Humans and Horses

My college-student-who-likes-horses daughter has been wanting to ride Rose. Today we girded our loins, fetched Rose and George out of the pasture and set about tacking up.

As my youngest daughter was only planning to lead George on the walk, we put the Wintec Endurance Cair Panel saddle on Rose. It has a good feature:

namely you can adjust this strap so that the
girth can fall more to the back or front.

Rose has a large barrel, and if the girth hangs straight, it slides too far forward behind her elbows, and pulls the saddle down onto her withers and elevates the cantle. But by setting the girth to fall further back, it evens up the downward pressure on the saddle.

End of ride, so the pad has slid back, but you
can see how the girth is farther back.

We also tried out the new bitless bridle on Rose. It was a bit big, and we didn't bother to make new holes yet, but it worked out pretty well.

This is Rose discovering the neighbour's sheep. She looks way less alarmed
than either Bridget or George when they first saw the woolly peril.

Rose was a little tense starting out on our ride, what with leaving Bridget and Chloe behind, and so my daughter started out leading her. After a short while, she decided to mount up. One thing about Rose is that she never has any objection to someone climbing on her back, and today was no exception. Once my daughter was on board in fact, Rose visibly relaxed. I wonder if it was in some way comforting. We continued down the road, with George leading at first.

In the field it's Rose who leads, however, and pretty soon she made it clear that she wanted to go in front. She was full of forward motion but stayed loose and stretched out until we reached the sheep.  At that point, she got a little tight again. This was also the spot where there was an option to go down a lane to the right, and Rose was certain she wanted to head in this new direction. Our neighbour down the lane has horses, and as we approached, Rose got more and more tense. George, in the meantime, stayed lop-eared and calm. No worries for him - Mom was leading the way. Rose and the other horses whinnied to each other, and after a few exchanges, it seemed like a good time to suggest turning toward home.

Rose became progressively more relaxed the closer we got to home. By the time we reached our fence she was really stepping out and stretching, and her eye was calm and happy. As we walked up the drive, Rose gave Bridget (who was on the other side of the fence) the evil eye, which is what she does when she's getting attention and wants Miss Bridget to go away.

With the horses reunited in the field, we stayed to schmooze for a while. Rose must have felt that our expedition had given us a new connection, as she crept up to say hello to me - something she rarely does.

I dunno - I kind of all felt we were all one happy family.

What Me Worry?

The New George. My feeling that George's aggression stemmed from insecurity and alienation seems to be corroborated by his new relationship with Rose. He follows her everywhere, tucked into her side like a foal. His wee ears are always lopping to the outside of his head in opposite directions, and he seems to have no worries in the world. It's a little Oedipal, but he apparently has decided she's his Mom.

Hoof Notes

My first navicular (confirmed by x-rays) horse - when the owner called, I said I'd come look, and if the hoof was already pretty well balanced, there was probably not much more I could offer. The hoofs turned out to be NOT well balanced. The ratio of the back of the hoof (from the widest part of the hoof to the heel landing) to the front of the hoof (widest part to breakover) ideally should be 60/40. In this horse it was probably 20/80, or worse. So I said if we keep the hoofs balanced for a few months, there may well be some improvement. The RF (the worst foot) also noticeably landed toe-first, with a weird flick in the fetlock joint as the weight transferred backwards, which - I believe - is associated with the cause of navicular - namely friction of the DDFT over the navicular bone.

After trimming, I got the ratios to almost 50/50. The horse appeared to be standing better, with his forelegs more directly underneath him instead of parked out in front.  The owner walked him around the yard. On soft ground he walked fine, but on harder ground he noticeably put his RF toe down first. We decided (hoped!) this was due to his frog not being used to contacting the ground, and hopefully it'll callous up and get stronger.

My first club foot - a textbook club foot! Narrow LF heel with straight bars, smaller and more upright hoof than the opposite foot. The horse goes sound. I trimmed according to the sole landmarks, and although both left and right heels were trimmed down to the frog buttress, the left heel still looked taller when both feet were on the ground. First rule of club foot trimming: Don't Try to Make the Club Foot Match the Other Foot. The club foot heel had grown higher than the opposite foot - it'll be interesting to see if this happens again. It may be that this happened just because of the more upright habit of the club foot, while in the normal foot the new growth pressures the growing heel into under-running more.

A "splat" foot - this horse had straight growth of a couple of inches from the hairline, and then - splat. I didn't dare take the toe back to where breakover ideally should be, as the foot was so shallow and I was afraid to compromise the coffin bone. However, the horse had a prominent sole callous growing all the way up each side of the frog and in an arch around the frog apex. Presumably this callous has grown up to protect the coffin bone - marvellous how the foot responds to challenges. This callous was hard, live sole - definitely leave it in place, as it is much needed at the moment. I think this horse may have gotten in a pickle, as I think it's one of those horses whose feet are just naturally really small, and perhaps no one ever dared shorten his toes enough. In the three years since his current owner has had him, he has always had a problem with going splat in the feet. The owner couldn't remember, however, whether his feet were always flat underneath. I asked her to never clean the mud out of his feet, as it will provide extra cushioning and protection. It will be interesting to see how his feet progress.

Another flat foot, although not quite reaching the splat designation. This one had what at first I thought was a lot of false sole - but which turned out to be rock-hard, live sole - surrounding the frog, completely filling in the bottom of the hoof. Again, in such a flat foot, this sole was probably serving the very important function of protecting the inner structures of the hoof. The horse had a prominent toe callous, which I left completely alone, even though this meant leaving breakover forward of where it might ideally be.

And speaking of toe callouses - this horse was one of three whose owner feeds them a biotin supplement - Biotime - and they had the most impressive toe callouses I've ever seen. I mean, Ovnicek's always talking about toe callouses, but his horses are all running around on dry, hard Colorado ground, whereas around here, it's much softer and wetter, and frankly you're hard pressed to find any toe callous at all on the feet in this neighbourhood. These horses' feet were also all in really good shape considering that they hadn't been trimmed since at at least January.

I recently watched a video from the Mission Farrier School about trimming soft-ground hoofs. He advocates leaving a little heel in these conditions, and the mud will pack in and allow the frog to remain in ground contact. Another horse I trimmed this week was a former Royal Canadian Mounted Police horse, now owned by a sweet little girl and her grandfather. This horse again had not had her feet trimmed for a while. But her heels were not terribly overgrown - sure enough her feet were packed with dirt, and the frog, which on dry ground would have been out of ground contact by about maybe 1/4 - 1/2 inch, was healthy and well developed.

Here's what I need to buy - a short-handled rasp which is easy to use with one hand. And a mini horse Hoofjack.

A Week of Minis

Five on Monday, two on Tuesday, and two today - each one cuter than the other.

Here's what I learned - minis' feet are teeny, so the hairline is close to the edge of the hoof, so you have to be very careful not to rasp the hairline when you're working on the outside. Sorry, Bonnie.

A couple of these little guys stood out. One was a young chestnut stallion with a penchant for charging round the field, spinning, and bucking, and leaping. "Uh oh," I thought, "we've got a live one here." But he was the sweetest, most cooperative, and most thoughtful of all - so easy to trim his feet.

Another was a yearling gelding, who at some point in the proceedings (it was only his second trim) came to the conclusion that I was showing him a super fun game - maybe rugby, or wrestling, or ballroom dancing. At that point I realized I had to get - not stern - but at least serious, if we were going to get through. But what fun to have a horse who's so little that it doesn't matter if he experiments by climbing onto your lap!

His brother was a much more solemn little fellow, who would back away when he'd had enough and then, if you waited patiently, would step forward into position again and offer his foot.

When you meet a mini, it is good to sit down on the ground so they can inspect you properly.

They are just all so cute and clever, and their little round eyes look at you with such curiosity and intelligence. I swear they are fairies with hoofs.

This is good. I'm getting my mini fix so I won't be tempted to acquire one.

BFF

It's taken a year, but Rose and George are now bestest buddies. I even saw Rose nibbling on the edge of George's dinner dish yesterday while he was still eating.

Moreover, Rose has figured out how to lead the herd. She drives Chloe in the desired direction, and as everyone always follows Chloe, Rose can "lead from behind" and dictate the group's next move.

Being friends makes them both happy.

A Walk on the Wild Side

Most of the time Bridget is her usual 50% Arab, 50% whatever-it-is self. Yesterday, however, she manifested 110% Arabian for a little while - the glamor and drama quotient skyrocketed, and a new name for her appeared in the periphery of my mind, but I couldn't catch it.

After I let the horses onto the lawn, Bridget walked to where the gates formed an overlapping barrier across the driveway and gazed, longingly I thought, at the great world beyond.

So - I fetched the halter and invited her to come with me for a walk. She set off, wide-eyed, down the drive - no thoughts for the folks back home, all her attention focussed on what was Out There.

We walked and jogged together, stopping periodically for Bridget to assess various strange happenings in the distance - a truck pulling a trailer loaded with round bales, and other phenomena visible only to her keen senses. Whenever she was ready to move forward, she would relax her neck and back, drop her head toward me, and off we'd go again.

A few hundred yards down the road, there is a choice - go straight, turn right onto the farm lane, or go home. Bridget unhesitatingly chose the farm lane. She walked forward keenly, and then she saw THEM. The Holsteins.

Consumed with intense interest and excitement on seeing such strange beasts, she wanted to keep going towards them, a few steps at a time. After a few minutes of this, I asked her if she wanted to go home.

As soon as we turned around and were headed back, her pent-up emotion burst forth, and - behold! - there was the new Bridget. Flaring nostrils, snorting, tail high, passage-ing in circles around me. I couldn't help smiling. I was reminded why I like Arabs so much - all that fizz and fire, but - somehow - contained. Because despite the turbo-charged display, Bridget was very much still connected to me - she came close to running into me a couple of times, but a raised hand deflected her, and I didn't feel she was about to take off or lose her mind.

We proceeded thus up the lane toward the corner of the road, where one of the round bale trucks was returning, having deposited its load. I lead Bridget onto the grass as the truck and trailer turned onto the lane towards us. She almost became airborne, but again I had no sense that she was in danger of trying to take off or break away from me.

As we continued along the last stretch toward home, Bridget kept getting ahead of me, and I kept reminding her to stay beside me. When we reached our driveway, George was waiting at the fence, where he and Bridget greeted each other as if she'd been in Australia for fifteen years. Back inside the gate, I let Bridget go - she chased Chloe very officiously, then attached herself to Rose, and seemed to breathe a big sigh of relief.

That's enough of being a grown-up for one day.

Togetherness

Liberty on the Lawn provides opportunities for horse-human interaction in a way which is not possible when the horses are confined to their pasture.

The horses must be rather curious about the people they see coming and going from the house. If those people are not particularly horse-oriented, they will remain forever just a distant curiosity. When the horses are allowed access to the human domain, however, they can introduce themselves to anyone they want to, infiltrating their space and working their horsey magic, Svengali-like, upon the unsuspecting humanoid.

Today, I happened to look over to the picnic area of our backyard, where the remains of last night's party were still strewn about. My not-very-keen-on-horses son was standing placidly with a can of soda in one hand, and the other hand resting on George's neck. Over the course of the next hour or two, my son and Bridget and George wandered in and out of each others' space - sometimes the horses seeking him out, sometimes the other way around.

Chloe and I rendezvoused in the field while the others were distracted.

George discovered my son and daughter outside the kitchen door and went over to be with them. As long as he was there, they stayed. When he left, they went inside.

Later, I took a stool outside onto the stoop and sat with George and Lucy the dog. Lucy allowed George to snuffle her, finally losing her equanimity and snapping at him when he nibbled a little too hard.

Here is George inspecting the air
conditioning unit thingie

Here is George just having tried to
get in the window.

Here is the naughty hole he made
in the process.

Speaking of  naughty, when we went outside to cook and eat supper, Bridget and George were determined to be part of it. They knocked over chairs, emptied coolers, tried to steal hot dogs, wanted to sit at the picnic table, and generally did not endear themselves to the human population other than me.

Bridget plans her attack.

When they were all tucked up back in their field and had eaten their own supper, I went in with my book and stool and bottle of beer.

Bridget thinks reading is boring.
She wanted to eat my book.

George succeeded.

Mostly, though, George stood quietly beside me.