Nursery rhyme time

I took my horses to the vet,
Their coggins I was there to get.

Two horses load in without a fit,
My carrot stick not needed a bit.

We drive, we drive, we drive some more,
I hold my purse close and pass the tack store.

Then we stop in the gravel drive,
Two horses have made it here alive.

I open the door and one steps out,
Quiet and calm, without a doubt.

The other horse nods and does the same,
You'd think the pair was completely sane.

Two quick pokes, they didn't blink an eye
Then one and two load without a sigh.

Back at home both step quietly out,
Leaving me little doubt.

Days this drama free are sweet and dear,
And worthy of posting here.


-Fin-

Storm Ranch Ride, Part two: Miracle #1

I have been the recipient of some fairly significant miracles in my life, the biggest was when my daughter's second heart intervention (the first was a surgery, the other was a procedure to widen a valve) went from failure to virtually total cure with nothing other than time and serious prayer.

This was another significant miracle.

When I heard the sound at the cattle guard, that was most likely the point at which the trailer had leapt free of the ball, but was still on the hitch or chains. The next sound was it hitting the ground and scrapping along the asphalt. When we went back to look there were twenty yards of scratch marks in the asphalt, long thin white lines in the gray ribbon of the road, looking like claw marks.

The trailer brake never engaged because the chains themselves did not break and Donna, just like I do, places the emergency brake cable on the last part of the chain, where the hooks attach onto the frame of the truck.

I will never do that again. From now on that thing goes right on the ball.

Because the massive weight of the trailer stretched out the hook of the chain, and the hook slipped out of the holds like a wire clothes hanger that has been reshaped to unlock a car door.

The trailer plowed toward the side of the road, building of speed because of the ever so slight incline, passing us as if we were a slow driver on a highway. It missed the first set of trees by three or four feet, the very top branches lightly scrapping the roof - just enough to peel the lights on that side off. It came to a halt a good ten feet from the next set of trees, another grouping of massive trees.



We ran out of the truck immediately to check the horses. They were perfectly fine. They didn't kick or paw, or toss their heads. There wasn't so much as a bumped nose, and thankfully they were both wearing fly masks so any branches that might have poked them, didn't.

I secured my lead rope to Smokey (I had just hooked him to the trailer ties, and carried his rope in the truck) and opened the back door to the trailer. I realized it was a bit of a leap to the ground, particularly since the trailer was at an unnatural tilt. So instead of backing Smokey, I turned him and let him hop out. He was a bit up, but honestly no more up than he is whenever he arrives in a new place.

Donna did the same with Cloud. We tied them to the side and I set out hay bags so they could relax, while she called for help.


And help came.


In this picture you can see exactly how close we came.



You can see the dent in the front - we think the trailer hit the truck bumper although we didn't feel it.


We went over and over how this could have happened. I didn't hook up the trailer myself. I think of other people's trailers in the same way I think of other people's horses. You don't hook up another person's trailer any more than you mess with their horse. Help, sure. Line it up, absolutely. But every trailer I've come across has it's little idiosyncrasies, as does every trailer owner, present company included. So I can't be sure of what went wrong.

We know we had the right size ball.

We know we had the lock on (you can see it's still "locked" in the first picture).

The only two possibilities were that the ball has somehow gotten worn, or that the hitch never fully enclosed the ball. Despite the fact that the lock engaged. Can that even happen?

Eventually, with the help of a mechanic's jack and some well placed blocks of wood, we hitched back up, but since we were close to the starting point for the ride, we decided not to load the horses back in. If the trailer wasn't safe, we wanted to find out when the horses weren't in it. Instead we saddled our horses up while someone else drove the trailer over to the parking area about 100 yards away.

The horses were up, way up, but so were we. They were in a new place far from home, and we'd just survived, without a scrap, what could have been a full fledged nightmare.

It would be a long time before any of us calmed down.

And yet, believe it or not, there was one more miracle (albeit a more minor one) to come.

To be continued...

Storm Ranch Ride, Part one: Accidents will happen.

I was looking forward to the big ride on Saturday. Ever since the endurance ride I unexpectedly took part in last fall, I was looking forward to another opportunity to ride the Storm Ranch. When Donna suggested I take part in the TETRA ride out there, it was pretty irresistible.

The TETRA rides are walk/trot affairs with folks who are there to just trail ride. No timed obstacles. No vet checks. No goals other than riding together, staying safe and getting your horse out in a big group of horses they don't know. Don't get me wrong, I think the timed obstacles and endurance rides are terrific. But these TETRA rides are low key affairs in beautiful places. The kind of rides people travel for hours, by plane or by truck, the ones ranches advertise in the Trail Riders magazine. They are about not seeing buses, or monuments, or telephone lines. They are about the land, horses, and like minded horse crazy people.

They are not about accidents.

But these things happen.

-------------------

The plan was that we'd go in my truck and trailer, mostly because of gas mileage. Donna's diesel gets something like 5 meters to the gallon, so when possible we opt for our truck. I ran through my check list:

Clean Horse:

Check!


Er... uncheck. SMOKEY! Durn it!


Hey! What's the big deal?
I only rolled on one side this time!

Mexican trailer Jack:


Two new tires:

Check! Next month we'll get the other two.

I filled up the tank and was driving back home when I checked in Donna about departure time. That's when she told me she was taking Cloud.

Cloud? I said, a little surprised. Cloud is a terrific horse, but he's a HUGE Missouri Fox Trotter. Easily 16 hands, maybe more. Shoulders like a draft horse. "Do you think he'll fit in my trailer?"

Here's the trailer, which we used to go to NM last year.

The back load area of the trailer is bigger than the front, but a horse has to know to position itself to get it's hindquarters in. It's actually roomy, but with no rails to guide it into position I've had trouble with horses loading there. I wasn't sure how this was going to go.

"He'll be fine. He's really easy going," she said.

I imagined a scene from a movie where the big hockey player tries to sit in the elementary school chair while meeting with the teacher. As I recalled, it didn't go well.

I woke up at dark thirty, dropped the kids off with my mom, said bye to DH who was off on a motorcycle trip. I was at the barn right on time and proceeded to load a few last minute things in the trailer. Donna had already fed the horses, and we got ready to load.

Smokey was a little tough to load (again), and I had to wave off help. I'm going to load him repeatedly this week to get this tied down again. But after two attempts, he was in.

Then it was Cloud's turn.

Cloud took one look at the trailer and turned into a giraffe. Part giraffe and part hippo butt.

I'd never seen Donna not eventually get a horse in a trailer.

Until Saturday.

Cloud wigged out, to put it politely. I was there to try to apply pressure where directed. It was completely ineffective. Twice he knocked into Donna. Once knocked her on the ground. Three times he reared on his way out of the trailer (which was quite majestic, although a little scary given his size. 15-20 minutes of this and it was clear. We weren't getting anywhere.

A little about Cloud. He's Donna's hubby's horse. He gets ridden very little. He only rides (as far as I've seen) in her large 4 horse trailer. He'd been getting bratty, which was part of her reason for getting him out. Also she'd just sold her endurance horse and her horse in training had a pulled groin muscle.

As for Cloud, there was no way he was getting into the little two horse. It was time for plan B. We moved everything over to her trailer, and after a moment, loaded both in the 4 horse. We were running way behind, but still within the window of time needed.

------------------

We got to Storm Ranch through the back way, a way I hadn't gone before. There was a fork in the road and we ended up taking the wrong fork and had to turn around, going back through very narrow, very bumpy cattle guards. After we crossed the second one, I heard a weird noise from the back of the truck.

As I turned to ask Donna what that sound was my mouth dropped. There was the trailer, passing us like an errant ocean liner, headed for the side of the road.

"The trailer - it's passing us!" I said, helpfully stating the obvious.

I watched in horror as it glided by us, heading for a set of oak trees.

To be continued...

My Three Legged Horse in the Trailer

My horse. Mine.

Sunday was a big day around here. As of Sunday I own Smokey - final payment made on Cibolo and that went straight to pay off Smokey!

I cajoled Stephanie to a trail ride - but it was pretty gusty so we called Sharon to see if we could ride at her place.

But first we had to get them in the trailer. Smokey was reluctant to load. Really reluctant. Basically if someone stands behind him he'll load right up. So I've got some homework to do this Thanksgiving.

Cibolo had never loaded in the back section of the trailer before, so it took a few tries and a few taps on the rear.

When we got to Sharon's, Smokey started calling to the other horses. Stephanie headed to the arena and we took over the round pen.

Right about then I was pretty glad we were going to do arena work, because my horse was spazzing out. It got worse and worse. I realized I was too soft - unusual with Smokey, usually getting too big is a disaster.

I finally had to bring the rope into the round pen because I couldn't keep his attention. Remembering the run it out rule from the clinic and book, so I sent him around in canters, turning him when he called out. Slowly he hooked up.

Interestingly every time I asked him to stop, even when he was riled up, he stopped. If I called him to me, he'd come right up to me. Not sure what to make of that.

Anyway we began our work session in the arena. Cibolo did really well, and Smokey came around. Soon we were cantering well on the left lead, but he resisted the right. More home work. But I got what I wanted from him in our session - head down, responsive, better steering.

We loaded up for the trip back to the barn, Smokey wouldn't load, then loaded fine with pressure from behind, Cibolo hopped right in.

Then something happened. I don't know when. It's a 30 minute drive to the barn. I took my time, taking turns slowly and going extra slow on the road. I think I just didn't want the day to end.

We parked and got out to undo the horses' trailer ties. I stroked Smokey and reached down, and saw it. Smokey's front left was hung up in his hay bag. He was standing on three legs. I struggled to unhook the hay bag, his pressure was making it difficult to lift it free of the clip. I cursed that I didn't have a knife on me. After getting him to lean forward slightly I was able to free him.


He didn't limp out, never panicked, he just looked for help, standing still. I don't know how long his leg was caught. I don't know if he stood on three legs for the entire drive, or if he just pawed at a stop sign.

All I know is I'd just paid him off and now he almost broke his leg on a hay bag.

Somebody needs a new hay bag.
One that hangs much, much higher.

For my next trick I washed him off and watched as he rolled in manure. So now he's green, muddy, suspicious of hay bags and...

mine.

Trails and Trailer Loading Progress

Cibolo, trailer loading horsey work in progress

Sunday Cibolo and I went on another trail ride at my old barn. Driving back to that place, with the beautiful fields and nice wash rack area (at my current barn it’s a bit of a difficult proposition to wash off your horse) and the gravel filled arena, was bittersweet.

There’s a great deal I miss about that place – for one, it’s a place the kids love to go because they love Sharon so much. There are no big dogs around to scare Mireya (who has a distrust of all dogs other than ours) like there are at our current barn. I can’t even get her to come to the barn with me anymore.

And those big, beautiful pastures. I can just see my horses running through them daily.
Yes, it’s tempting to move back. But not practical.

It is nice to visit, though.

(If you are sick to death of reading about my tiny strides with trailer loading, skip to the next Cibolo photo...)

Cibolo and I had a trailer breakthough. I followed Kate’s guidance and thought of how I could replace the rock suggestion she made.

If you missed it in the comments, Kate explained how when she was at a clinic with Mark they worked on trailer loading. Mark would keep the horse’s feet moving by throwing little rocks at the horse’s feet at the precise time the horse froze in space, like Cibolo is doing.

One problem. 90% of the time, I’m alone. 5% of the time my daughter is with me and her accuracy with thrown objects is such that I’d probably come back with gravel in my hair.

I decided to take my riding crop in. I didn’t want to use the carrot stick because it’s large and obvious. I know it might sound silly, but not using it is how I’m conveying that we are doing this the partnership way.

As we prepared to go on our trail ride, Cibolo did his rope test. It’s getting better, this time he only pulled for 4 seconds. He’s a rope tester by nature, I think one must have broken on him and he has untied himself before. I don’t know that he’ll ever let go of that one. After a moment he stepped in the trailer and I moved the divider. He backed out. But then he put himself right back in!

Progress!

This time when he stopped, I tapped him gently and he moved into position. It was like a light bulb went off. Still not all the way forward, but very nearly there.

Progress!

He doesn’t like that scrunched up feeling, so the last step is still a challenge. But coming home we had the same relatively easy load.

I’d say we are 90% at this point. Friday we were probably at 70%.

Tapping didn’t quite get that last step. But I’m pleased. I’d love to get this all done in one session, but given that I’m on my own, I think I’m going to call it successful so far:

• Now my horse gets in the trailer without worrying.
• Now my horse steps to the side without backing out.
• Now my horse looks relaxed and willing during loading.
  

(Now if I can just get his butt in one more step!)

On the trail Sunday Cibolo showed that he’s just a fantastic trail horse.

At one point he got caught in some slick wire and simply stepped out of it. He was willing to go anywhere and do anything. My foot only bothered me in one trot – I think the padding on the stirrups really work well to protect my weird little bone.

Sooo, I think we’re ready to experiment with some of the trail obstacles that Lisa described. I don’t know that I’m interested in a Competitive Trail Ride, mostly because I can’t spare the time these days and am saving up my mommy time off for another endurance ride in the fall.


I'm back in DC. Mireya had a total melt down and I promised her I won't be going out of town without her anymore - a good bet since our budget has been nailed by all this activity we've had lately.

But here's my companion on this trip. Remember this guy? :)

We waited forever at baggage claim.

Hope you are well and riding (or hugging) horses!

Lily limps, trailer loading work continues

This morning after feeding horses, Sierra and I took Cibolo and Lily out briefly. We were just walking, but about 45 minutes it was clear Lily was feeling bad. We ended up walking back, stopping for hand grazing.

I'll be calling the farrier, but I believe it's just time for another injection for Lily. It's been 10 months, and I imagine the effects have been wearing off for some time.

Then we went to trailer loading class for Cibolo. Now he'll get in pretty well, but won't quite get in place for the divider. I haven't been able to work consistently, so I am determined to wait it out for a while. We've really only had 3 sessions and they've been spaced out over 3 weeks. Certainly not ideal training schedule.

I'm going to stay on this track for a few more sessions to see if I can get this where it needs to be. If we stay stuck, then I'll have to consider what I need to change...

Then, once Cibolo was in, we decided to load Lily, just for fun. She's been loading great.

But then SHE started to have issues. She'd get in and then hop right out. So we spent 10 minutes until she would at least stand in place - we opted not to go for closing the door because we were supposed to be done... Plus I knew she wasn't feeling well, which doesn't seem like a good time to work on training.

It's situations like this that make me wish I lived with my horses. I believe (falsely, maybe) that if they were just HERE I could work on something like this 2 x a day for 4 days running. Then we could really get it done. Instead I'm trying to squeeze things in between a brutal work schedule, the demands of motherhood and wifedom, and various domestic duties for which I am ill suited.

Sigh.

On the good end of things I was able to push Cibolo through a stubborn moment during the ride involving a refusal and scary flapping stuff, and my confidence never wavered. A few months ago I would have gotten off and walked us through it. I didn't even consider that this time. I regained his attention and we rode through it.

Could I be done with the fear that I rode with for so long?

Time will continue to tell.

Regaining what was lost

Our early trailer loading sessions, 2009.

At the end of our endurance ride and after a good bit of down time, it was time to leave. Leaving would be hard for Cibolo because he was going to have to leave his BFF Amigo.

But also trailer loading had been unwinding for us.

Back when we went to the clinic, trailer loading was already unwinding. Then he hit himself quite hard on the divider as went to close it on the last day. Ever since he’d become more of a pain to load and I found myself having to lunge and get stronger and stronger in my energy.

When people try to help me load him, it’s always worse. The whole “waving from the back” approach is ineffective at best with Cibolo, dangerous at worst as he will sometimes twist and turn like a gymnast avoiding both them and the trailer and me. If you think you’ve cut off every direction but the trailer, he’ll thread the needle just to the left that you never thought was possible. I always end up asking folks to leave me alone, and then we manage to load on our own. But it doesn't solve the problem, really. It patches it.

When I loaded him after the endurance ride, (after about 15 minutes) he wouldn’t even take the traditional “happiness is in the trailer” cookie. I’d gotten big with him, pushed him, had to tell people to not try to close the door behind him because that wasn’t going to help (it didn't and someone nearly got run over - he wasn't ready for that). Once he was in, it didn't feel much like a victory. It felt done.

I don’t want to anthropomorphize, but as I walked over to him, I could feel he was … frustrated at his treatment.

We went on a ride to the lake on Monday late afternoon with similar results. He took a long time to load to go home, and I ended up getting big, making him lunge, all of it, while it eventually worked, it was also all wrong.

I had read Lisa’s wonderful post about feeling her connection grow with Apache and I realized mine with Cibolo was being compromised with how I was handling his loading issue. Something was up and I needed to take the time to figure out what it was.

Sierra and I went to the barn to spend some time with Lily and Cibolo. Sierra is going through her emotional ups and downs of pre-puberty (“I’m sad and I don’t know why!” she moaned) and horse time turned out to be a wonderful salve.

We gave our horses a good cooling bath, then did some hand grazing.

Then I decided to take some time with the trailer. This time we weren’t going anywhere. We had time. He could confront his issues on his terms. I had no “carrot stick,” no cookies. Just the lead rope.

I got in the trailer with him three times (he’s always willing to go in if I’m there – it was the self loading and closing the bar that was causing problems), and on the third, he sighed and dropped his head.

Then we began the process of figuring out what was going on with self loading. At first he wouldn’t load. I didn’t do any lunging and only a tiny bit of gentle backing. That was more to get his focus, not “making the wrong thing difficult” kind of backing.

Soon he was putting his front hooves in the trailer and just standing there, a big old slanted horse. I let him stand that way as long as he wanted, and after a few times he was leaning in and stretching his neck out, sniffing, mostly at the dividing bar. He’d look around, checking everything.

It took about 15 or 20 quiet minutes and he got in on his own and stood there until I asked him out. Then we did one more load and he moved in and let me pat him gently to move him forward and lock the bar in place. It was quiet and calm.

And he took his cookie. His contact with me was no longer distant. Not perfect, not all the way, but definitely on it’s way.

I felt much better after this, felt like I was finally doing it right. I still think he’s going to have issues loading for a while. I believe I’m on the path of a permanent (as permanent as things get with horses) solution to loading that doesn’t compromise the other part of what I’m looking for with Cibolo: A solid, trusting mount, who follows me based on experience with my fair and even handed behavior.

I plan on doing this again this week,just taking time to do it right. Like Kathleen said, take the time to fix it, not just "good enough" but right.

Fix it. Not patch it.

Trailer, posting and just connecting

Today was my first lesson with Cibolo. I decided that since Cibolo has felt a little distant that before the lesson, I'd do a focus exercise. 

Usually I do two things I learned from a woman who almost bought Canyon from me over a year ago. I really picked up some good tips from her - she is a trainer that works with kids mostly, but is really keyed in with horses. She never uses bits and does amazing things on horseback. Here's her website.

Anyway, she told me to check your horses brakes and willingness with two tests. One, take a fingertip and pull down on your horse's halter below their head, near the lead rope. Your horse should easily lower it's head to just the slightest pressure . Do it from each side.

Second, back your horse from the ground with a fingertip to the chest/front shoulder. You should be able back the horse by only pointing to the chest.

So I always, always, do both tests on any horse I ride. I've found that sometimes it's clear that my horse isn't very responsive and needs some ground work before moving on.

But sometimes groundwork isn't quite the right thing. Sometimes its something else. The only way I can explain it is that the connection is just missing. And ordering Cibolo around in circles doesn't always bring the connection. 

But so far, the focus exercise does bring him around. Today I tried the same thing I did yesterday.  Just a little wiggle.  It took far less to regain and retain his focus. And when I got it back, it was amazing. I felt that connection again. In my mind I think "When you look at me, there is peace."

It works.  He actually ends up dropping his head into my lap, practically.

So it was a great time for my first lesson.

We worked on a few things on my list. One was working on turns. I couldn't tell how I was messing up my signals to Cibolo, but something was definitely off. He kept side passing. Which is darn ironic, don't you think? 

So for an hour the trainer helped me figure out what was going wrong. As it always is, I was missing one cue to keep him from side passing - a little bump on the outside leg. 

It was great - he was flexing into the turns. It went so well I decided to try this exercise from John Lyons.  It was fantastic. Cibolo floated his hindquarters over as I worked on "steering the tail."

Then it was time from my nemesis. POSTING. 

I can't two step and I can't post. 

But I did today. 

Okay, it was twice and for about 15 "posts" total.  But I finally felt what it's suppose to feel like. I think I can find the rhythm again with practice.

Then, to top it all off, Sierra and I loaded both Cibolo AND Lily. By our selves.

I loaded Cibolo fine, but I wasn't really up to trying  Lily. But the trainer insisted. Darn trainers. They take this whole "teaching" thing a little serious, you know?

:)

With Sierra at the window and with some persistent tapping Lily was in. And then I closed the door!

I almost passed out I was so amazed.

For my next trick I'm winning the lottery.  :)

Rain! Yay! Mud! Ick!

Since our Labor Day trailer loading labor, we've been experiencing something unique.

Rain. 

This is not the soft and gentle rain of autumn. This was God kicking over a bucket of water and drenching the place with 10 inches in three days.

We managed some trailer loading, and one short bare back ride but that was it. 

But I've been thinking of Kate's 15 minute rule. It's tough to find something to do that doesn't involve getting out of the small alley way at the barn, but I decided to try something very, very simple. I'm experimenting with a focus. It seems particularly important because I sense I'm losing Cibolo's focus. Understandable. He's got a new home, has made friends, is settling into a routine.

I'm not taking it personal. But I do need to redirect and refocus him.

Basically I wiggle the lead rope in an annoying way until my horse looks at me and then I stop. This is not the wiggle back up thing. There's no real energy from me. This is just a wiggly jiggly annoying thing. 

With Lily I've had limited success. She'll focus but just for a few seconds. And its reluctant. Still don't have the right rhythm with her.

With Cibolo we went from distracted to a solid 30 second stare. It took 10 minutes.

Today, after I did the feed and muck duty, I did some trailer loading with the trainer. This time Cibolo did pretty well, but Lily was worried and had a hard time. And that's with the trainer at the controls. 

Yesh. (Actually I loaded Cibolo myself.)

So the journey there continues. I'm taking the truck over there tomorrow, moving the trailer and loading them. Driving down the  road about 12 feet, then unloading and loading again. 

I desperately don't want to give up. But sometimes it's discouraging. With every horse it's something. And I'll take trailer loading over bucking. But it is getting tiresome. And like so many things, if we don't really have progress in the next month I know we'll be less likely to go places because the hassle factor will be high. 

I know they take their cue from me, potentially. Then again, I had a horse that loaded fine and I certainly didn't bring any anxiety to the party. But I think it's in the punch bowl. 

Anyway, I hope I read this a year from now and can say "wow. that was a pain. I'm glad that's over."

Maybe by the 25th they'll be ready to hit the road. Which would be good, 'cuz I'm trying to organize a trail ride on the 26th. 

Any takers?  No location set yet, Bandera maybe?

A trailer for two

Okay, enough politics. Onto the big news of the day.

We got two horses in our trailer today.

Fortunately it was the two horses we own.

I'd been waiting for our trainer to come back from her trip because I felt I needed all the help I could get. Over the last two weeks I'd gotten Lilly to the point that she wasn't bolting out and Cibolo was strolling in there like he owned the joint.

But I didn't really try to get the butt bar on let alone load them both. I still couldn't get Lilly to stay in place and didn't feel confident that I knew how to solve the problem.

So today was the day. Adam and I went together to meet the trainer. Adam has a good connection with Lilly and I was glad he was going to be on hand. As it turned out he took care of the bulk of the loading while I was merely a calming influence just outside the front window.

Our first step was to load Lilly. It took about three tries, but with rhythmic tapping on her butt (not hard, just rhythmic) she loaded and let us secure her in place. She had a nice grain reward once she was secure, and after a few more tries she unloaded about one or two gears slower from her previous bolt. Progress.

Then we loaded Cibolo. He was confused at first at being in the back area only, but then I could almost see the light bulb go off in his head. We shut the rear door and marveled that we had two horses in there.

But unloading Cibolo then Lilly seemed to increase Lilly's fear. She was back to bolting out.

We decided to try her in the rear. Initially when we were trying to deal with all this bolting weeks ago I'd suggested loading her in the rear. Sure, you'd have to get out of the way fast when you opened the door, but she couldn't really build up a head of steam either. She'd be out and not left alone in the trailer. But there was one significant hurdle - she couldn't seem to figure out how to get in the back section of the trailer.

We loaded Cibolo first and he was fine, although he leaned on the butt bar a bit. Loading Lilly in the back was challenging at first. It was as if she didn't think she'd fit. But with more tapping and soft words, she was in and stayed in calmly for the door to close.

The first couple times opening the door were something else and she even banged her leg once getting out. But by the end she came out somewhat quietly. Quiet for Lilly anyway. Okay, not so quiet but just a bit more slowly.

Cibolo comes out very quiet. Hopefully he can be a source of inspiration. (and hopefully he won't pick up her habit!)

It will take more time and practice, but I think we're through a hurdle. We're going to try to take them on a picnic at the lake tomorrow. I hope we don't end up having to walk them home!


Wound update: we have some proud flesh starting. I'm still cleaning it every day and putting on salve. Tips are welcome...

Lily wound, jumping in the trailer and finally, rain.

I knew we should declare it Saturday.

Lily has some sort of ... thing on her back. Stephanie, who loves horses and works in our office, had come over with Sierra. As she was petting Lily she noticed a swelling and a scab in the center of her back, just behind the wither. About the size of a matchbook.

The swelling was down below it and when she pushed on it a bit of pus came out.

We peeled back the scab, ran a cold water hose on it and the swelling went down.

Did I take pictures so I could get a blogger diagnosis? No. I'll take some in the morning when I go check on her and run the water on it.

I don't know if it's a bite, it looks a little more like a scrape, but a pretty nasty one. It's in the area where horses tend to groom one another, so I don't know if it could be that.

I'm hoping its not Cibolo. Otherwise we are going to have a problem...


Cibolo is now leaping into the trailer. He's like a parelli video.



And he'll hang out...




And back out calmly.





And it rained. Not much, but windshield wiper worthy. A nice break in what has been an oppressive summer...

Trailers, trails and horse hugs

Don't you just love the sign? And see the arrow on his head? I tell everyone that's his shipping instructions. This end up.





Today's trailer session with Cibolo went fairly well. He's not an easy loader (he has a bit of an excuse, he's six and his former trailer was much larger), so I want to work on this every day. We don't finish our day unless he loads in the trailer.

Same with Lily.

I got a jump start on the process with our trainer. I was getting Cibolo in the trailer, but not keeping him there long enough to get the butt bar on. But with the trainer at his tail and me at his head, we got it done.

Then we tried to load Lily next to him.

Yeah. Well, let's just say it's a work in progress. We did get her in. I bet she was in for a full second. Maybe two. I think I'll be on horse time with that one.

The trainer will be gone for 10 days and I plan on doing a one at a time loading every day I'm out there this week. The plan is to go on a trail ride this weekend, but it depends on how I progress. I know I can, eventually, get one horse in. But two? I may have to make two trips! LOL

Frankly I'm wishing I had a big roomy stock trailer. Somehow those seem easier. But this is a very nice trailer and I just need to work through it.


I took Bo out for our first mini trail ride. He has no shoes yet - the farrier had an encounter with a cutting horse and had to take the day off - so I limited my ride to a very grassy area. He did great going out on our own. Curious, willing, owwing in a few rocky spots. I rode in Sierra's saddle.

We weren't out long - we had already worked in the arena first and I did a short canter. The round pen is moved now, so I plan on doing more work there for both me and Bo. I gain a lot of confidence in a round pen, I'm not sure why.

Speaking of the arena, I set up the camera for a few pictures. We were terribly back lit, I don't know what I was thinking. But a funny thing happened. As I was waiting for the camera to click, he turned his head into me.




I reached over and held him and we both enjoyed the moment. The photos aren't very good, but the experience was... something else.

@$#% Trailer loading and unloading

Today was the day Lily went to the vet. I was a little nervous, of course, given her unloading issue, but I decided to think positive. Besides I'm very worried about her limping.

Sierra went with me and we got busy packing a few supplies. Grabbed cookies, alfalfa, brushes...

Then we had to figure out why we were getting shocked by the trailer (turns out it was touching the electric fence!). Hmm. I wonder if it's been doing that the whole time...

So once we solved that mystery, I put grain in her bucket, Lily got right in, I latched the butt bar and off we went!

Then at the vet she got right out, nice and calm.

Fixed, I thought to myself.

Yeah. Right. Proving once again that I am a moron.

Okay, a little harsh. But STILL.

Dr. Blevins, after doing another block (on the back of her leg instead of the front, just behind the coffin joint) and she went completely sound he recommended we try treating her with an injection designed to increase the lubricant around the coffin joint area mixed with a steroid.

He was quite thorough in his explanation, I'm just terrible at conveying it.

The next three days is stall rest and then in about 10 days we should know if it is working. If not, then we have to get more x-rays and such. Here she is getting her shot for the nerve block.



I came back at the end of the day to pick up Lily.

And Lily declined to load. For 45 minutes. Finally we had to whack her on the butt to get her to load, stay loaded and get the butt bar in place.

I've never had trouble loading her before, it was just the unloading. But here it was. She'd go in, then she'd back out. She'd go in and refuse to move over for the butt bar. She'd get her front feet in and just stand there. We tried light line lunging (the horse is supposed to be on stall rest. lunging seemed like not a good idea - at least not too much). Running her backwards. Pushing her out of the trailer before she decided to leave to show her who was in charge. Finally just whacks on the butt worked. But I think it set up what happened next.

Then, when we got back home I opened her window to give her some alfalfa, thinking it would give her something to focus on so she wouldn't bolt out. It seemed to help when we unloaded at the vet.

I went to open the butt bar and she pushed against it. I told her no and tapped her lightly with my hand to get her to move forward. Then I released the butt bar and encouraged her to come back.

She went forward. She stuck her head out the window. She kept her head out as if that was the exit.

I couldn't believe it. My bolter was suddenly flumoxed by where the exit was.

I went to the front of the trailer realizing that she was really actually freaked out even though she wasn't stomping or anything. It was like she couldn't think, was frozen, confused.

There she was, her head out the window, pushing against it as if she could get out through that tiny rectangle. As gentle as possible, but in a firm tone I said back. Nothing. I rubbed her face, tried to calm her down. Suddenly she pulled her head in, slamming it against the window and backed out - not in a full panic as she does, but quick.

She shook her head repeatedly as she stood just outside the trailer, moving her jaw in a weird sideways motion.

And I thought I just killed my horse. I killed the sweetest horse on the planet just because I opened the darn window...

She shook her head over and over, moved her jaw over and over. I moved her to the stall and she took a couple dizzy steps. She was definitely not happy with me as I put balm on her forehead. I felt terrible, knowing if I knew a little more I might have been able to prevent it.

Talk about one step forward and about 1/2 a mile back.

I'll be by in the morning to check on her. I told our trainer what happened and she assured me she'd survive this and that I didn't do anything wrong. I'm sure I could have done something better. But we agree on one thing.

We've got a whole lot of hauling to do.



PS: the saddle fits Bo! I was too traumatized to ride, but I did put it on him and take a quick turn in the arena...

Exit Stage Left

You know, I should have just bought one of these.

Yep. A front exit trailer.



I take it these are common in the UK...