlassic, mighty disappointed that all he got out of this incident was a bit of dead snake smell.

I’m so glad to be back in Cameron. I’m also very glad to have naturalists who will help with identifying wildlife!

Keep Track of Your Small Doggies

This could have been a MUCH worse post, but it’s scary to me, nonetheless.

Last night we were sitting on the porch with the dogs, when Lee’s brother walked up and asked if we’d seen Vlassic. We hadn’t in an hour or so. We looked and looked and couldn’t find him.

Not much room for common sense in that brain. (Old picture, still true)

I got worried he had wandered over to the Laywells across the street, which he had done once or twice before, so Kathleen and I jumped into Hilda, our utility vehicle, and went searching. We saw the Dorners. Hi Dorners. We turned around. We ran into Mr. Laywell on his utility vehicle (they go up and down the road all the time), who did indeed have a small black dog in his lap!

But, it turned out to be a black terrier, the exact same size as Vlassic but way barkier. Nice to have a face to go along with the barking fits across the road (I’m sure they love knowing what the barking fits on OUR side of the road are caused by, too, so no judgment implied). Anyway, we made him talk to us again.

You can tell by the mud on his face that Vlassic likes to put his nose into things! He’s also been swimming a LOT lately.

We went by Mandi’s and yelled, we went over to Sara and Ralph’s…checked places he’d hidden before.

Finally we went back home, to find a small black dog in the grass. I hugged him a lot, then asked what had happened. Eek.

Vlassic had jumped into the pickup while Chris was getting some stuff out of it, and no one had seen him. He’d been locked inside the black truck for who knows how long.

If it weren’t for the pandemic, Vlassic wouldn’t have met his new buddy, Jim, with the RV that’s safe from mean ole Penney.

We are so grateful he is okay. I’d been thinking it was time to give up on dogs, since I seem to be pretty hard on them. Of course, we have once again reminded ourselves to check cars after we’ve been loading and unloading, because Vlassic or Harvey might have gotten in, ready for a ride. That’s so scary as summer approaches.

I love this dog SO MUCH. Here he is in a car. We made sure he got out.

So, if you have a dog that likes to go on rides, check your vehicles!

Footware Fantasy

Do you have a favorite pair of shoes? I believe I do. And a couple of runners up. I don’t have a shoe fetish or an actual mental health challenge about shoes. My Well, you may or may not agree.

I have a few shoes. There are more in Austin. I recently gave lots away.

Now I own a lot of shoes. I do. I’ve endured Imelda Marcos jokes for decades. Maybe young people don’t know about her and it will stop.

I always blamed it on my sun and moon being in Pisces ♓️. That sign “rules” the feet. Apparently the Piscean will either have beautiful feet or scary ones. My dad’s were very weird, and his high arches made it hard for him to buy shoes.

I had a pair of sandals for church at this age. I’m the one with fewer teeth.

I had very nice, average size feet that looked good in shoes. When I was little, we mostly went barefoot and got a new pair of shoes when school started, either loafers or Keds.

So, when I started earning my own money, the first thing I did was buy shoes. High school friends will remember the white patent-leather 6” platforms I bought in Mexico in ninth grade. I’m sure I looked like a puta, but I could be in the back row in chorus. Ha!

Second row at the end. The shoes are peeking out.

Anyway, I’ve always enjoyed shoes. I sorta miss my lovely Cole Hahn dress shoes, but my feet are thrilled that I now wear comfy ones. Now I just miss all the shoes in Austin I haven’t seen since the first week of March. Poor orange sparkles!

I hope someone is enjoying these. Not me anymore.

You might be surprised that my favorite shoes are very practical. They’re brown walking shoes, what a snooze. But they are infinitely comfortable, great for walking and hiking, and get this: they’re waterproof! I can walk around in the rain or afterward without wearing hot rubber boots.

And the bottoms have leaves!

You can see that used them to walk in mud.

I got them on a weird shopping trip with my stepmom. The store owner showed us all his guns. I felt so safe.

Other favorites are Corky’s flip flops, because they don’t hurt between my toes. Then there are the sparkly sneakers. All of them.

Others I like are the Skechers GoWalk series. They are good for work and dog walking. And my colorful Western shoes. Almost as great as the brown ones.

I love cowboy boots. Right now my favorites are these blue Ariats I wear for ranch stuff and riding. They have soon kind of cushioning that’s miraculous. My favorite dress ones are the snakeskin. So comfy.

My favorite work boots. Still in good shape.

I always wondered if other people were as fond of shoes as me. Maybe if you had a lot as a kid, they don’t matter? Or if you don’t obsessively match your outfits and shoes like me. I guess I’m a grownup at last, though, with this parade of comfy shoes passing as my favorites. Y’all missed my glory days!

Just Watching the Sky: A Photo Essay

After all the rain yesterday, there was a regular parade of colorful clouds, especially just before sunset. Kathleen and I sat on the porch providing commentary. Nope, you can’t get bored at the Hermits’ Rest.