The day Lucy was scheduled for a spay, I decided to take Baxter to the barn in an effort to tire him so that he would leave Lucy alone. I figured the day would either be a super fun time day or a day of terror.
My poor, poor Baxter.
We got to the barn and he resisted exiting the car. Eventually he did, but to his surprise there was a horse in the barn. Shooter moved and chuffed. In a fit of barks, Baxter dashed back to the car and refused to get out. Bark, bark, bark.
I called and called for him, but NO WAY, NO HOW was he leaving the safety of his hidey hole.
After many, many attempts to persuade him that Shooter would not eat him, Baxter eventually summoned up the courage to try to come inside the barn. He skitted passed Shooter's stall, made it all the way back to me at Kadance's stall, but the muck bucket was just too much for him and he fled back to the safety of the car, barking the whole way.
Baby steps and stutter steps, Baxter finally was brave enough to get out of the car and explore the grass area between the house and the barn. He even meandered near the fence separating the barn from the neighbor's pasture. Laying down, enjoying the sunbeam, the neighbor's horse remained still and unnerved by Baxter's wanderings. Baxter remained focused on the tip of his nose. Then, the neighbor's second horse, who was very interested in all the commotion, gave into his curiosity and ventured near the fence. That's when Baxter realized he was not alone. The sleeping horse looked up and PANDEMONIUM. Baxter went into a frenzy of barking. Each bark caused him to hop backwards. In just a few seconds he had backed up all the way to the car. The horses just watched the display of very false bravado. Once he reached the car, Baxter would rush the fence in a barking fury. The horse on the ground didn't even bother to get up and the second horse just stood there with ears forward.
The barking back-up and fitful dash forward repeated several times. He was so wound up that my calls to him went unnoticed. So, I left and headed out to the big pasture.
With his mommy gone, his courage abandoned him and Baxter came running. I scooped him up and decided that he might enjoy hanging out in the outside arena while I went to get Kadance. He seemed happy sniffing the grass and scampering in the horse-free zone. That is, until I had crossed the invisible line of "too far away."
He came chasing after me, barking incessantly. As I approached the herd, with Baxter about 50 yards behind me, Barney, a high-spirited, very curious horse took interest in the bounding, barking dog. Barney went to investigate. Not being outdone, the wanna-be stud pony, Willie, gallantly maneuvered to protect his mares. All the mares, who really don't need Willie's protection, joined in what had now become a chase.
Fearful as to what the horse might do if they caught Baxter, I bellowed, "Run, Baxter, Run!" Needing no additional encouragement, he fled in a shower of barks of false bravery, protest and terror. It didn't take long before I could no longer see my pup, but I suspected he would be found cowering in the car.
I collected my horse and made our way back to the barn. As I neared the car, Baxter's barks increased in frenzy and fierceness. Kadance could not have been less concerned. She appeared oblivious to the threats and protests of my boy. In attempt to ease his panic, I sat in the door frame telling him it was okay. He refused to believe me.
The rapid fire barks were punctuated with foaming spittle. Baxter's eyes were so wide that I could actually see the whites. I feared my boy would have a heart-attack. So, I took my horse and went inside the barn.
I tied my horse and went back to the car to rescue my dog. He calmed a bit and I picked him up and carried him into the barn. I placed him in the feed room with the door open. That way he could see the action and still be in a safe-zone.
The barks diminished and he remained alert. Occasionally, he would bark and I immediately reprimanded him. He began to relax and simply watch as I brushed my mare.
About an hour passed and Baxter slowly, oh so slowly, tip-toed out of the feed room and eased over to me. All was good until Kadance bent down and sniffed him. He jetted right back to the feed room. He shot back there so fast that I think he forgot to bark.
There he remained, unbarking, but unwilling to leave. After returning my horse to the pasture, I had to physically remove him from the feed room and carry him back to the car. Poor, poor Baxter.
He was so exhausted that he immediately fell asleep and remain that way all the way home. Even after Lucy came home from the animal hospital, he was too tired to even attempt to play.
My plan had worked perfectly. Baxter did leave Lucy alone so she could recover from surgery.
I'm hoping that the barn will become less of a scary place for him, but it is quite apparent that he was bred for mice and rats, not livestock.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
These Pups Play CONSTANTLY
Baxter and Lucy love to play with one another. It is constant. All day. The only time play stops is when I force them to separate or when they are just too tired to keep on playing.
When they go outside, I have to separate them else they forget what they are out there to do.
Don't think Baxter is the instigator. Lucy can dish it out. Sometimes, he'll be sitting quietly on one side of my lap and she'll be on the other, when she suddenly decides that he needs to have his face chewed upon.
They go back and forth.
"Stop touching me."
"You stop touching me."
"You're on my side."
"Get away from me."
"Gimme!"
"No! It's mine."
"You meanie!"
"I know you are, but what am I?"
"THAT'S IT! YOU TWO NEED TO SEPARATE!"
When they go outside, I have to separate them else they forget what they are out there to do.
Don't think Baxter is the instigator. Lucy can dish it out. Sometimes, he'll be sitting quietly on one side of my lap and she'll be on the other, when she suddenly decides that he needs to have his face chewed upon.
They go back and forth.
"Stop touching me."
"You stop touching me."
"You're on my side."
"Get away from me."
"Gimme!"
"No! It's mine."
"You meanie!"
"I know you are, but what am I?"
"THAT'S IT! YOU TWO NEED TO SEPARATE!"
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Empty Boxes
Many, many years ago, a friend made an analogy about personal satisfaction. He said imagine that every person has 1000 emotional boxes that need to be filled each day in order to be satisfied. Some of those boxes are filled by family, some by friends, some by hobbies, some by work, some by lovers, some by pets, etc. One person or one thing in life just isn't enough to fill all the boxes. Only a variety of emotional stimuli can completely fill all the boxes.
It's an analogy that I have been relating to all this time. Personally, I think I have become a more well-rounded person because of it. I dabble in an assortment of activities as anyone who reads this blog can corroborate. Generally, my boxes have been full. That is until my Sydney died.
When she left, felt all of my boxes drain. It was a tidal wave of despair. My grief was as if I had been wrapped in a blanket of painful emptiness. It lasted for several days. Even now, I periodically get choked up and sob.
Knowing that she was deteriorating, we brought Baxter into our family. I thought he would help keep her company and perhaps bring life to her as she did to my previous dog. Baxter didn't do much for Sydney, but he did bring many days of joy and play to Annabelle before she died.
Annabelle died while my husband was visiting family in California. Two dogs in such a short time. Can this place harbor any more negative experiences???
My husband was wrecked by Annabelle's death. He still grieves for her.
With Annabelle gone, we were down to two dogs; Jake and Baxter. Having had three for such a long time, two felt incomplete.
Baxter is a good dog and I love him. Unfortunately, some of my boxes remained empty.
Then, last Sunday, my husband picked me up from work and explained that the little female schnauzer that had been at the pet store for the last 5 weeks was STILL there. That cinched it.
The very next day, we went into the store. I asked for the schnauzer and told the lady to get the paperwork ready, Lucy was coming home. AND, she was coming home wearing a pink collar with bling, bling rhinestones!
She is precious! I LOVE HER!
The next morning, I went to the puppy store and purchased a name tag. Her tag has rhinestones, of course. As the weather has been cold and icy, she had to have a sweater. Pink, naturally. I found the perfect pink sweater for her and it fit her as if it had been specially made for her. As there was no price tag on the sweater, I causally inquired, thinking $18 would be an acceptable price. My guess was no where near the retail price of FIFTY-FOUR DOLLARS!
Well, no way was I going to pay that kind of money for a dog sweater that she will grow out of in 3 weeks. But, ma'am, it's 100% cashmere.
WHAT!?! I don't have a cashmere sweater and the last sweater I bought for myself was less than $20.
So, a bit of bargaining and super shopper points later, Lucy has a pink rhinestone collar with a rhinestone encrusted name tag and a pink cashmere sweater.
Baxter loves her. Jake prefers being left alone. Lucy loves Baxter. My husband loves Lucy.
And the best part of all....my boxes runneth over.
She is soooooo pretty. I just LOVE her!
Trust me, Lucy is very feisty and can easily give as good as she gets. She is top dog in her mind and isn't afraid to put Baxter in his place. She has no problem taking the toys away from him or muscling him away from the food bowl. My lap is the one thing that he claims priority over. So, as long as I snuggle with him and remind him that he is my big boy, he does fine.
Notice the name tag.
It's an analogy that I have been relating to all this time. Personally, I think I have become a more well-rounded person because of it. I dabble in an assortment of activities as anyone who reads this blog can corroborate. Generally, my boxes have been full. That is until my Sydney died.
When she left, felt all of my boxes drain. It was a tidal wave of despair. My grief was as if I had been wrapped in a blanket of painful emptiness. It lasted for several days. Even now, I periodically get choked up and sob.
Knowing that she was deteriorating, we brought Baxter into our family. I thought he would help keep her company and perhaps bring life to her as she did to my previous dog. Baxter didn't do much for Sydney, but he did bring many days of joy and play to Annabelle before she died.
Annabelle died while my husband was visiting family in California. Two dogs in such a short time. Can this place harbor any more negative experiences???
My husband was wrecked by Annabelle's death. He still grieves for her.
With Annabelle gone, we were down to two dogs; Jake and Baxter. Having had three for such a long time, two felt incomplete.
Baxter is a good dog and I love him. Unfortunately, some of my boxes remained empty.
Then, last Sunday, my husband picked me up from work and explained that the little female schnauzer that had been at the pet store for the last 5 weeks was STILL there. That cinched it.
The very next day, we went into the store. I asked for the schnauzer and told the lady to get the paperwork ready, Lucy was coming home. AND, she was coming home wearing a pink collar with bling, bling rhinestones!
She is precious! I LOVE HER!
The next morning, I went to the puppy store and purchased a name tag. Her tag has rhinestones, of course. As the weather has been cold and icy, she had to have a sweater. Pink, naturally. I found the perfect pink sweater for her and it fit her as if it had been specially made for her. As there was no price tag on the sweater, I causally inquired, thinking $18 would be an acceptable price. My guess was no where near the retail price of FIFTY-FOUR DOLLARS!
Well, no way was I going to pay that kind of money for a dog sweater that she will grow out of in 3 weeks. But, ma'am, it's 100% cashmere.
WHAT!?! I don't have a cashmere sweater and the last sweater I bought for myself was less than $20.
So, a bit of bargaining and super shopper points later, Lucy has a pink rhinestone collar with a rhinestone encrusted name tag and a pink cashmere sweater.
Baxter loves her. Jake prefers being left alone. Lucy loves Baxter. My husband loves Lucy.
And the best part of all....my boxes runneth over.
She is soooooo pretty. I just LOVE her!
Trust me, Lucy is very feisty and can easily give as good as she gets. She is top dog in her mind and isn't afraid to put Baxter in his place. She has no problem taking the toys away from him or muscling him away from the food bowl. My lap is the one thing that he claims priority over. So, as long as I snuggle with him and remind him that he is my big boy, he does fine.
Notice the name tag.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Big Grins
The weather has been absolutely wonderful; perfect for being outside with horses. So, that's what I've been doing this week.
My students were sick last week and were unable to attend lessons. It was just as well because last week, the weather was cold and wet. Completely yuck.
This week has been in the 50's and 60's and sunny. Perfect!
The girls had greatly improved on there ground skills and for the most part, are more comfortable on Kadance's back. She is a big horse and the girls are little. It is a long, long way to the ground for them. No major wrecks yet. They each have been taught emergency dismount. Luckily, they haven't had to execute the maneuver for real, only practice. Kadance has been a wonderful lesson horse. She is extremely patient and willing to cooperate with what is being asked of her. Of course, only from the girls. When the trainer, Ellen, or I ask, she sometimes shakes her head in defiance. Then, when asked to actually put forth some effort and shift into a higher gear, one above molasses, she periodically protests. My horse is much more Whoa than Go.
She was in good spirits this week.
My students were sick last week and were unable to attend lessons. It was just as well because last week, the weather was cold and wet. Completely yuck.
This week has been in the 50's and 60's and sunny. Perfect!
The girls had greatly improved on there ground skills and for the most part, are more comfortable on Kadance's back. She is a big horse and the girls are little. It is a long, long way to the ground for them. No major wrecks yet. They each have been taught emergency dismount. Luckily, they haven't had to execute the maneuver for real, only practice. Kadance has been a wonderful lesson horse. She is extremely patient and willing to cooperate with what is being asked of her. Of course, only from the girls. When the trainer, Ellen, or I ask, she sometimes shakes her head in defiance. Then, when asked to actually put forth some effort and shift into a higher gear, one above molasses, she periodically protests. My horse is much more Whoa than Go.
She was in good spirits this week.
Baxter Had Too Much Christmas
This was Baxter's first Christmas. He wasn't quite sure about all the activities. When I brought out the Christmas wrapping paper, he became confused. Jake, however, knew about Christmas and searched for his presents under the tree. One of the presents had catnip in it. Baxter loves catnip. He was very interested in that package. It wasn't until Santa came that the awesomest awesome presents showed up. Jake and Annabelle made hast and eagerly went for their presents. Baxter wasn't too sure, but when told it was okay, he shredded the wrapping paper and got down to business.
After we unwrapped our presents, we packed the car and drove north to Smithville, MO, to spend Christmas with the Parsley's. All the excitement was taken in stride by Jake and Annabelle. Baxter was operating at full capacity until he just couldn't take it anymore.
After we unwrapped our presents, we packed the car and drove north to Smithville, MO, to spend Christmas with the Parsley's. All the excitement was taken in stride by Jake and Annabelle. Baxter was operating at full capacity until he just couldn't take it anymore.
Last Photo of Annabelle
Big girl Annabelle went to Heaven. Her body just gave up. I was with her when she passed. She was a good dog. Jake and Baxter both still look for her.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
It's Amazing What You Can Find in the Ozarks
So, my amazing husband and I ventured down to Branson, Missouri, to see what we might find in the after Christmas sales. There were a few shops that I definitely wanted to visit. Simply Barbara and the Burnlington Annex were top on my list. We didn't find anything that I couldn't live without, mostly because I bought my favorite things before Christmas.
We then decided to catch a movie. Well, Branson is the place for live entertainment. Movie theaters are few and far between. As a matter of fact, we only found one and it only had three movies playing. None, of which, interested us.
However, during our quest, we found yet another outlet mall with additional stores. A giant Tuesday Morning was there. All Christmas items were 50% off. Naturally, I had to purchase next year's Christmas cards. After Christmas is the only time to shop for Christmas paper products. Besides, with the economy what it is and with ample coupons available, I've decided that I just don't want to pay full price for anything anymore. After spending a mere $32 in Tuesday Morning (WOW! I got a bunch of stuff for $32!), we meandered around the outlet mall. When...to what should my wander eyes should appear.....but Mossy Oak Mudslinger!!!
OF COURSE, I had to partake in that bit o' excitement!! AND...I had to get photographic evidence of my adventure! My husband, in complete chagrin, was forced to take my picture. Unfortunately, he lacked the two quarters to make the encounter a 100% success.
Lucky for me, a visiting family o' hillbillies was passing by. The patriarch of the bunch did have the change and ran over to Mossy Oak Mudslinger and inserted 50 cents o' fun for me. Squeal with delight and butter my biscuits!
Yee HAW!
What fun! Now, don't you wish you could try. Mind the warning though....Do Not Leave Your Child Unattended. Good thing my husband was there.
We then decided to catch a movie. Well, Branson is the place for live entertainment. Movie theaters are few and far between. As a matter of fact, we only found one and it only had three movies playing. None, of which, interested us.
However, during our quest, we found yet another outlet mall with additional stores. A giant Tuesday Morning was there. All Christmas items were 50% off. Naturally, I had to purchase next year's Christmas cards. After Christmas is the only time to shop for Christmas paper products. Besides, with the economy what it is and with ample coupons available, I've decided that I just don't want to pay full price for anything anymore. After spending a mere $32 in Tuesday Morning (WOW! I got a bunch of stuff for $32!), we meandered around the outlet mall. When...to what should my wander eyes should appear.....but Mossy Oak Mudslinger!!!
OF COURSE, I had to partake in that bit o' excitement!! AND...I had to get photographic evidence of my adventure! My husband, in complete chagrin, was forced to take my picture. Unfortunately, he lacked the two quarters to make the encounter a 100% success.
Lucky for me, a visiting family o' hillbillies was passing by. The patriarch of the bunch did have the change and ran over to Mossy Oak Mudslinger and inserted 50 cents o' fun for me. Squeal with delight and butter my biscuits!
Yee HAW!
What fun! Now, don't you wish you could try. Mind the warning though....Do Not Leave Your Child Unattended. Good thing my husband was there.
Friday, November 21, 2008
More Baxter Pictures
Little baby Baxter helping his daddy.
Big boy Baxter napping in momma's arms.
Pumpkin Baxter at Halloween 2008.
Baxter not hip to the pumpkin hat.
Sleepy Baxter wearing his sweater. My husband says he looks like Mickey Mouse's Sorcerer's Apprentice.
Baby Baxter and Buddy Jake.
Baby Baxter and me.
Only the After
My momma came to visit for a week. In that time, she and I did a tremendous amount of redecorating in my house. All the while, my husband was out of town. He only had a vague notion that the bedroom was to be painted.
The "before" pictures were overlooked, but let me describe my bedroom. There were curtains of a color that blossomed somewhere between dirty pink, dusty rose and mauve. To add that "finished" touch, there were matching pom-pom tassels with ecru stitching dangling from the valances. The combination pink matched the blushing cheeks of the maiden being pushed on a tree swing by little Lord Fauntleroy that graced the gray wallpaper in typical french provincial style. Not wanting to spend three years slumbering in a room covered with knickers and knee socks of latter day fashion, it was decided that the wallpaper had to go. Using a recipe for wallpaper remover that momma got from HGTV, we soaked the walls with laundry softener, water and soap. It made the job easier, but no less time consuming.
Once the paper was gone, a paint color had to be chosen. Round one was a dreadful mistake. What was supposed to have been a deep rich eggplant hue turned out to be concord grape purple. Lots of discussion was had before an earthtone brick color was chosen. It turned out great! I love it. New curtains were hung and the water stain on the ceiling was covered. The end result is a warm and cozy retreat were I can slumber snuggled in my bed.
The bathroom on the second floor was a dreadful mess. It is a small room, but the previous owners had decided that a dark stained oak vanity cupboard was appropriate. There was a side shelf that extended from the sink to the wall above the toilet tank. The placement of that section of counter top prevented access to the internal workings of the toilet. That posed a problem when the innards began to ware down and it became necessary to replace them. Not to worry, momma and I had a plan. There was also an over sized oak medicine cabinet with mirror. Turns out it covered a smaller cutaway hole for a smaller inset medicine cabinet and a previous cut hole for a previous light fixture. The fixture that sat above the jumbo medicine cabinet was to be removed and replaced with a more fashionable one that would better fit the smaller space and new mirror sans cupboard. The vanity was also history. It was replaced with a small pedestal sink. We opted to save the faucet to help keep the costs down. Now that the shelf above the toilet was gone, all the inner working could be replaced and a space was created for a cabinet that matched the new mirror. Not to forget paint. The previous pale tan was covered with a light green and a new shower curtain, window curtain and towels finished the project. The bathroom, as redone with a little help from a hired handy man cost $11,000 less than the Re-bath professionals wanted. Frankly, I like what we did and am pleased with the results.
The "before" pictures were overlooked, but let me describe my bedroom. There were curtains of a color that blossomed somewhere between dirty pink, dusty rose and mauve. To add that "finished" touch, there were matching pom-pom tassels with ecru stitching dangling from the valances. The combination pink matched the blushing cheeks of the maiden being pushed on a tree swing by little Lord Fauntleroy that graced the gray wallpaper in typical french provincial style. Not wanting to spend three years slumbering in a room covered with knickers and knee socks of latter day fashion, it was decided that the wallpaper had to go. Using a recipe for wallpaper remover that momma got from HGTV, we soaked the walls with laundry softener, water and soap. It made the job easier, but no less time consuming.
Once the paper was gone, a paint color had to be chosen. Round one was a dreadful mistake. What was supposed to have been a deep rich eggplant hue turned out to be concord grape purple. Lots of discussion was had before an earthtone brick color was chosen. It turned out great! I love it. New curtains were hung and the water stain on the ceiling was covered. The end result is a warm and cozy retreat were I can slumber snuggled in my bed.
The bathroom on the second floor was a dreadful mess. It is a small room, but the previous owners had decided that a dark stained oak vanity cupboard was appropriate. There was a side shelf that extended from the sink to the wall above the toilet tank. The placement of that section of counter top prevented access to the internal workings of the toilet. That posed a problem when the innards began to ware down and it became necessary to replace them. Not to worry, momma and I had a plan. There was also an over sized oak medicine cabinet with mirror. Turns out it covered a smaller cutaway hole for a smaller inset medicine cabinet and a previous cut hole for a previous light fixture. The fixture that sat above the jumbo medicine cabinet was to be removed and replaced with a more fashionable one that would better fit the smaller space and new mirror sans cupboard. The vanity was also history. It was replaced with a small pedestal sink. We opted to save the faucet to help keep the costs down. Now that the shelf above the toilet was gone, all the inner working could be replaced and a space was created for a cabinet that matched the new mirror. Not to forget paint. The previous pale tan was covered with a light green and a new shower curtain, window curtain and towels finished the project. The bathroom, as redone with a little help from a hired handy man cost $11,000 less than the Re-bath professionals wanted. Frankly, I like what we did and am pleased with the results.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Again, Accurate
JUST A HORSE
From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a horse" or,
"that's a lot of money for "just a horse".
They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs
involved for "just a horse".
Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a horse".
Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a horse", but I did not
feel slighted.
Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a horse" and in
those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a horse" gave me
comfort and reason to overcome the day.
If you, too think it's "just a horse" then you will probably understand
phrases like "just a friend", just a sunrise" or "just a promise".
"Just a horse" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust and
pure unbridled joy.
"Just a horse" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better
person.
Because of "just a horse" I will rise early, take long walks and look
longingly to the future.
So for me and folks like me, It's not "just a horse" but an embodiment of
all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and
the pure joy of the moment.
"Just a horse" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away
from myself and the worries of the day.
I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a horse" but a
thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a woman/man".
So the next time you hear the phrase "just a horse" just smile, because they
"just" don't understand.
From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a horse" or,
"that's a lot of money for "just a horse".
They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs
involved for "just a horse".
Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a horse".
Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a horse", but I did not
feel slighted.
Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a horse" and in
those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a horse" gave me
comfort and reason to overcome the day.
If you, too think it's "just a horse" then you will probably understand
phrases like "just a friend", just a sunrise" or "just a promise".
"Just a horse" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust and
pure unbridled joy.
"Just a horse" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better
person.
Because of "just a horse" I will rise early, take long walks and look
longingly to the future.
So for me and folks like me, It's not "just a horse" but an embodiment of
all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and
the pure joy of the moment.
"Just a horse" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away
from myself and the worries of the day.
I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a horse" but a
thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a woman/man".
So the next time you hear the phrase "just a horse" just smile, because they
"just" don't understand.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
The Reason I Ride
I thought this was accurate.
A Simple Statement.
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However, as many women who ride know, it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered out of reach or ability.
I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog, and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride. No matter how tired or how much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch. We haul 40ft rigs. We back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, wait, and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one. Now you are there. I ride.
--Author Unknown
A Simple Statement.
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However, as many women who ride know, it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered out of reach or ability.
I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog, and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride. No matter how tired or how much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch. We haul 40ft rigs. We back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, wait, and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one. Now you are there. I ride.
--Author Unknown
Friday, September 05, 2008
Sydney
My precious girl, Sydney, died last week. It is believed she suffered from lymphoma which had invaded her liver and pancreas. She had lost 1/3 of her body weight in 3 months. In spite of a valiant effort, she just couldn't take it anymore.
I miss her terribly.
She was Baxter's snuggle buddy. He was lucky to have spent a few days with her.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Baxter Comes Home
There is a pet store just down the road from we live. The best part about this pet store is that they encourage folks to pet the puppies. Well, I'm not one to ever pass up the opportunity to pet a puppy, I take advantage of this practice about twice a week, maybe more. Fridays are the best days to go because they get a new shipment of puppies every Thursday.
Well, this miniature schnauzer has been at the store for several weeks. Other schnauzers have come and gone while he has remained. I've been petting this little guy for weeks. Because he is an older puppy, 3 months, and has been there a while, his price kept going down. When his price finally reached the lowest amount at which he would be offered, I started in on my husband.
Now that our daughter has decided to move out of the house, my amazing husband is beginning to suffer from empty nest syndrome. He, contrary to his gruff exterior, has a very soft spot for little fuzzy animals. This puppy snuggled in his arms and gave a little puppy kiss with his puppy breath and my husband's shell began to crack.
Last night didn't take much effort, as I have been begging for weeks and weeks. Finally, he relinquished his "NO MORE PUPS! WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER DOG! WE HAVE THREE ALREADY! NO MORE ANIMALS, PERIOD!" position and said the baby could come home. YES!!
Well, this miniature schnauzer has been at the store for several weeks. Other schnauzers have come and gone while he has remained. I've been petting this little guy for weeks. Because he is an older puppy, 3 months, and has been there a while, his price kept going down. When his price finally reached the lowest amount at which he would be offered, I started in on my husband.
Now that our daughter has decided to move out of the house, my amazing husband is beginning to suffer from empty nest syndrome. He, contrary to his gruff exterior, has a very soft spot for little fuzzy animals. This puppy snuggled in his arms and gave a little puppy kiss with his puppy breath and my husband's shell began to crack.
Last night didn't take much effort, as I have been begging for weeks and weeks. Finally, he relinquished his "NO MORE PUPS! WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER DOG! WE HAVE THREE ALREADY! NO MORE ANIMALS, PERIOD!" position and said the baby could come home. YES!!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Kadance Comes Home
Day before yesterday, my sister and her family delivered my most amazingest mare of all time. Apparently, the reports of a 15 minutes trailer load was replaced with an hour-long event, but eventually, my mare was loaded into the trailer and driven from Oklahoma to Bois D'Arc, MO, without further incident.
Once she arrived at Green's Acres, she settled in immediately. No worries, what-so-ever. All was good. Then, after several minutes of love and pets and lots and lots of sniffing, I released her into the pasture. It took several more minutes before the resident herd decided she was worth investigating.
The omega horse, a chestnut named Jewel, was first to approach and attempt to establish dominancy. Kadance, being a non-aggressive horse, allowed Jewel to huff and puff. The rest of the herd came galloping across the pasture and everyone participated in a game of chase. The dominant mare, Vegas, took charge and put Jewel in her place while the alpha gelding, Shooter, asserted himself. Then Willie discovered that Kadance was a mare and apparently coming into estrus. When some horse ran Kadance away from the herd, Willie was right by her side protecting her from the others. Where Kadance went, Willie followed with Shooter not too far away. By the time the horses were brought in for the night, a triad, Kadance, Willie and Shooter, had formed.
The next morning, Kadance had a visit from the ferrier. No worries. The trim was successful. After a repeated introductions to the fly mask and velcro, Kadance was release into the pasture without incident.
Later in the afternoon, I retrieved my most amazingest mare and put her through all seven Parelli games. She performed brilliantly and I couldn't have been happier. Not wanting to ask for too much on her first day at the new barn, I released her back into the pasture. And who was eagerly awaiting her return.....Willie! As soon as I opened the gate, he dropped his weenie and started huffing and puffing. No sooner than I had released her and closed they gate, he started rubbing his head and neck along her back and rump. She was not at all put off by his behavior. A few squeals of delight later, he mounted her and stuck that weenie right on in. She stood perfectly still for him. What a tramp I have!
I had been advised that Willie is a proud cut gelding, but I wanted to make certain that I wasn't going to end up with a second horse. I asked the barn owner/operator, Brenda, if we were sure Willie didn't have to goods to back up his claim.
She said she had seen the same actions earlier that day and called Willie's owner to verify that Big Willie's family gems were a distant memory. The overall consensus is that Willie is in fact truly sans gonads.
This morning's adventure with Kadance was a disappointing failure to load her into a two-horse straight load trailer in a timely manner. Not wanting to hold up everyone's scheduled trail ride, I opted to stay at the barn and play assorted games with my girl.
We had a pleasant morning grooming, playing Parelli games and riding around in the pasture. On the far side of the pasture, hidden behind tall trees and shrubs, the neighbor's place is home to chickens. The unseen source of clucking and squawking and subsequent calls for the dog to "come here" were confronted with ease.
Deciding to end my morning on a good and positive note, I praised my most amazingest mare and took her back to her pasture. No surprise....Willie was eagerly awaiting her return. The closer we got to the gate, the longer his weenie. Within seconds of her release and my exit, he started rubbing her body with his head.
As I returned to the barn, Kadance trotted off with Willie's nose right behind her.
Once she arrived at Green's Acres, she settled in immediately. No worries, what-so-ever. All was good. Then, after several minutes of love and pets and lots and lots of sniffing, I released her into the pasture. It took several more minutes before the resident herd decided she was worth investigating.
The omega horse, a chestnut named Jewel, was first to approach and attempt to establish dominancy. Kadance, being a non-aggressive horse, allowed Jewel to huff and puff. The rest of the herd came galloping across the pasture and everyone participated in a game of chase. The dominant mare, Vegas, took charge and put Jewel in her place while the alpha gelding, Shooter, asserted himself. Then Willie discovered that Kadance was a mare and apparently coming into estrus. When some horse ran Kadance away from the herd, Willie was right by her side protecting her from the others. Where Kadance went, Willie followed with Shooter not too far away. By the time the horses were brought in for the night, a triad, Kadance, Willie and Shooter, had formed.
The next morning, Kadance had a visit from the ferrier. No worries. The trim was successful. After a repeated introductions to the fly mask and velcro, Kadance was release into the pasture without incident.
Later in the afternoon, I retrieved my most amazingest mare and put her through all seven Parelli games. She performed brilliantly and I couldn't have been happier. Not wanting to ask for too much on her first day at the new barn, I released her back into the pasture. And who was eagerly awaiting her return.....Willie! As soon as I opened the gate, he dropped his weenie and started huffing and puffing. No sooner than I had released her and closed they gate, he started rubbing his head and neck along her back and rump. She was not at all put off by his behavior. A few squeals of delight later, he mounted her and stuck that weenie right on in. She stood perfectly still for him. What a tramp I have!
I had been advised that Willie is a proud cut gelding, but I wanted to make certain that I wasn't going to end up with a second horse. I asked the barn owner/operator, Brenda, if we were sure Willie didn't have to goods to back up his claim.
She said she had seen the same actions earlier that day and called Willie's owner to verify that Big Willie's family gems were a distant memory. The overall consensus is that Willie is in fact truly sans gonads.
This morning's adventure with Kadance was a disappointing failure to load her into a two-horse straight load trailer in a timely manner. Not wanting to hold up everyone's scheduled trail ride, I opted to stay at the barn and play assorted games with my girl.
We had a pleasant morning grooming, playing Parelli games and riding around in the pasture. On the far side of the pasture, hidden behind tall trees and shrubs, the neighbor's place is home to chickens. The unseen source of clucking and squawking and subsequent calls for the dog to "come here" were confronted with ease.
Deciding to end my morning on a good and positive note, I praised my most amazingest mare and took her back to her pasture. No surprise....Willie was eagerly awaiting her return. The closer we got to the gate, the longer his weenie. Within seconds of her release and my exit, he started rubbing her body with his head.
As I returned to the barn, Kadance trotted off with Willie's nose right behind her.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
In the Beginning
In preparation to this move, an inspector came out to the house to determine the approximate weight, size and shape of our household goods. This information was relayed back to the packers and movers so that they know what size and how many of what boxes they would need in order to move our stuff. So, when the inspector came to my Mexican pot, I told him that it was fragile and one of a kind and irreplaceable. I asked for a crate to be built to ensure that it would not be broken during transport. He informed me that a crate would not be built and that the packers would take care of it.
So, when the packers showed up, they took one look at the pot and told me that they would not pack it. I told them I wanted a crate to be built, they said they would not build one and that the movers would wrap it in shipping blankets.
When the driver/mover showed up, he took one look at the pot and asked why the packers didn't pack it. I told him that I wanted a crate built but was told it would not be possible and that he was to wrap it in a shipping blanket. He said the packers should have packed it and he then called the main office and requested a packer to be sent out immediately.
When the packer arrived, she looked at the pot and wanted to know why the packers had not packed it. Again, I told the story of my wanting a crate built, but being told blankets would be used. She said she would take care of it.
Into a wardrobe box it went. Then lots and lots of paper was stuffed inside the pot and some paper was stuffed along the sides. Unfortunately, no paper or bubble wrap was placed on the bottom of the box prior to my pot going in. It seems to me that almost a whole package of paper, which must have weighed ten pounds, was put on top of my pot and then the box was taped shut. With a ballpoint pen, the box was labeled "fragile vase."
When our goods arrived in Springfield, I was concerned for my pot. When I finally discovered the box, I carefully opened the top and was immediately suspicious as my pot didn't appear to be as tall as it should have been. I removed the heavy paper from the top and cut open the side of the box. The damage made me sick to my stomach. My one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable Mexican pot was crushed. The manner in which it broke, makes me think that it was dropped. The whole bottom is in pieces. That's when I noticed that no care or caution had been taken to pad the bottom of the box.
Until a claims adjuster can come to my house and visually inspect the damage, I have to keep it. Seeing it in pieces in my dining room hurts my heart. I loved that pot. The topper is that I made a special request to have a crate built. I repeatedly told all of those involved in the moving process that it was fragile and should it be damaged, I would never be able to replace it.
Alas, this was not the only casualty of this move.
So, when the packers showed up, they took one look at the pot and told me that they would not pack it. I told them I wanted a crate to be built, they said they would not build one and that the movers would wrap it in shipping blankets.
When the driver/mover showed up, he took one look at the pot and asked why the packers didn't pack it. I told him that I wanted a crate built but was told it would not be possible and that he was to wrap it in a shipping blanket. He said the packers should have packed it and he then called the main office and requested a packer to be sent out immediately.
When the packer arrived, she looked at the pot and wanted to know why the packers had not packed it. Again, I told the story of my wanting a crate built, but being told blankets would be used. She said she would take care of it.
Into a wardrobe box it went. Then lots and lots of paper was stuffed inside the pot and some paper was stuffed along the sides. Unfortunately, no paper or bubble wrap was placed on the bottom of the box prior to my pot going in. It seems to me that almost a whole package of paper, which must have weighed ten pounds, was put on top of my pot and then the box was taped shut. With a ballpoint pen, the box was labeled "fragile vase."
When our goods arrived in Springfield, I was concerned for my pot. When I finally discovered the box, I carefully opened the top and was immediately suspicious as my pot didn't appear to be as tall as it should have been. I removed the heavy paper from the top and cut open the side of the box. The damage made me sick to my stomach. My one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable Mexican pot was crushed. The manner in which it broke, makes me think that it was dropped. The whole bottom is in pieces. That's when I noticed that no care or caution had been taken to pad the bottom of the box.
Until a claims adjuster can come to my house and visually inspect the damage, I have to keep it. Seeing it in pieces in my dining room hurts my heart. I loved that pot. The topper is that I made a special request to have a crate built. I repeatedly told all of those involved in the moving process that it was fragile and should it be damaged, I would never be able to replace it.
Alas, this was not the only casualty of this move.
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