Yesterday, my daughter took George out of the field for a walk, with Chloe following after. As part of the excursion, George was led up to the kitchen door to receive a treat.
Later, I looked out of the kitchen window and saw Bridget and my daughter playing the Harpo leg game in the field.
When unpacking boxes becomes too tedious, I can pop out and enjoy a few minutes R&R with the horses./
It is nice to all live in the same place.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Moving Up, etc.
Rose now has first-dibs-on-food seniority over both Bridget and Chloe. I'm hoping she will not come to out-rank George, as we think the responsibility of being the boss is good for him. Up til now, he's always been pastured with at least one more dominant gelding.
Rose initiates grooming with Bridget a lot. George has started to offer to groom me, which is a new development, and Bridget and Chloe are grooming each other too.
Bridget is obsessed with offering me her forelegs. We're working on our Harpo Marx routine. I'm Margaret Dumont, or maybe I'd rather be Groucho.
Chloe comes up to me a lot, but drifts away very quickly - presumably because she feels pushed by the others. I'm hoping she'll decide to come out of the field for some one-on-one peace and quiet and/or exploration.
George is delightful. He often comes up and slides me into his shoulder zone. He follows his young mistress around when she goes in to visit him.
Rose came up to my daughter but has so far not come closer to me than a couple of feet.
They like it when I carry Susie the Westie over to them. (She can't be left on the ground around so many horse legs.) They snuffle her fur, and she doesn't mind as long as she's mentally prepared. The other dogs refuse to venture into the field. I think maybe they associate horse pastures with electric fences.
The horses love their shade trees. Once or twice they've all galloped across the field together - so lovely to see!
Rose initiates grooming with Bridget a lot. George has started to offer to groom me, which is a new development, and Bridget and Chloe are grooming each other too.
Bridget is obsessed with offering me her forelegs. We're working on our Harpo Marx routine. I'm Margaret Dumont, or maybe I'd rather be Groucho.
Chloe comes up to me a lot, but drifts away very quickly - presumably because she feels pushed by the others. I'm hoping she'll decide to come out of the field for some one-on-one peace and quiet and/or exploration.
George is delightful. He often comes up and slides me into his shoulder zone. He follows his young mistress around when she goes in to visit him.
Rose came up to my daughter but has so far not come closer to me than a couple of feet.
They like it when I carry Susie the Westie over to them. (She can't be left on the ground around so many horse legs.) They snuffle her fur, and she doesn't mind as long as she's mentally prepared. The other dogs refuse to venture into the field. I think maybe they associate horse pastures with electric fences.
The horses love their shade trees. Once or twice they've all galloped across the field together - so lovely to see!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Shifting Alliances
This morning, Bridget and Rose were grooming each other.
Later, at breakfast, Bridget chased Chloe away from their shared pile of food, and I had to give Chloe her own.
Later, at breakfast, Bridget chased Chloe away from their shared pile of food, and I had to give Chloe her own.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Dusk
This evening, when it was almost dark, I went out into the field. The horses came up to join me, and I ran down to the end of the field by the road, where they had not so far ventured to explore. The horses followed, and we stood at the fence, looking over toward the mountain. I wished we could climb up there together and explore what is beyond that dark ridge.
As I was heading toward the house, leaving the herd grazing in the growing darkness, Chloe crept over and found me alone by the gate. I knelt down and scratched her chest while she nibbled my shoulder. Before long George came over, and Chloe moved away. Goodnight, horses.
As I was heading toward the house, leaving the herd grazing in the growing darkness, Chloe crept over and found me alone by the gate. I knelt down and scratched her chest while she nibbled my shoulder. Before long George came over, and Chloe moved away. Goodnight, horses.
Arrival
After a tour-de-force 18-hour drive by Melissa and her stalwart co-pilot, the horses arrived safely last night after midnight. It was not the time for niceties, so we turned them straight out into the field, where they disappeared into the darkness. Later, after the drivers had left, I set off into the field armed with a flashlight, and after wandering around for a while, I saw them coming towards me out of the shadows - first Chloe, then Bridget, then George. Rose was nowhere to be seen, but I figured that as she's not part of the gang yet, she was probably off by herself and doing fine. In the dark, as my fingers made contact with the horses' skin, it struck me how smooth and soft their coats were, the last vestiges of winter having been shed out since the last time I saw them. After we had greeted each other, the horses followed me to the water trough. Although a little more alert to sounds than usual, they were remarkably placid, considering that they had found themselves beamed down into a strange field in the middle of the night.
This morning, sure enough, there was Rose, grazing at a little distance from the others.
I brought everyone some feed and discovered that Bridget and Chloe are such good buddies that they will eat out of the same pile of feed without arguing.
There is a new dynamic in the group with the addition of George. He tolerates Chloe, who seems to have rather a thing for him. Bridget, however, is the object of his ire. The three stay pretty close. At the moment Rose keeps to herself in a very calm, self-contained manner, although at one point today I did observe Bridget leave the group and follow Rose, who used to be her pasture-mate at the rescue barn.
Every time I come out of the house, Chloe looks over expectantly. However, when I offered to let her out the gate, she declined. Several times I've come out to find the horses all staring over the fence at the house as if to say, "Ok, we've checked out the new field - what's next?" George very much wanted to come out of the field this afternoon. I put his halter on and took him for a walk around the house. He found the experience quite taxing for his nerves, and after rounding the corner of the house and coming into view of his friends again, he whinnied and was very eager to be put back.
When I go into the field, Chloe is usually the first one to come over, but she acts as if she's worried George or Bridget will push her away. George looks daggers at Bridget but doesn't become aggressive toward her if I'm standing with her. I haven't approached Rose yet and plan to wait until she decides to approach me. Her current status was manifest by Chloe chasing her away from the remains of her dinner this evening.
Thanks to the cows who have been keeping the pasture warm while the horses were away, the bushes and poison ivy which used to grow in the tree line have all disappeared. At the same time, the trees have grown considerably, providing an avenue of shade for the horses to rest in during the heat of the day.
This morning, sure enough, there was Rose, grazing at a little distance from the others.
Rose
I brought everyone some feed and discovered that Bridget and Chloe are such good buddies that they will eat out of the same pile of feed without arguing.
Bridget and Chloe share a meal
Every time I come out of the house, Chloe looks over expectantly. However, when I offered to let her out the gate, she declined. Several times I've come out to find the horses all staring over the fence at the house as if to say, "Ok, we've checked out the new field - what's next?" George very much wanted to come out of the field this afternoon. I put his halter on and took him for a walk around the house. He found the experience quite taxing for his nerves, and after rounding the corner of the house and coming into view of his friends again, he whinnied and was very eager to be put back.
When I go into the field, Chloe is usually the first one to come over, but she acts as if she's worried George or Bridget will push her away. George looks daggers at Bridget but doesn't become aggressive toward her if I'm standing with her. I haven't approached Rose yet and plan to wait until she decides to approach me. Her current status was manifest by Chloe chasing her away from the remains of her dinner this evening.
Thanks to the cows who have been keeping the pasture warm while the horses were away, the bushes and poison ivy which used to grow in the tree line have all disappeared. At the same time, the trees have grown considerably, providing an avenue of shade for the horses to rest in during the heat of the day.
George and Chloe graze with Cove Mountain in the background
A drink and a yawn
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Call Me Crazy
The horses are speeding northward up the interstate as I write - Chloe, Bridget, George and, yes, a fourth horse: Rose!
Melissa, the manager of the rescue barn, is kindly chauffeuring our little troop up to Pennsylvania. I was talking to her on the phone the other day and found myself agreeing to let her bring us another horse. Well, Rose is such a dear, and there's lots of room on that six-horse trailer, and Melissa wouldn't charge any extra, and of course we don't pay board here. And the Mississippi climate doesn't agree with Rose, who the vet said would do much better in the north.
The clincher came when I took one of my older daughters to visit her. My daughter, who is very intuitive and rather picky about horses, took an instant liking to her, and that was that.
So we will have the challenge of getting to know a new horse, who will have the even greater challenge of getting accustomed to her new surroundings and new companions. She is a former pasture-mate of Bridget, however, which should ease the transition for her.
Rose is a thoroughbred from polo stock. We went online and looked at pictures of polo ponies, and indeed she resembled them rather a lot. Rose is quite beautiful of course, but her neck is, well, shortish. I found it odd that the polo pony sites all talk about how a long neck is desirable for a polo pony, while at the same time depicting only short-necked creatures. Maybe I'm missing something.
She is rather reserved. I went several times to their pasture to visit Bridget before Rose came up to greet me. I confess to referring to Tellington-Jones in the matter of her almond eyes - according to the great T, such eyes mean a fundamentally very cooperative character who takes time to let down her guard. Sounds good to me.
All right. Four's enough. Don't nobody let me get a donkey.
Melissa, the manager of the rescue barn, is kindly chauffeuring our little troop up to Pennsylvania. I was talking to her on the phone the other day and found myself agreeing to let her bring us another horse. Well, Rose is such a dear, and there's lots of room on that six-horse trailer, and Melissa wouldn't charge any extra, and of course we don't pay board here. And the Mississippi climate doesn't agree with Rose, who the vet said would do much better in the north.
The clincher came when I took one of my older daughters to visit her. My daughter, who is very intuitive and rather picky about horses, took an instant liking to her, and that was that.
So we will have the challenge of getting to know a new horse, who will have the even greater challenge of getting accustomed to her new surroundings and new companions. She is a former pasture-mate of Bridget, however, which should ease the transition for her.
Rose is a thoroughbred from polo stock. We went online and looked at pictures of polo ponies, and indeed she resembled them rather a lot. Rose is quite beautiful of course, but her neck is, well, shortish. I found it odd that the polo pony sites all talk about how a long neck is desirable for a polo pony, while at the same time depicting only short-necked creatures. Maybe I'm missing something.
She is rather reserved. I went several times to their pasture to visit Bridget before Rose came up to greet me. I confess to referring to Tellington-Jones in the matter of her almond eyes - according to the great T, such eyes mean a fundamentally very cooperative character who takes time to let down her guard. Sounds good to me.
All right. Four's enough. Don't nobody let me get a donkey.
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