Many Firsts

This has been a season of firsts.  I fell off E Z Dollar for the first time, we scheduled our first hunter pace, we lived through our first freak October snowstorm and the subsequent cancellation of our first hunter pace, EZ got his first laming injury, and recovered from said injury.

Mid-October was a pretty wet month, and riding through the woods down towards the lake we encountered a nice big sloppy puddly area.  Perfect water obstacle practice!  It is dark in the woods and always pretty spooky anyway, and this nice puddle was muddy, deep and dark and filled with floating sticks.  EZ did not love it.  We walked through part of it to dry land, then ventured back in.  EZ caught sight of a board floating near his left front and did a gymnastic hop through the air away from it, and I ungracefully parted ways with him. Pro of being in the mini lake: soft!  Con: very wet.  EZ scuttled to dry land and then stood there nervously.  He seemed a bit ashamed.  I clambered back on and we hauled back and fort through the wetness some more.  It really was the perfect experience of a fall--he reacted in the best possible way, without getting freaked or sassy, just was sort of like, whoops, sorry, won't let it happen again.

This could have been me.  But don't worry, it wasn't.

Then we were off to getting fit for the hunter pace that KC invited us to go along to.  I bought royal blue stuff so we'd be matching and everything.  Would've been adorable!  I was worried about getting him in shape enough--the length of a pace is certainly farther and more strenuous than the ringwork we had been doing.  Cathleen chaperoned us across the brook to the hayfields on the other side, and we both realized it was the perfect place to exercise.  I was so proud of EZ going across the brook like a pro all by himself the next day.

Brook crossing, as demonstrated by Steve and Donovan last spring.  It's sorta higher now.

Finding the time to get a good ride in was hard though.  Coaching field hockey meant my afternoons were taken, and I have early morning classes.  A few times I showed up at Indian Pond Farm before the sun rose and we headed off to the fields just as it was making an appearance.  I had a minorly embarrassing display of emotion during faculty meetings when it was suggested we needed to spend more time during duty on the weekends, as I was sensitive of trying to find time to get off campus and ride.

Fall hay fields modeled by Kathleen and Donovan during her recent appearance

And in the end, it was all for naught, unfortunately.  October 30th, luckily right at the end of the school Halloween dance I was chaperoning, the power went out due to the extreme amounts of snow we received.  All in all our area got 20 inches and was without power (and school!) for 3 days.  The damage to trees and trails meant that the hunter pace was canceled, and with it our opportunity for getting out this season.  Now we'll have to wait until next spring!

View from my apartment window the morning after the storm

A few weeks later  I went home at around lunchtime on an unseasonably warm Wednesday to ride before our field hockey game.  When I went to get EZ from the field I thought something was wrong immediately.  He just seemed weird.  He was sweaty and downtrodden seeming, but I thought it was probably just the warm weather after growing out his winter coat.  I tied him up in the barn and stood studying his heavy breathing.  I unclipped him quickly and brought him down to the house, where Philippa and John were having lunch--I wanted to catch them before they left and get a second opinion if they thought he was acting weirdly.
John took a look at his breathing and sweaty self and agreed that most likely it was just the weather; probably he'd be ok with a light ride, we could see how it went.  But as I turned to walk him away John said, "You know he has a big cut on his right hind, right?"  Nope, no, I did not know that.  John took a look at it and pulled out the remnants of a barb from a wire.  Ouch.  I cleaned it up, and it was pretty gross.  One deep slash on the back of his fetlock, near the bulb of his heal, sourrounded by more superficial scrapes.  His leg was slightly swollen about halfway up and he wasn't putting full weight on it.  It didn't seem infected though, so we agreed that a regiment of cleaning and antibiotics would clear it up.

I found some SMZs belonging to Cathleen to feed him, and knew it wouldn't be a problem to get him to take them in grain--dude is pretty food obsessed.  He was anxious during the cleaning process, being away from the rest of the herd, and when I finished he absolutely jetted off, carrying his injured leg aloft.  The whole thing was a bummer, but on the scale of injuries, a pretty lucky one--shouldn't be any lasting damage.

We realized that the antibiotics had expired years ago, and I called the vet to see if we could get some more.  After describing the injury she thought it best to come out and check it out.  Only the best for EZ boy.  Of course though, it was the day of our last field hockey practice and team dinner.  I hated missing it.

Field Hockey Practice, when it was warmer.

While waiting for the vet to arrive I did a search of the field and found the offending string of barbed wire.  The old cow fence was obstructed by brush, except up at the very corner, where brush had been removed to separate the old pasture.  Of course, EZ had found it.  I found bits of his hair on the wire, and even where the missing barb came from, and immediately alerted Mr. Dad Fix It.  The vet concurred with our current treatment plan and gave us fresh SMZs and jumped back in her car to get away from the cold as soon as possible.

Two weeks later, I was concerned that the thing was still not better.  It was no longer swollen, it didn't look infected, it just looked like it had not closed at all.  It was in an awkward place, constantly flexing when he moved, so I didn't want to ride him until it looked better, and I wanted it to look better!  I called Ronan and asked if he would take a look at it when he came to pick up Aiofe from mom. I sent him a picture of the wound and he came that afternoon armed with all the supplies.  After a thorough cleaning he applied a topical penicillin cream and wrapped it, and recommended putting him back on SMZs for another week.

Not for the faint of heart, right?  Kinda gross.

 

Even with a poop ball for scale!

Two days later the improvement was amazing--fresh, pink healthy skin was already appearing.  It was really interesting what a difference the new treatment plan had.  Ronan had told me that if it looked like proud flesh was developing, to add a paste of aspirin, so I incorporated it into the routine.  It was becoming quite the process!  I wanted to send a picture of the nearly healed wound to Ronan as proof of the healing, but it was Thanksgiving, and that seemed like it might be a little offputting to the eating of the turkey, as appropriate as it would've been, seeing as how thankful for it I was.

Much improved!

I rode EZ the next day, and he seemed happy to be back in work, and the perfect gentleman.  He even gave a pony ride to my 9 year old niece afterward.  When she left following the holiday she instructed me to let me know when he was all healed up, as she as acted as my apprentice in the complicated healing process--stirring the SMZs into the food and reminding me not to forget the aspirin.

Medicine mixer: All action shots courtesy of Kath

Doctoring it up

Dad took up Project Remove All Barbed Wire with a vengeance, and I sort of helped him a few days over Thanksgiving break.  It's all officially out! (Except for a tiny section impossible to reach until we--the royal we--pull out some bushes)

Mr Fix It strikes again, hauling out old wire and poles.

Now that fall has drifted away it's time to make some winter plans!

Back from the Ranch

I've been that way, back, for quite a while.  And it's been a whirl of often agitated activity: leaping aboard E Z Dollar with delight, saying hello to my parents too, moving into a new apartment, dreading classes, starting classes, planning classes, failing to grade classes' work, trying to socialize, losing my cat, fighting for hot water in my new apartment, you know, just the usual.  While doing all of that I was pretty consistently doing my best not to miss Bitterroot Ranch.

"So what.....Are you going to go to Wyoming forever?"

"Yeah."

This is a conversation my mother and I had over email a few days ago, after I sent her a link to an adoptable dog I wanted to get since my cat is missing and I apparently need a housepet to feel complete, but know that I can't actually get because I am too busy, and what would I do with him in the summer when I go to the ranch?

I can't guarantee that I will go to Wyoming forever, and there are certain elements that make continuing to go somewhat irrational (that I miss out on E Z Showing and Riding Time high among them), but...it gets in your blood.

Photo by Tre Cassetta

There is no doubt that I missed the Dollar.  But there are SO MANY horses out there.  Everywhere you look, horses.  Horses running by you, horses coming to sniff you, horses beside you and underneath you.  So, I was comforted from not having my very own racehorse.  Instead, I had my ranch horses--those wrangler horses you work with, coax past insecurities and are impressed by when they are bolder than you give them credit for.  Due to the kind care of Hadley, the Super Wrangler, my mounts are very rarely the babiest of the learners, or the squirrelliest of the unreliable.  I would never claim to be a trainer, and nor would I claim to be a particularly brave rider, so my favorites are those who have had a few years under saddle and have been already pretty well figured out by the Super Rider herself.
Like Wajir.

Wajie has had more than a few years under saddle, but some squirrellyness still remains.  She is super round, I always crack some joke about her skinny jeans not fitting after her pregnancies, and also still a bit jumptastic.  Like spooking hugely and surprisingly at a thistle.  It's charming.  But she also has the smoothest gaits, the most speedy but ratable canter, and knows her job.  She has a hard little eye, and threatens to pull back every time you tack, making it very clear that she never, ever, wants a lunch pack put on her back, but I would ride her every day out there if I could.  One day moving cows I dismounted to chase them out of a highly wooded and steep ravine, and rather than pull her along as I tried to chase them out I put the reins over the horn and let her follow me.  As we squeezed our way under brush and back out into the open I looked behind me to see her cute little badger face following along obediently, head down to duck the branches, to halt when I stopped and wait to let me remount.


Then there's Kitui.  A younger lil dude who is unpredictable in line, but also knows his job in the front.  Nervous and often startling in the woods, he would nevertheless go anywhere after cows.  A favorite moment of mine was an epic transfer of 16 cows from the bottom of one pasture to another, an occurrence we weren't expecting, so had neither the best cow horses or the most avid riders, and took a full three and a half hour with what felt like Kitui doing all the work, but a beautiful, willing, independent, and totally fun, long canter at the end to reach and open the gate.  Every time a guest offered to take a picture of me on a ride, and I wasn't too embarrassed to say yes, I was riding Kitui, so somewhere out there guests have majestic photos of us on mountaintops and at Butch Cassidy's hideout, but they aren't sharing.  So you'll have to trust me when I say he is the cutest.  Dapple gray with black mane and tail and and black tipped ears, guests would never fail to comment on his good looks (which is maybe why they're holding on the all the photos?).

Update: Here's Kitui! (Thanks Danielle!)

Alicante is a favorite of many.

Can you tell we had a photo-shoot on the bench?

One of what we call the Trios, he is the product of a Thoroughbred-Andalusian sire and an Arabian dam.  As well as being handsome, he is a charmer.  He is probably the most talkative of the herd, nickering constantly if you pass him in the corral and pretty much the whole time he is tied and being tacked.  Not immune to the occasional tantrum, he is still learning, but rarely nasty.  I was glad to have him the day I was riding with a woman and her three young children, and the mother lost conciousness and suffered a seizure while riding.
While trying to keep her stable, her children calm and the horses cooperative, Alicante was the least of my worries, and he willingly left the group to get some help as quickly as we could.  He and some of his half-siblings form a giant, curious gang in the corral, curious and always searching for attention, and probably more so, oaties.


These trusty steeds and many more were my partners for two rides a day, taking guests of varying levels of skill through a variety of trails.  To be aware of them, the guests, the guest-horses, the trail, the cows, be charming to make sure everyone's having a good time and also behaving themselves--it's not always an easy job.  Sometimes it is, and sometimes it is pure pleasure, and you can appreciate how lucky you are to be doing exactly what you are doing.

Because as well as the horses themselves, there's the place that we live in.  And you know you've got it good...

When this the view you outside your cabin...

Photo by Katie Cassetta

and this is your weekend swimming hole...

Photo by Tre 

and this is the first thing you do when you wake up.

There's no doubt that it's a unique and inspiring place.  The minute I get there and am surrounded by the open land, the dry sage and the red mountains, I just feel my heart expanding.  That's not a scientific definition, because that might be worrying, but it's a sense of awe and possibility.

And lastly, and perhaps most importantly, there are the people.

Photo by Katie

The job would be unimaginabley difficult, and way less fun, without the wranglers I work with.  As long as they continue to return, I will find it hard to not do so with them.  I have an affinity with them born of our shared love of the place and the work that we do there that I am lucky to have.

Photo by Tre

The few months I am able to spend on the ranch are often grueling, uncomfortable and difficult.  But out of those experiences there is also a sense of accomplishment, of recognizing your capabilities and seeing the results of your work.  And in addition to those moments there are others of unfettered freedom, adventure, beauty, and possibility.

Separation Anxiety

I almost burst into tears today when a  dramatic and emotional song came on my iPod while I was  thinking about leaving E Z Dollar for the summer.  There was a dangerous welling of the eyes.  I think I suffer from a guilt complex anyway, I very often tend in that direction.  It's a Catholic thing.  Even though I'm not Catholic.  I was able to pull myself together, though, and realize I was being ridiculous.

My flight for Dubois leaves at 6am tomorrow morning, which puts dad's and my departure time from the house at 3:30am.  Good thing I can sleep in the car! (Love you, dad!)
This meant that today was my last day of E Z Dollarlove time.  Unfortunately, this morning he looked a little ouchie on his feetsies, I think as a result of his farrier visit yesterday.  I did ride him yesterday after his trim, which might have compounded the soreness (Sorry, Dollar!) but I am glad I got a last good ride in.  It makes me nervous to leave him when he's not in tip-top shape, but I'm 99.5% sure it's just trimming tenderness and I know he's in good hands.  Cathleen will be here daily, as usual, to do the normal chores, and mama and papa are always around, and I contracted Renee, who is home from her first year at UNH studying Equine Science, to ride him once a week, to remind him he is a horse and not a wild thing.  See how I have to rationalize things so I don't feel like a negligent parent?

Anyway, that meant that today was just a straight love fest.  A spa day.  It's pretty warm out so he didn't mind the grooming like he  usually does.  And of course, we had entertainment.  Like Donker, eating the tack box.

Delicious.

"Who, me?"

"But I'm just an innocent little Donkey..."

It is one of my favorite things to do, to harass Donker.  Because he is so harassable, as well as harassing.

E Z is long suffering of the shenanigans, as well as appearing somewhat skeptical.

He is so jaded to the cuteness of it all that he mostly just tried to nap.

Don't you love his new halter?

It's a nod to our Western heritage.  A Western heritage which is entirely faux, but I keep trying, nontheless.  On a somewhat related note, if/when we event again, what should our colors be?  Ponder that one.

Most of my time was spent in this position, hugging him fervently and sobbing apologetically into his neck that I was sorry I was leaving him for so long.  Neither he nor Donker seemed to care all that much.

When I was done with the goodbye shnuggles E Z didn't quite seem to believe that I was truly done with him.  He was sure there was going to be more of something.

"Now what?"

 Let's get a close-up of that sleepy, grass-flecked, hanging lower lip.

 I think it looks like a puffer fish.

 It looks like it was a long night, EZpie.

No, you're right, I'm sorry.  You're beautiful.  So beautiful.  The most beautiful.

Let's try to get a full body shot of all that beauty.

His summertime hairdo includes what almost looks like darling little dapples.  So cute.

 Not one to stand around and model for any length of time, it was off to the hill with Donkerpoo to eat some nommy grass.

 With this little guy, who must be their friend because he was unabashedly not shy at all.


 As it was obvious that everyone had had enough of me (except maybe the bunbun), I whispered some more sweet nothings in EZ's direction before heading out, where I encountered this lovely visage.

She had actually been laying with her cute little legs all sprawled, but hurried into a treat-eating-readiness position at my approach.  So of course, I obliged her.

Now it's off to the Wyoming wilds to spend some weeks with the Bitterroot herd.  I know I will love them, and I know I will love the Indian Pond Farm herd when I return.  Love them hard.

A Successful Outing

This is my new favorite picture of E Z and me.

For several reasons:

1) Look how shiny!

2) Isn't his tail so cute, laying on the grass like that?

3) Our green accessories are creating a trend. Like the grass.

4) Speaking of grass, check out that sneaky nom.

5) Donovan's ears are so cute.  Love ear pictures.

6) This is one of my favorite spots on the farm.  Such a pretty view, but not all that EZily accessible.

Photo credit goes to Steve, who came with Cathleen and I on a ride yesterday.  Here they are:

Adorableness abounds.

We were all over the group shots.  Here's Cathleen and I:

The sky looks so fancy.

And once we got back home, Donovan traded Steve for Mamalyn, to try out the new Western saddle and also to get all the Indian Pond Farm women together for yet another group shot.

Adorable.  And Donovan is the only non-sneaky-nommer.

The other exciting thing about this ride, in addition to the great group shots, was the river crossing.
E Z and I have been working on puddles and other bodies of water for awhile now.  He doesn't love them.  And we always get through the puddles and by the end of the ride he is fine with them, but we often have to start over again the next day.

And to get to that pretty view point, we have to cross a stream.  A stream that was pretty high for quite some time, because of the beaver population.  But the beavers all mysteriously disappeared; let's assume they went to a better place.  And now the river is nice and low.  But E Z still was not a fan.  He wouldn't go near it.  I walked him in and really only succeeded in testing out my waterproof boots (legitimately waterproof!).  We worked on going to the edge and just standing.  Then taking a single step forward, then just standing.  Then turning around when I asked.  I thought this would be a very long project.






But, I underestimated the momentum of the group.  With Dutchboy and Donovan both willing river crossers, E Z needed only a little encouragement and followed right along.








I didn't get a shot of us actually in the river, so you'll just have to take this as evidence enough.

We did it!

All in all, a successful outing!

Back to the Herd

Starting with our Big Day Out at Kent, it did not stop raining for a week.  My reaction was, bring it.  I had no more cross country courses to run, EZ was going to have a few days off, it could rain to its heart content.  Not riding during this rainy season meant that I did not unload my car of its tack contents for many days.  Here it is in all its glory:

This is even after I had removed most of my show attire.  Little Eva the Dodge did her job well, keeping me dry as I changed all my and EZ's gear.  I must admit, I felt pretty hardcore trucking all that stuff around, like I had reached some coveted level of horse-ownership.  The level of hauling around a lot of stuff, I guess.

Once it finally did stop raining, on my drive over one morning I was able to catch this lovely view of the misty surroundings.

Purdy.

Driving over today, right around in this same spot I found myself behind a truck, and I spent a long time squinting at the contents of its bed, trying to figure out what the heck kind of dog they had in there.

Once we pulled to a stop, the reason behind the difficulty of dog identification became clear, since it was not, in fact, canine at all.  He was totally digging the ride though.

Back at Indian Pond Farm I checked out the herd members.

First and foremost:

Donker appears quite content, so let's all breathe a sigh of relief.

Off in the distance the Big Ds seemed to be quite satisfied with life as well.

EZ came harumphing over, I think the flies were bugging him and he was harboring a hope that I would have some sort of relief for him.  And noms.

As luck would have it we went for a bit of a nom ride, through a high grass field.

 

It's a really lovely field to look at, it's flat and borders the brook and has nice lush grass.  It is situated in such a way though that it is always very soggy, and although I occasionally check it out, hoping it will be miraculously dry, it is always squelching underfoot, and the bugs are particularly relentless.

 

EZ didn't even seem to notice  though for the time we were there, as he was delighted that in the tall grass he could munch while walking.  Genius!

Part of what we ended up doing today was simply walking back and forth down this laneway.  You can see that is dotted with mud puddles.  EZ's favorite!  I think it's not the water so much that he finds creepy, but the mud sliding around, although he did do fine in the squelchy field.  So, walk back and forth we did, and succeeded in getting straight and relaxed and plowing through with nary a pause.  Eventually.  I know it will be a different beast in the trot/canter, but it the mud here is too slippery right now to try that.

EZ was a bit put out after being pressured through puddles and we spent the rest of the ride just trotting up and down the corn field on the end, chilling out until we were sure there were no horse-eating monsters in residence.  There was a deer, however, that seemed suspicious.

 After surviving the puddles and cornfield and the especially scary hose, EZ finally was clean and cooled down, fed treats, and fly sprayed.  In such a situation there is only one thing left to do.