Living the Krazy Life

More Michigan adventures

2012-02-11T21:02:00.001-05:00

Today my new roommate (Jae) and I headed south back into Indiana to pick up a new addition to the colorful menagerie here on the farm. I have mentioned some of the critters here, but, until now, I didn't have pics to go with my comments. I will start today's post with some pictures of the animals residing on the property.

We'll start with the llama (Snickers) and his lovely lady ewes, since I've already mentioned them. Those girls look like they are gonna pop out some babies any day now, but we're still waiting!!

There are also quite a few ducks and chickens running around. The ducks come in a variety of colors, and there are even several Muscovies.

Hershey and Cadbury are the resident meat calves, although they have a long way to go until they are big enough for the dinner plate.

Coyote is Quimby's new bff. She doesn't care so much for the Chunk, but Chunky has lots of love for the puppies of the world.

And, of course, my ponies are right at home amongst all the other creatures.

So what else could we add to the bustling little farm to make it even more colorful? What, indeed! How about this fuzzy little face?

This cute little girl was a "free to a good home" pony-sized molly mule. She's still just a baby at about a year and a half old. The guys who had her seemed to think she was crazy and flighty. Watch this video and see if you think the same thing:

The new mule (we still need a name for her) caused quite a sensation in the neighborhood. Horses and calves couldn't figure out what this strange looking beast was.

Watch the fierce, wild mule on film! And please, leave a comment if you have any suggestions for this little devil's name. One last note... she is NOT mine, she's my roommate's. So far I've refrained from adding more to my own head count!

Remembering Dad

2012-02-10T21:27:00.000-05:00

A year ago today, I lost my father. It still feels surreal. There are times I'll be doing something, and a memory will pop in my head of my dad. Usually this happens when I'm driving.

I don't think you can ever truly get used to a loss like this. I still miss you, Dad.

Llama drama

2012-01-22T21:22:00.001-05:00

Today the ponies had a new resident move into their pen. He's black and hairy with a face only a mother could love. They immediately decided he was the ugliest horse they had ever seen, an offense to their refined equine sensibilities.

Snickers, of course, didn't enjoy being the butt of horse curiosity. He just wanted to return to his beloved ewes across the fence.

Snickers is a very accomplished whiner. If you've never heard a llama whine, you can consider yourself very fortunate. It's rather grating and extremely pathetic. As my roommate puts it, "He's the whiniest damn llama I've ever known."

Zeplin, Layla, and Jazzy converged upon poor Snickers as soon as we dragged him into their domain. I think he was convinced that they were a special breed of llama-eating horses. Zeplin especially wanted to know what he was about, even talking to him face-to-face in spite of Snickers's weak attempts at spitting at him in the cold winter air. Layla took offense that something so ugly wanted HER hay, so she pinned her ears back and charged at him whenever he got close.

When I fed the ponies their evening grain, Snickers was able to take a few minutes while they were distracted to grab a couple mouthfuls of hay. Then it was back to running away from monstrous horses.

I guess we'll see tomorrow if any attitudes have changed overnight...

I've moved again!!

2012-01-19T23:37:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a long time since I updated my blog. I have a good reason, I assure you!! I was not content with the job I had in Indiana. The problem was, it was just that--a job. I wanted a career. I did not enjoy being stressed out on a daily basis and frustrated with my work. So, as someone who doesn't just bitch about something and do nothing to correct the situation, I looked for a new job.

And... here I am! I am now in Michigan! Yes, I know, I moved to an even colder location, and in the dead of winter no less. I am committed to giving my new career a minimum of two years to see how things go with it. I know that no matter what, I will learn a lot from this new position.

Anyways, happy much belated New Year and best of luck in everything you do! I hope to post more often on how the kids and I are doing this year. Maybe I still have a reader or two...

The Drama Queen lives!

2011-09-19T23:40:00.001-04:00

The air was crisp and chill, the kind of fall day that energizes the soul and feeds your exhiliration. I took my pretty blue bike for a spin, having spurned her for well over a year now. How could I have forgotten the rush of freedom, the giddy sensation of speed at the flick of a wrist? Our time together was short, but it left me flushed with a joy in life I haven't felt in ages.

Partners once again with the Drama Queen!

My new blog!

2011-09-07T19:54:00.000-04:00

Don't worry (I know you were!), I will still be posting to this one! I just wanted to let my faithful readers know that I've decided to start another blog! No, this doesn't mean that my daylength expanded to include even more hours for endless rambling. I just wanted to keep from boring to tears those of you (the few of you who read this blog) who aren't interested in hearing me wax eloquent on my main obsession--the Arabian horse.
Appropriately enough, my new blog is called "Arabian Horse Obsession!" Be warned--that is exactly what it is :-) My friend Julie, of Reinbow Valley Farm, has agreed to co-author this project with me. We may not always agree on everything the other posts, but we will do our best to add as much dimension and breadth to the topic as we can.

Please excuse the rough appearance for now--it will get better as I have time to work on it more (as this one has, right???).

(*Ibn Al Hassan+/ - one of the many gorgeous Arabs I will be discussing in my new blog)

'Nipping out

2011-09-06T16:47:00.000-04:00

Friends don't let cats do the 'nip!

It's highly addictive and can be a "gateway" to more deviant behavior!

It can even lead to black outs, loss of consciousness, your cat acting like he is swimming on land, and your cat pretending to be a rug. Don't take a chance!!

Steer YOUR cats away from the dangerous substance that is catnip!!

Mid Night Ravin

2011-09-06T15:35:00.000-04:00

Previously, I mentioned my friend Jane had been looking for a new horse (preferably an Arabian gelding). She found Josh, but, unfortunately, he did not work out for her. So this Saturday it was back out on the road, this time to look at a black Arab gelding near Dayton, OH.

Mid Night Ravin, or Ravin, was advertised as a "Youth All Rounder" by his owner. He sounded like just the kind of Arab Jane was looking for; sound at 13 and not easily excited by things on the trail.

Our trip started out with a BANG, literally. While Jane had just purchased new tires for her truck, the trailer tires appeared to be in excellent shape, and she had checked the tire pressure prior to departing. Appearances can be quite deceiving! Heading South on I-75 in Ohio, one of the trailer tires blew.

As you can see from the picture, the tire wasn't just deflated--it was destroyed!! We limped off the interstate at the nearest exit and into a gas station. Several friendly people offered their assistance, including a motorcyclin' out-reach pastor and his biker wife.

We finally reached our destination (after first driving past the appropriate driveway). Ravin was in a stall, a demonstration of his "stable manners." He had a lovely, very typey Arab face without the over-exaggerated jibbah (bulge at the forehead) displayed by some genetic lines.

His rider, a young but very tall girl, saddled him and warmed him up in an all purpose English saddle. I noticed that the silly boy likes to stick out his tongue!

After the girl rode him, Jane introduced Ravin to her Western gear.

A couple pictures of Jane's "test ride" on the handsome boy:

As I said, Ravin likes to stick out his tongue!

Ravin's good friend, an Appaloosa gelding, happened to be hanging out in the stall next door.

Among others, there was also an elderly Arab mare in the barn who apparently was quite accomplished at snatching food away from unwary passers-by.

The very face of innocence!!

Afterward, Ravin received a bath, and Jane debated whether or not she should take this boy home. In the end, she decided to give him a try. We loaded him up in the trailer and took him back to her place. Czar knew right away something was up! He was sooo excited that Jane brought HIM home a pony!

I even managed to get a picture of him in the barn with his ears forward!!

You may recall how difficult a task that can be!

At the end of the afternoon, Ravin showed no difficulty at all with settling in to graze in his new, big pasture. As with most guys I know, the way to his heart must be through his stomach!

Miley's doppleganger

2011-09-03T23:42:00.001-04:00

I met this fellow today:

Look closely; that is NOT Phat Tiger. While I thought my blue-eyed, silver tabby-pointed siamese cross Chunka Lunka was fairly unique colored, it turns out there is ANOTHER cat out there with very similar coloring. But never fear, Miley...

There's not a cat alive who pulls off the Tiger 'Tude like you!

Zeplin

2011-09-01T13:36:00.000-04:00

My boy doesn't like me at all :-) (Notice how Jazzy is moving pretty quickly at first, then she decides that's a complete waste of her precious energy).

Working those furry butts

2011-08-19T10:45:00.001-04:00

Yesterday after work I headed south to where my ponies currently reside. I plan anything specifically; I just wanted to work both Layla and Zeplin. Weather in the mid 80s with moderate humidity was a definite improvement over the extended heat wave and high humidity of a couple weeks ago.

I took my time grooming each horse, using several brushes to dig out the grime and polish their sleek coats. Zeplin stretched out with a rapturous look on his silly face, urging me to ease the worst of his itches. Layla allowed my ministrations but did not relax until I started singing softly and applied the softest body brush along her long neck and back.

The late afternoon stretched into evening as I combed out knotted manes and tails. Layla's mane was impossible to untangle without any type of product, so I merely tidied what I could. Both were saddled and then worked individually.

I asked both Layla and Zeplin to canter a lot on the longeline. We were all a dripping, sweaty mess by the time we finished, but I had a chance to observe their gaits and attitudes.

Layla and I need plenty of time together to bond. Zeplin oozes confidence, but he still isn't sure he really wants to commit to serious effort or if he just wants to play. Mental maturity (if such a thing can be acheived by a gelding!) will help stabilize his goofy streak and cement our partnership. I'm certainly looking forward to endless hours riding my lovely Ay-rab mounts!

Here is some footage I took on my phone a different day when I longed Layla. I tried the same day to record some of Zep's session, but he required more attention and both hands to keep his silly feet moving.

Arab picket line

2011-08-12T17:40:00.000-04:00

Anyone feel like riding an Arab?

These lovely ponies are ready and waiting! Operators are standing by, so call now!!

A chip off the old block

2011-08-09T17:50:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, I posted about Josh, my friend Jane's new trail mount. While we were at the residence of his owner, Mike, we also met two of Josh's sons. Both geldings are out of SF Asmaru-Jabask, a double *Bask-bred mare.

I wasn't able to get a good picture of the younger brother, Lightning (Bint Lightning Safire). Here is the picture I have:

I did, however, get quite a few pictures of Fadjur (Joshuas Fadjur Bask) while Jane and Mike were messing with Josh. Fadjur wasn't keen on having Josh out of the barn.

"Where are you taking my dad?"

"What are you doing with him?"

"I do NOT approve of this!!!"

"Are you paying attention to me??!!"

"You humans are soooo heartless!"

You can watch the drama unfold right here (you can also see Josh, the grey, in this video):

Another new face

2011-08-08T18:37:00.001-04:00

I love to discuss the stories of the interesting horses I meet. Recently, i added another character to the list. His name is Shoguns Joshua Fadjur+ (Josh). For those of you unfamiliar with Arabian horse honors, the plus sign (+) behind his name indicates that he is a Legion of Merit recipient. In Josh's case, the points racked up at Arabian Horse Association-sanctioned events to earn this honor were all in endurance. This incredible gelding (former stallion) has knocked out over 4000 competetion miles!

Josh is retired from endurance now. I met him when my friend Jane and I visited his owner's place to look at the horses he had available for sale. Mike, the owner, first obtained Josh when he was a yearling. Mike trained him and competed with him for many years. Later on, Mike sold Josh to a lady in Colorado who competed in endurance. The situation did not work out, and the woman wanted Mike to take back Josh (whom she gelded before dropping him off in Iowa for Mike to get).

Jane has been looking for a new trail mount since she sold her Tennessee Walking Horse, Destie. Destie's stride was just too large for Jane's bad back, so she decided to try to find an easier ride.

Josh enjoyed being the center of attention, just like he had been back in his endurance days!

Josh had not been ridden in quite awhile, and he was excited to get out. First Mike, then Jane, then I each took a quick spin on him around the property.

Jane felt immediately comfortable on his stout back, and she informed us that his walk didn't jostle her back in the slightest.

There could just be something here!

Of course, Mike and Josh will always have a strong bond after years of training and competing together.

The only remaining concern was an issue of Josh's soundness. He sustained an injury that resulted in a chipped bone in his leg. Mike and Jane agreed to have a heavy (220+ lb) man put some miles on Josh over the weekend to see how he fared.

Today, Jane informed me that Josh passed his 10 mile "test" with flying colors. He's coming home with her!!! Congratulations, Jane!!

IDNNAC!!!

2011-08-04T19:08:00.001-04:00

I Do Not Need Another Cat!!!

As mentioned in a previous post, I already have three (formerly indoor) cats living at the barn where the horses are boarded. I also have one fat Chunka Lunka at the house. Do I need any more feline companions? Do I need any more mouths to feed?

Apparently, to the squatter pictured below, the answer to both questions is yes:

I don't remember the first time I saw her, but she grew bolder and bolder. She went from sneaking around the other cats to steal some food to brazenly hanging out at the barn all day and begging me at mealtimes. Now she never leaves! She follows me around, purring in a smug, self-satisfied fashion. I even saw her cozying up to Chyornee, my eldest cat!

Do I have **free meal ticket** stamped all over me?

A few horse pictures

2011-08-03T20:03:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to share a few July pictures. Not much to say, so enjoy!

Czar says...

2011-07-31T00:47:00.000-04:00

Don't take my friggin' picture!!!

Did you hear me? I said...

don't take...

my friggin' picture!!!

(Unless you are outside. Then just try to get my good side!)

Ok, that's enough!! What are you, paparazzi? I'm outta here!

Miss Insecure

2011-07-29T14:41:00.003-04:00

Poor Layla! She is soooo attached to her Spotted Boyfriend Wonder!! And I am horribly mean to remove him from the pasture and put him to work! What can she do? She is so lost without him!

I think that's the only thing that can actually take her mind off the horrible deprivation suffered by her starved belly (at least, in her mind she's constantly starving)!!

Chunka Lunka

2011-07-28T18:44:00.002-04:00

My roommate calls her "Phat Tiger." I have dubbed her "Chunka Lunka." Anyway you look at it, Miley is livin' large and lovin' life!

Latest horse pics

2011-07-27T10:35:00.000-04:00

I took the time last night when I was feeding the ponies to snap a few quick pictures with my cell phone.
I can't believe how mature my Zeplin looks now! So hard to grasp how far he's come from the gangly yearling colt I obtained four years ago!

Jazzy is a bit more difficult to photograph because the other two like to get in the way:

Another challenge is trying to take a picture of Layla without her head down to eat. She certainly doesn't miss a meal! No wonder she gets along so well with Jazzy... Ignore the sunbleaching and the dreadlocked mane.

By the way, in case you were wondering--my house didn't get flooded in Iowa, but I am still trying to figure out when I will get back there to clean everything back up and list it for sale. Things at work hardly ever seem to slow down! Very frustrating, because before I took my emergency trip out there, I had been trying since last October to find time to go.

RIP Molly Goat

2011-06-15T18:44:00.000-04:00

I won't go into lots of detail about everything that occurred. It's a very long, disturbing story about a worthless scumbag of a neighbor. The short of it is that this abhorrent lowlife deliberately shot and killed Molly the goat (I think out of malice and spite). She never harmed him in any way, shape, or form. The saddest part of the story is that this despicable loser has two children, and this is the kind of example he is setting for them.

Some people should be sterilized for the betterment of society.

Following the flood day 2

2011-06-07T01:38:00.000-04:00

It's really late (or early, depending on how you look at it), so I am going to keep this brief. I spent most of the day on the phone, rallying the troops I do have available and formulating a plan. It's crude, it's ghetto, but it may possible save my house.

I am just going to post some pics showing the progress of the water. These are a bit dark and blurry, since I didn't make it back by my house until the sun had already set, and I am using the phone camera.

Next to the dike:

Looking toward my house:

The private lane:

Tomorrow will be a day of hard physical labor, but I will try to post when I return to Omaha.

Missouri River dams

2011-06-06T07:53:00.000-04:00

It's a bit confusing to try to follow information about what is going on upstream from my house. I always prefer to have a visual, so I "borrowed" this picture from Wikipedia to show the location of the six major dams affecting water levels near my house:

All of these dams will be releasing unprecedented volumes of water by mid-June. To give you an example, I will use Gavins Point, as it is the lowest dam along the river system upstream from me. According to the Army Corps of Engineers website, the record volume of water released by this dam was 70,000 cfs (cubic feet per second) in 1997. On June 4 (2 days ago), the volume going through the spillway was 92,900 cfs. This will be increased to 150,000 cfs by the middle of the month, and that volume will be sustained for the rest of the summer. As you can see, that is more than twice the maximum volume ever released by this dam (in operation since 1955).

How can a small dike just down the road possibly hold back something like that?

Following the flood

2011-06-06T01:18:00.001-04:00

I am back in Iowa for the first time since August. Unfortunately, it is not for recreational reasons. As mentioned in my last post, I am facing possible flooding around my house. I came back to monitor the situation, and to see what I could possibly do to protect my house.

I felt incredibly sick to my stomach as the plane banked for landing, and I saw some of the flooding that has already occurred around Omaha. The airport would be under water already if it weren't for the levee system in place.

My friend Julie picked me up at the airport, and we drove to where I had some stuff in storage. I was afraid the storage place would be under water, and I felt at least in the upstairs of my house had a chance of not being flooded. My mechanic picked up my motorcycle (the Drama Queen).

My house was not surrounded by water yet, but the ditch at the edge of my property already had several feet of water because the water table was so high.

Julie and I drove down the road to look at the dike, about a mile to a mile and a quarter away from my house. I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach when I saw the water already approaching the dike--the six dams upstream will be ramping up output daily to the tune of about 2 inches/day increase in water level until the highest output is reached (about 4 feet total). This water output will then be sustained until the end of the summer, so the water will not just crest and then dissipate. It will hang around until September or even as late as October.

Here is the water creeping closer to the dike:

This is standing next to the dike looking down the road toward my house:

There is a privately incorporated part of Nebraska on the Iowa side of the river on a lane off this road. This lane has flooded and those houses are completely submerged. Julie and I saw this pontoon boat and motor boat near the beginning of the lane, which the home owners are using to access their stuff:

All-in-all a very depressing day.

The only positive note, other than seeing a couple friends again, was when Julie and I stopped by to visit her ponies in their 40 acre pasture. They are all sleek and shiny (unlike my poor mud-caked ponies who have only had one five-day long respite from the rain and water all year).

So much to try to accomplish with time ticking down, so I will update as I can.

Stress

2011-06-03T20:49:00.003-04:00

There are a lot of things that have been stressing me out lately. Today I had another HUGE concern thrown into the potpourri of things that are shaving years of my life, potentially causing ulcers, and leading to lots of cravings for comfort foods.

At first I wasn't going to post this on my blog, but then I thought, "What the hell? This is my blog, and if I can't bitch and vent on my own blog, where can I?"

You don't have to read anymore if you really don't care to hear me whine.

Ok, those of you still reading, this is what my (as of yet unsold) house in IA may look like shortly:

Now, my house is not extremely close to the Missouri River. In fact, it is nearly 2 miles away from the closest bend in the river. There is even a dike between the river and my house.

Flooding in South Dakota has led the Army Corps of Engineers to release a lot more water from the dams upstream from the house. This is a map showing potential flooding around my house:

My house is in one of the purple areas (meaning it might get inundated with up to 2 ft of water). It's part of a "sacrificial" area that will be allowed to flood more than normal in order to save other, apparently more important areas. A mandatory evacuation has already been ordered.

To put this in perspective, the largest flood in the history of my house (built in 1900) occured in 1952. The water did reach my property and created a huge ditch, but it never reached the house or was even really close. Nothing like the projected flooding map I just showed.

This is the image I can't get out of my head:

Nearly six years of investment and personal sacrifice could be destroyed :-(

Speaking of babies...

2011-06-03T19:21:00.000-04:00

I posted Wednesday about a couple stallions I would love to use on Layla to get four-legged babies. Wednesday night I drove to Indianapolis, because my sister had been admitted to the hospital in order to induce labor. By late evening I had a new nephew!

Meet Owen Thompson:

That's his mom, my next older sister, holding his feet in the picture. I was lucky to catch him with his eyes open, because most of the time I was visiting he had them closed! Beautiful baby and look at all that HAIR!!!

While it may look like he has quite the set of lungs, he actually was very quiet, barely making a sound the entire time I was there.

I didn't get to see my two nieces meet their new brother, but my sister shared some pictures. Samantha was holding him. Nicole has the wildly curly hair (to match her personality).

Notice their cute matching blueberry dresses? My sister caught the sewing bug in the last month or so of her pregnancy and made her girls many new dresses, including these.

Ok, one more picture to leave you with a smile. We all could use one!

Layla's future beaus?

2011-06-01T12:17:00.000-04:00

I am in a relatively good mood right now because we've had TWO WHOLE DAYS without rain in a row!! I can't remember the last time I have seen so much sun! Certainly not this year...

Anyway, I have been dreaming again about the time I am free to breed Layla (hopefully before she is too old). Ultimately, I'd like to have a small Arab herd, primarily black, that look like what I consider the classic Arab and have the wonderful temperament I've come to know and love from my own experience with Arabs.

For those unfamiliar with the Arabian breed, here is a painting by Gladys Brown Edwards (a noted scholar of Arabians) of the breed standard. This is what I want, only in more shades than just grey:

Other artists have depicted what I consider the classic Arabian look. Here is an unfinished painting of a grey war horse by Antoine-Jean Gros:

I love the expressive, wedge-shaped face, the tiny ears, powerful hindquarter, and thick mane and tail.

My friend Julie's favorite depiction of a classic Arab is in this painting of Eustachy Sanguszko by Juliusz Kossak:

Not a happy-looking horse, but unmistakeably Arabian!

Now that you have an idea of what a classic Arabian should look like, I will present two stallions I am seriously considering as sires for the two fillies I want from my Layla.

I am not barn blind; I know Layla has some short-comings that I'm confident these two stallions can correct in her offspring. She has a longer back than I like, she is slightly toed-in, and her tail carriage could use improvement. However, these aren't insurmountable flaws. She has a lot of nice things about her or I wouldn't consider breeding her at all. She has a lovely face, a long, pretty neck, good straight legs, and a nice motor (hindquarters). She's a solid trail horse with an agreeable temperament, although she's the bottom of the pecking order wherever she goes.

Originally, I wouldn't even fathom the idea of using a grey stallion on Layla. Absolutely not! Grey is so dominant, and I didn't want to only have grey horses to show for my carefully designed breeding program. Black, on the other hand, is not as common, but it has also proven extremely difficult to find quality in black stallions.

*Warning* If you aren't as fascinated by Arabian bloodlines as I am, this next part may be a little dull for you :-)

I read a story earlier this year about two older stallions, stallions with incredible American foundation bloodlines that I absolutely love. Because of the age of these boys, they have some legends very close in their pedigrees. Here is the story from the Jan 2010 Arabian Horse Times about Gai Trillo++ and Kings Trillomar. Gai Trillo++ is a son of the elegant Ferzon, who appears several times in my Spotted Boy Wonder's pedigree (although much farther back). Kings Trillomar is by Gai Trillo++ and out of a double Azraff mare, Rose of Azraff. The Ferzon/Azraff cross has proven highly successful and led to many gorgeous horses. These bloodlines have become more diluted over the years with crosses to other popular lines that I think are nice enough--but too common and without the "look" I really want in my ponies.

So, to cut short my rambling (I could go on and on, believe me!), I recently found out that Kings Trillomar, now owned by NN Elite Arabians in TX, has been tested and found to be fertile at the ripe old age of 29! As much as I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE these old bloodlines and the classic look they produce, I fervently hope I can get a filly from my cool black mare and this awesome old-type stallion. Beauty, temperament, versatility, soundness, and longevity--what more could I ask for?

He made me consider a grey stallion after all!

On to the black stallion...

I have searched and searched for a black stallion who would improve upon my mare and add a little extra "something" to the offspring. I haven't been pleased with what I've found in most black Arabs. While I could breed to a chestnut, bay or grey and hope for a black, I'd prefer a sure thing if I can find it. There are several popular black stallions out there, but they aren't to my taste (as much as I can judge from all the pictures and videos I've seen, anyway). There have been some notable black stallions who have passed now--Cass Ole+ (the original "Black" in "The Black Stallion"), El Mokhtar ("The Black Stallion Returns"), Darq+++, and Haziz Halim to name a few.

Aside from a lovely stud in Germany (Maheeb), I have been disappointed with my search. I am not importing semen from overseas! At last, though, I found a boy I am cautiously optimistic will cross well with my Layla and give me the type I want. I am only going from pictures right now, but I'm liking his pics and those of his offspring that I've seen.

Meet Ali Ajimm, currently at Wojchik Arabians in WI but listed for sale. Ali comes from a long line of beautiful Straight Egyptian Arabians and is double-bred Ruminaja Ali (his parents were both sired by this legendary stallion). I won't delve farther into his pedigree right now, much as I want to :-)

His face is so expressive!!

Ok *sigh*, back to reality. Thanks for sharing my dream :-)

Arabs in need in IN

2011-05-29T22:17:00.000-04:00

I know I don't have a lot of readers, especially after months of absenteeism, but perhaps the few I have can spread the word on a herd of Arabs needing new homes in Indiana. This is the information I received from a trail riding group. Please pass this on and help these ponies out!

Indiana - Arabs in need of new homes ASAP

Tex is a 3 year old rose grey stallion, halter broke and gentle but he needs his feet trimmed BAD at this point.

Rebel is a 5 year old bay stallion, halter broke but skittish.

Lady is a 10 year old bay mare with a 23 day old baby stud colt. She is halter broke, friendly but the baby has not been handled.

Sammy is an 8 year old dapple grey gelding, halter broke and friendly but low on the pecking order so shy and bitten up bad.

Baby is an 11 year old bay mare that has had two fillies and is re-bred. Halter broke and friendly.

NikkiDo is a 7 year old bay mare that is bred for next Spring/Summer and is halter broke and friendly.

Autumn is a 6 year old bay mare that I am sure is bred too, halter broke and friendly but a little shy at first.

Shadow is a 6 year old bay gelding that has been ridden a little, halter broke and really friendly.

All these horses are purebred Arabians. They need new homes ASAP. They are standing in belly deep grass but all are thin with pot bellies so they need wormed and I assume most need their teeth floated. The lady that has these horses is from Texas and ended up here and is in over her head. She has belly deep grass but no fence to speak of and she has two young stallions that keep getting out. I need to help her place IN GOOD HOMES ONLY as she has raised most of them and she is an older lady so she thinks of them as her children. She has not had the money for shots either. This lady's heart is in the right place but she is in way over her head. She thinks of all of them as "her babies" so she wants good homes for them. With a little TLC, some handling and some vet and farrier work they would all make extremely nice riding horses. The mares have been allowed to run with the stallions until I separated them so all the mares are probably bred to the rose grey, Tex, because he is the dominant stud. The poor dapple grey took it tough from both the mares and the studs so he is pretty bitten up but still comes to you as soon as you go in the pen. I have no way to separate him or Shadow out from the mares so all he does is run from one end of the pen to the other to avoid the mares. Shadow has no problem with them.

The lady found a bunch of paperwork for me and I contacted the Arabian Horse Club and found out that they will run DNA tests (you pay for them of course) and the Arabians can be registered. The grey gelding is already registered as "Sam I Am" and has been DNA tested already. He has also been ridden and would not take much to refresh him. The other gelding "Shadow" can also be registered thru DNA and he has been saddled and worked with but not ridden. I picked up one of the mares last night and brought her to my house. She loaded with no problem what so ever and rode like a champ in the trailer. A little shy when she got off the trailer but settled right down and was led to her pen. I really believe that it would not take much at all to have all these horses going with a little work and TLC. Please contact:

Nikki Dorsey
pappydoodle@hotmail.com for more details.

To see pictures of them go here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1745903408035.2088390.1252279426&l=ef017dc282#

I am back

2011-05-29T22:11:00.000-04:00

I have been told by some good friends that they really miss reading my blog. Thanks, you guys, you are awesome :-) It's wonderful to have friends like that!

There hasn't been much to comment on the last few months. The weather has looked like this:

MARCH (flooding from snow melt and rain)

APRIL (more rain)

MAY (even more rain--does it ever end??)

After three months of rain and flooding, you can see from a couple of these pictures what my horses' pasture looks like. The ponies themselves cannot escape the mud. I am ready for more than just an afternoon at a time of sunshine!!!

Hopefully it dries up soon so I can put the kids back to work. In the meantime, enjoy the many pics of mud and rain I shall be posting.

At a loss

2011-02-16T15:42:00.001-05:00

Usually I try to be light-hearted in my blog, although I know I've previously posted about tragedy in my own life. I suffered another unexpected loss this past week, and I've been struggling to cope and come to terms with this sudden and abrupt end.

Last Thursday, February 10, my father passed away of what was most likely a heart attack. According to family members still living with my parents, he had felt poorly all week. The stubborn old man had refused to go to the hospital, but they had finally convinced him he should go on Thurs morning. He never woke up that morning.

This has been a great shock to everyone in the family. Dad's birthday is the 27th, and he was going to turn a young 68.

I won't go into a lot of the details of the weekend, but I do want to share a letter I wrote to Dad that I read at his funeral service.

Dear Dad,

I am struggling right now to find the words to express my thoughts. These last couple of days have been surreal – at any moment I keep expecting to hear your voice, to see you laughing.

From the start, your sense of humor shone through (even though I didn’t appreciate it until I was older). You named me after an old girlfriend. I resented being called the “baby” as I became more independent, but that’s what I always was to you. Your youngest daughter and “Baby Girl” forever.

When I was little, my favorite song was “Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys because I loved how you sang it to me in your deep (off-key) voice – especially the “Giddy-up oom poppa oom poppa mow mow”

Elvira, Elvira

My heart’s on fire

Elvira.

That was always our special song.

When I turned 16, you were the one who taught me how to drive. I think your patience had grown thin after performing this very service for six others prior to me. Who can forget the way you would bellow, “Slow Down!!!” if the speedometer crept even one mph over the speed limit? You were a stickler for driving the speed limit. I never understood how you could drive so slowly, listen to the boring Purdue classical music station, and yet remain awake and alert behind the wheel.

The older I got, the more common ground I found with you. You always were able to explain Calculus & Physics in a way I could follow if I got stuck on something in class. Aside from a strange sense of humor, we shared a love of science fiction (although I was never a Trekkie like you). When my friends in high school “introduced” me to Ray Bradbury and Frank Herbert, you pointed out that you had read those authors ages ago.

I know that you loved and were proud of all of us, even if you weren’t always able to express this. I am proud to have had you as my Dad.

Love,
Your Baby Girl

I assure you, I am still alive!

2011-02-06T17:15:00.000-05:00

Wow, I survived January! And what a crazy, insanely busy month it was! I have plenty to tell, but I lack the energy to type it all out at the moment. Suffice it to say that I am hoping against hope that February will be a bit more relaxed. I'm not holding my breath though--the first week was hectic and this coming week my company is hosting a meeting for some of the managers of all locations here in Indiana.

We have been slammed with several storms lately, as has most of the rest of the country. Last Tuesday brought an actual blizzard to the plains of Indiana. We buckled down under pounding snow and sleet, while further south they struggled through inches of ice and freezing rain. Driving to the place where my ponies currently reside, I encountered ice-coated roads like this:

Reports from nearby TV stations claim this to be one of the top five snowiest winters (Dec-Jan-Feb) since such records were kept.

The horses were none the worse for wear. They seemed resigned to weathering through the rest of what winter has to offer, as we have no other choice. So long as they have plenty of delicious grass hay, water, and grain, they ignore the challenges tossed out by a cantankerous Mother Nature.

The kittens remain in high spirits, enjoying the warmth of our cozy home and the company of my now unemployed roommate. Hancock (Hank) enjoys cleaning in the sink, while Murphy crashes after experiencing a catnip high. Blue came special delivery, FedEx.

That's my update for now. I think I've run out of steam and I need to get this office cleaned yet today. Stay warm and keep spring in your sites!

Welcome 2011!

2011-01-01T23:53:00.001-05:00

The year 2010 was full of turmoil and change for me. A year ago today, I could not have foreseen the twists and turns my life was about to take. I certainly never imagined that I would ever move back to Indiana (I'm still coming to grips with this). Yet there were some wonderful events to balance out some of the more devastating occurrences. I made new friends and acquired a gorgeous black Arabian mare I absolutely adore.

I was determined to start this new year out right. To that end, I decided I had to work with the ponies today. My best friend Julie sent me a saddle for Christmas (curse you, Julie, you shouldn't have spent so much on me!) because she knew that my dressage saddle no longer fit the horses. Here is the saddle, an Abetta Endurance (synthetic) with the Arabian tree:

The last couple of days, the weather finally warmed up enough to melt the snow that had been hanging around uninvited since the beginning of December. Of course this resulted in a soupy, swampy mess where the horse pasture used to be.

My poor ponies have to slop around in this, with few areas clear of any kind of clinging muck. I think Zeplin takes some kind of perverse pleasure in his filth.

My stinky boy wonder didn't want to slog his way into the barn so I could work with him (and try out the new saddle on him). Instead, I caught up my lovely black mare and brought her out of the barn into the rapidly cooling afternoon air. Man was she a mess!

It's difficult to see the mud against her dark coat from this cell phone pic, but trust me... it's there!! I quickly groomed as much of the dried mud out of her hair as I could with rapidly numbing fingers.

Better, but not perfect. Cursed Indiana mud season!

Next it was time for some longeing before I saddled her. She was acting a little nervous, and I wanted to find her brains through moving her feet. We still don't know each other well and have not had the chance to bond. I found through our primary session that she is lacking in some ground manners. She did listen good enough for today.

After reducing Layla's energy level a little, I worked some on desensitizing her. She was a bit jumpy when my rope gently coiled around her, especially her back feet. She has some scarring from previous rope burn, so that is understandable.

In spite of Layla's reputation for being difficult to cinch, I didn't have a problem with that today (knock on wood). Maybe she was too busy trying to snatch what few blades of grass she could reach. The new saddle fit handily!

Some more longeing, and we were ready to rock (although the sun was quickly setting)!

It was a brief ride, but definitely a bright start to a new year :-)

Late this year, but...

2010-12-19T00:55:00.000-05:00

...As the saying goes, "better late than never." I always send out a picture collage for Christmas to close friends and family. I showed last year's result in this post. I finally chose my design to use this year. Hopefully my cards will reach everyone before the new year. All of the pictures I used (except for the very nice Layla pic) can be found in the blog in one post or another. Enjoy!

Like it or not, winter is here...

2010-12-10T19:04:00.000-05:00

...And I fall into the not liking it category. While I'm not a huge fan of the state of Indiana, one thing I did look forward to was a milder winter than what comes with the territory in Iowa. After the four blizzards of last winter and the mental and emotional tolls of a long winter combined with the loss of a beautiful filly, I was completely ready to leave northern climates behind. Of course, I only made it as far south as Indiana.

Of course, this year had to be the year that temperatures dropped and it snowed sooner in Indiana than Iowa. Figures. I am so not ready for this!

Last week the first snows drifted down from the cloudy skies and refused to budge. They were joined by more a couple days later, and then a little more. Not a lot at a time, but enough to cause slick roads and cover hazardous black ice. The ponies didn't mind, and at least I got new tires on the work truck on Wednesday (Dec 1) when it all started.

Zeplin, of course, always has to be the first to come up to me when he sees me pull up at the barn.

How would I ever get by without this silly face to greet me every evening at feeding time? Speaking of feeding time...

...grain time is everyone's favorite time of day!! Well, except for mine, because I have to stand out in the cold waiting for them to finish so I can remove the feed bags.

We'll get by. We always do. Layla will make sure of it. Right, girl?

Mud ponies

2010-11-30T17:45:00.000-05:00

In the miserable depths of wet, cold Northern Indiana lurk three disheveled and hairy beasts. These fierce and dangerous creatures dwell within a slippery, slimey mess of deep black mud.

They may look harmless, but you are warned: do not approach!

Do not look them in the eyes!

They will get you!

I should know. They already got me!!!

Goat in the house!

2010-11-15T16:44:00.000-05:00

When I said my new roommate (Michael) is an animal person, I truly meant it. He was excited to have me bring the goat to the house. He had never been around goats (grew up a city boy) and wanted to learn more about them. I warned him about some of the peculiarities of my goat in particular. Such as how she would climb on the roof if possible. He thought she sounded pretty cool.

I brought Molly over on Saturday in the cold, dark and rainy early evening. My roommate had already fallen asleep when I arrived at the house, so I put Molly in the barn with hay, water and a ticked-off Quimby to keep her company in her new environment.

The next morning, dreary and frigid weather kept me in bed late. Finally, I dragged myself out from under the warm covers to let Quimby and the goat out of the barn. Michael had gone on his weekly Sunday morning breakfast run to McDonalds. I threw on a sweatshirt and some pajama bottoms and slipped outside into the grey chilliness of late fall.

Molly and Quimby burst through the door of the barn as soon as I flung it open. I didn't linger, as the cold was seeping through my inadequate clothing. Molly followed me back through the open garage door and up the two stairs to the "mud room." I left her outside while Quimby and I entered the house.

Michael arrived home not long after, surprised by a hairy beast with curved horns charging at him upon his entrance to the garage.

Michael's dogs and cats were instantly fascinated by this strange-looking dog with horns. He allowed Molly to come into the house (well aware that she was not house-trained) to check out her new surroundings. She stuck pretty close to me, at first. She guarded the kitchen from the unknown animals while I peeled apples to make an apple pie.

Eventually, Molly felt comfortable enough to lay down in the hall outside the kitchen entry. Occasionally, one or two of Michael's dogs would bark at her. The kittens were transfixed, as you can tell from this picture with three kittens staring at Molly standing on the landing of the stairs.

I headed out later in the afternoon to wash my laundry and check on the ponies. When I returned, well after the roommate's bedtime, Molly was laying outside the closed door to his room. I ushered her out the door and into the mud room, afraid she might try to climb into bed with me if I kept her inside the house. I didn't fancy the idea of my goat trying to squeeze enough space at the foot of the bed to sleep next to Quimby. There wouldn't be room left for me!

I'm sure I'll come home to a goat in the house many times this winter, as Michael doesn't like the idea of her getting cold out in the barn by herself. I don't care, as long as she doesn't try to sleep in my room and I'm not expected to clean up any mess! This should make for many interesting stories and photo opportunities...

Quimby's new pack

2010-11-14T18:49:00.001-05:00

I moved not long ago into a house in the country. My new landlord/roommate is a huge animal person. Along with a whole herd of cats (one of whom adopted me already), he has a pack of 5 dogs. Three are black lab/pit bull mix brothers rescued together. The other two are Amerian-bred dingoes, more rescues.

It did not take Quimby long to integrate into the pack. She loves other dogs, although she can be very bossy. She enjoys playing with the boys (only one of the other dogs is another female).

It also didn't take Quimbalina long to gain the affection of not one, not two, but THREE of her new pals. With three boyfriends, she gets plenty of action! At the end of the day, though, Quimby is the happiest pup in the world with her new family.

Three's company

2010-11-12T15:11:00.000-05:00

I think I called my new mare "Layla" in my last blog without mentioning that this would be her new name. Layla in Arabic means "dark beauty," and it's very appropriate for my lovely black Arab.

Last weekend, I allowed all of my ponies in together. Zeplin had already spent a week in the same pasture as Layla. Jazzy and Layla were acquainted over the fence. I wanted to make sure when I introduced them into one group that I had plenty of time to observe.

My troika of horses trotted all over the pasture together when I allowed Jazzy in with the others. I took some pictures and videos with my phone (since my regular camera is not yet fixed).

I was pleased to find no arguing when I threw them some hay. Layla is very submissive and will move to a different hay pile if another horse pushes her away. Zeplin sometimes moves her to prove his dominance, although he himself is quick to step out of Jazzy's way when those ears go back.

While Zeplin might push Layla away from his pile, Jazzy doesn't mind sharing her own hay with Layla. I think these two mares will bond very well.

Comet update

2010-11-12T14:39:00.000-05:00

Remember when I mentioned Zeplin's little brother Comet? I have been corresponding with the lady who raised him. She also had his mother for awhile, and she sent me baby pics of Comet next to his spotted mama. Comet and the related mare she also had for sale, Star, have found a new home. I thought I'd post some pictures their former owner sent to me.

Here is a picture of Zeplin's and Comet's mother, Lilac

Lilac's registered name is CR Lady Lilac. Lilac is 98.4% Arabian. She came from a Pintabian breeding program, and she has a full brother living in Canada (CR Royale Coppersin).
Here are some pictures of Lilac and Comet when Comet was a foal.

Comet's former owner also sent me a series of pictures of him checking out a cat on the fence. His expressions remind me so much of my own boy!

Jazzy time

2010-11-08T17:45:00.000-05:00

Sunday I was determined to work with chubby Miss Jazzy. She had lazed off the entire summer and most of the spring barely breaking a sweat. My new roommate, however, assures me that he wants to whip her into shape. That means that I need to get her to a place where a new rider can hop on in confidence. While he doesn't fear anything she might throw his way, I don't want him to be injured or to risk my mare through lack of preparation.

That meant that Jazzy needs to pack around my not-so-small ass on her rotund back to gain some experience.

I started with some easy groundwork to make sure she was listening. I saddled her and put her through her paces a second time. I found that when I tried to slide the leathers through the girth, I had difficulty stretching it across her ample chest. Porker.

I slipped the brass holders through the first hole in each side of the girth then tightened it from there. She hunched up, tucked her huge bum underneath her, and bounced a couple times at the canter when the saddle slid forward. While her bucks aren't particularly impressive, I'm not a particularly impressive rider myself and prefer not to test my own ability to remain seated through her tiny, half-hearted fits. I pushed the saddle back and tightened the girth a little more.

Then Jazzy and I took a walk down the road. I wish I had someone remaining behind to record Zeplin flying up and down the fenceline, hollering like his world had shattered. Layla trotted and huffed a bit, but poor Zep thought his herd had been ripped apart.

Jazzy behaved well on our walk, aside from some initial pushiness. That disappeared quickly when I informed her it wouldn't be tolerated. I had not intended to actually ride yet, but she seemed to be doing great. I decided I would hop on her back and see what she did. Before climbing aboard, I alerted the lady who owns the property that I would be attempting to ride Jazzy, and I wanted her to watch out to make sure I wasn't left bleeding and broken on the ground.

Jazzy stood perfectly for mounting, remembering her earlier training. I slid aboard easily. I felt her tense up, a powder keg of powerful Quarter Horse muscle. She had not been ridden since her April adventure with my friend Sudhir and his entourage. I had never ridden her outside of my round pen before.

I didn't push her hard at first, just circled her and tried to keep her feet moving so that she wouldn't worry. We stayed near the other ponies and walked around the small garden plot. Jazzy moved out nicely, albeit much slower than what I'm used to with the Arabs. I felt I had good enough steering and response to try to make a circuit of the hay field.

In spite of my apprehensions, Jazzy moved away from the other two horses without a backward glance. She moved at a steady pace, although she started a couple times when the wind whipped through the trees and brush separating the hay pasture from the neighboring farm land. I didn't have to nag her at all.

With Quimby dancing in front of us, Jazzy and I mosied to the back of the field . She became "stuck" briefly when something in the brush worried her (the downed tree maybe?). She nosed my foot, but I gently pressed against her sides with my legs to ask her forward while turning in the opposite direction. She considered blowing up, briefly, but decided it was too much work. She sighed, dropped her neck while chewing thoughtfully, and continued on toward the far end of the field.

My only goal for the ride was to get Jazzy to relax and steer. She did both, although she was clearly very stiff on the right side. I felt tremendously proud of my stout red mare. She remembered her manners and performed very well, even after vacationing for half a year between rides.

This girl is definitely going to be a reliable one for the roommate, nieces, and nephews!

Happy Anniversary, blog!

2010-11-03T12:21:00.001-04:00

It's been one year since I started this blog. Wow, how things have changed in that time span! I would never have predicted the course of the year's events. Some of the major changes:

- I never desired to live in Indiana ever again, yet here I am. Hopefully not forever, but I do like my new job so far and want to see where I can go with the company.

- Lost one beautiful half-Arab bay filly (R.I.P., Caly girl) and gained a gorgeous black purebred Arab mare.

- I did find a good job before I became unable to pay for my house, but I still have that lovely house for sale in Iowa (anyone? see video and pics).

- Survived the worst winter I can ever remember followed by one of the most miserable hot, humid summers ever. It doesn't seem to matter that my horses remained in Iowa all summer, since I wouldn't have been able to tolerate being outside long enough to ride anyways!

- Out of medical research and back into poultry. What can I say, you go where there are opportunities!

- Moved far away from wonderful old friends (miss you guys a lot!) but made new ones in the process (which did lead to acquisition of the aforementioned black mare).

- Have a non-family roommate for the first time ever (not counting the few months in Russia where I shared a room at the hostal with a prissy vegetarian). He seems pretty cool so far, and he's as much of an animal lover as I am. Hopefully it works out, and I continue to feel comfortable living there while balancing both a mortgage and rent. Quimby likes him!

Those are just some of the major changes. Lots of little things changed as well, some for the better and some not. I'll keep working on a brighter future and writing about my own experiences, past and present. Feel free to make "requests" of me if you would like for me to write about a specific topic.

Zeplin's new girlfriend

2010-11-01T17:33:00.000-04:00

She's here!!

Let me introduce you (or rather re-introduce, as she's already been mentioned here and here) to Starlite Duchess. This dark beauty is the latest addition to the family. I will go into more of her story later. Today is about introductions and the love of geldings for pretty mares. Well, ok, maybe just the love of one gelding in particular.

Zeplin couldn't keep his eyes off her from the moment she stepped off the trailer. Jazzy enjoyed meeting the new herd member as well.

Zeplin appeared determined to check her out thoroughly, even if it meant pushing through the fencing separating them. We decided to put him in with her to see what happened (under our supervision).

Zeplin quickly let her know who was in charge, but then they settled down to share some hay. I think my enlarged herd should work out well!

Addendum to Idaho part III

2010-11-01T15:02:00.000-04:00

In my rush to post the pretty pictures taken along the drive, I neglected to mention the worst part of the trek.

Our rental car reeked of gas.

Can you imagine spending 3 hours trapped in the small confines of a little Kia Sorrento choking on fumes of gasoline? Rolling down the windows did not help much and only led to complaints from the back passengers. We hoped the smell would disappate by the time we reached our destination, but it remained strong and whole for the entire duration of the trip. I felt nauseated.

The driver of the Explorer had arranged the rental from Budget. He called a branch located in Twin Falls (we planned to visit Shoshone Falls before heading to the hotel). The people at that branch were very nice and willing to help out in any way they could. I hopped into the Explorer and he drove the Sorrento over to the branch while the rest of us headed to Shoshone.

Long story short, he was unable to trade the vehicle for a new one because the people who owned the branch in SLC were uncooperative. The rest of the trip I did not ride in that car.

Stay tuned for lovely pics of Shoshone Falls.

Trip to Idaho for work, part III

2010-10-30T17:54:00.000-04:00

See here for part I and here for part II.

Warning: this whole post will basically be pictures. Not much to discuss about the drive itself. We got into the two cars. We drove for a few hours. We got out of the cars. Exciting story, right? So enjoy these pictures of Utah & Idaho countryside.

I do have to note that this was my favorite picture. You can see how small and insignificant the horses look against the rising expanse of the mountain behind.

So that was the drive. A very alien landscape to someone who grew up in the Midwest, but beautiful in its own right. I hope my pictures conveyed some of the variety of landscape.

To be continued...

Like chicken? Want a job in Indiana?

2010-10-30T17:30:00.000-04:00

I am what I call a "chickenologist." I work with poultry. Lately I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off because we need more people. We have two positions open, and the sooner they are filled the better for my sanity. So if you know of anyone with a B.S. in Animal/Poultry Science who wouldn't mind living in the great state of Indiana (cough, cough... oops, sorry, something in my throat...), send that individual my way. Please. ASAP. Before I collapse from sheer exhaustion.

Meet Miley

2010-10-20T17:15:00.000-04:00

No, not that Miley--this non-primate, very fuzzy Miley:

It's not like I didn't have enough cats already. Remember Chyornee,

Kit Kit,

and Koshka?

So did I really need another kitty? *Sigh* "These things do happen..." Welcome to the Krazy Family, Miley kitten (shown with brother Hancock).

Obtain your own Solid Boy Wonder?

2010-10-18T11:56:00.002-04:00

Let's face it. All of you (all one or two) who read this blog just LOVE my Spotted Boy Wonder. Admit it, because I know it's true. You also wish you could have this magnificent specimen in your very own barn yard. Tough luck, he's MINE, ALL MINE!!!! Bwahahahaha!!!!

But don't throw yourself into a pool full of sharp knives in despair just yet... you are in luck! You may not be able to have The Gelding himself, but you can have a piece of his genetics!! No, obviously he will never sire little SPWs of his own, but he does have a little brother out there somewhere in the farm fields of Nebraska!

Meet Comet, possibly a Solid Boy Wonder for you, my discerning reader:

Now, I know Comet doesn't have the flash and charisma possessed by my very own Zeplin, but he does display a determined sort of tolerance and steadfast patience for people who may mistake him for living room furniture. Here are a couple other pictures of this very sweet looking gelding:

In case you are seriously interested in this (possibly full) sibling to my spectacular Zeplin, here is the description from the Craigslist ad for Mr. Comet, unedited except for addition of emphasis to his parentage:

2007 Half Arabian Gelding

Ad Description : Comet is a wonderful young half arabain gelding, Chestnut color with Flaxen mane and tail. I have worked a bit on the ground with him. Very friendly horse. Stands for farrier and flyspray. Very curious and intellegent. Has never been saddled, but last week my daughter got on him, unsaddled, and he took her for a walk around the paddock, no problems. He is going to make the greatest project horse for someone. He is not registered, but comes from a very good breeding line, his mother was CR Lady Lilac.

You can see her pedigree here... http://www.allbreedpedigree.com/index.php?query_type=horse&h=CR+LADY+LILAC&g=5&cellpadding=0&small_font=1&l= Comet has not been registered.

We are near Raymond. I want him to have the best home that will train him and enjoy his wonderful personality.

Price : $500

Phone : xxx-xxx-xxxx cell xxx-xxx-xxxx home

I've removed the phone numbers for privacy reasons, but if the ad is still up, the phone numbers are on it. Raymond is not far from Lincoln. How awesome it would be to have Zep's little brother?!

*Sigh* If only my house would sell... I cannot take on any more mouths to feed until I'm freed from that financial burden. I already took on two more than I meant to (story later), but I was unable to resist. I hope Comet finds a wonderful home. I'm sure he's a treasure just like his big brother.

I also hope the mare these same people have advertised similarly finds a loving family. She is closely related to Zep (from the same breeding program). Her sire's sire, CR Royal Sands, is Zeplin's sire and damsire. Her dam's dam, MAF Gay Paree, is also the mother of Zeplin's dam. With all those shared genes, she most be the biggest sweetheart in the world.

So go forth and purchase a piece of the SBW's family for yourself! You will have your own amazing tales to share, and perhaps you will begin to understand how strong the bond can be between woman and horse.

You'll thank me for it ;-)

Trip to Idaho for work, part II

2010-10-02T17:01:00.001-04:00

See here for part I.

The Texans arrived in due time. We waited some more for our second rental car, which was supposed to be another nice Explorer.

Of course it wasn't.

It was a dark green Kia Sorento with a grey cloth interior still a bit dirty from previous use. Upon opening the driver's side door, strong gas fumes wafted out, making us nearly gag. My coworkers figured that whoever brought the car back must have stepped in some spilled fuel before parking the car. We had already waited in line quite awhile to get this vehicle, and we needed to head out for Idaho, since the drive to our meeting location took three hours.

Driving into Salt Lake City, we passed a bomb squad and many police cars surrounding an apartment building.

We continued driving through downtown SLC towards Temple Square.

Despite all the construction going on, we did manage to find some on street parking, and we walked through Temple Square to meet up with the first group by the Mormon Temple.

After our quick walk through tour of Temple Square, we loaded back into our cars and headed out towards Idaho. On the way out of SLC, I noted some large homes built on the tops of the surrounding foothills. It reminded me a little of the houses in the Loess Hills of Iowa perched precariously on the rims of steep hills formed by debris deposited long ago winds.

To be continued...

Trip to Idaho for work, part I

2010-09-16T16:48:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, my company had a few of us from each location meet at our facility in Idaho. We were told we could either fly into Boise or Salt Lake City, then rent vehicles to drive the rest of the way. I decided that the Indiana people (3 of us) would fly to SLC, since I have a cousin who lives there, and I would be able to visit her before or after the meeting. Turns out SLC was the logical choice anyways, because there weren't many options available for Boise.

Our flight out of Indiana departed at the ungodly hour of 6:00 in the morning. To make the flight, I met my fellow employees at an even more unholy time, 4:30. This was after a night with only a couple hours of rest because I had to finish preparing the materials we were supposed to bring with us. I tried to relax for the very short flight to Cincinnati, seated by the window next to a stranger.

I deliberately chose seats away from my co-workers on the plane. They aren't horrible people, but I am not the most comfortable with them. I still feel a lot like an outsider at my new place of employment.

After the short hop to Cinci, the next leg of our journey loomed before us abruptly. Our layover didn't last long, and we boarded the large jet. A packed flight and yet another pair of strangers next to me on that shiny metal tube.

Bear Lake, near SLC in Utah

It was fun to take pictures and see just how close I could get with the zoom on my new camera. These pictures weren't full zoom but still turned out neat.

The descent into SLC allowed a full view of the Great Salt Lake looming below, a brilliant shade of azure blue against the whites, browns, and reds of surrounding salt mining fields.

Ours was the first flight to arrive in SLC of the four comprising the SLC group. Three locations were flying into SLC and the others would travel through Boise. We ate lunch then pulled our suitcases from the luggage carousel. I checked the arrival boards and found that the Pennsylvania group had already landed, much earlier than their scheduled time! I called my counterpart with the group, and he said they were at the car rental place working on obtaining our vehicles. We had reserved two SUVs for a total of eight people.

After a bit of a wait, we had our first vehicle, a black Ford Explorer with nice tan, leather seats. We were still waiting on two flights from Texas (the two people chose to take different routes). Some of the PA guys commented that they had yet to eat, so two of us stayed behind while the rest climbed into the Explorer and headed into the wilds of SLC to sight see and dine.

Ok, I've run out of steam for now. To be continued (I know you wait with baited breath)...

Delinquent blogger

2010-09-12T16:51:00.002-04:00

I suppose the one or two of you who actually sometimes happen upon my blog have noticed my absence a lot lately. It makes it more difficult to blog when I don't currently have internet at home, other than through my work phone.

Someday things will settle down, and I'll be all over this blog once again. Someday.

Recent horse pics

2010-08-20T17:53:00.000-04:00

The other day I groomed up my boy, did some ground work, saddled him, then took him on a walk down the road. He's a little pushy, but I expected that with a confident horse used to being herd leader (over mine and Julie's horses combined). Overall he wasn't bad, and I look forward to riding him again soon!

I took some pictures of both horses. I'm very pleased with my new camera, although I even got good ones with my phone camera. Jazzy and Zeplin were both posing!

The ponies are in Indiana!

2010-08-20T15:25:00.000-04:00

It was a long trip in a very short period of time, but they are here! Last Weds evening, I caught the Greyhound to Chicago and then on to Omaha. I would've rather flown, but part of the reason for my trip was to obtain valid photo identification that Iowa would not mail to me. Without current (valid) photo ID, I certainly would not be able to fly to the meeting in Idaho next week.

My friend Kevin (the D.Q.'s mechanic) picked me up in the morning in downtown Omaha. I was still bleary eyed from a long, cold night uncomfortably squeezing myself across two seats of the bus in order to attempt some semblence of sleep. Hopefully I'll have the energy to detail the full story some other time. Kevin drove me to Julie's house, where I could finally shower and rest (but only after saying hello to my ponies!).

Julie helped me run some errands during the course of my brief visit. We headed out at around 11 am on Saturday morning, intending to take mostly interstate in order to avoid stop-and-go traffic. We weren't aware, at the time, that stop-and-go traffic did NOT intend to afford us the same courtesy.

In case you aren't aware, this has been one of the rainiest summers in Iowa ever (as well as other places). Severe flooding, primarily in central Iowa, has garnered national headlines. While we saw some of this intense flooding, that was not the main cause of our troubles. Our delay resulted from an accident (an apparently devastating one) when people driving past the flooding did not pay enough attention to the road as they must have been gawking at all the water everywhere. The only exit we passed where we might have been able to escape the backed up interstate proved to be under water as well, and cars that had attempted to ditch the traffic jam found themselves turning around to return and join us on the sweltering highway.

After roasting for at least two hours to travel perhaps 4 miles down the road, Jazzy and Zeplin were NOT happy campers. We pulled over to offer them water, but they were so upset they refused to drink. Both had slick summer coats soaked in perspiration from the heat and muscle use required to brace against ever shifting flooring.

Here are some flood pictures (Julie took most of these with my new camera):

Can you see the ambulance and the vans nearly submerged?

Farther down the road, we checked on the ponies again and found that the breeze created by cruising along the interstate at normal speeds dried their sweaty coats. We fed them while fueling up, hanging hay bags in front of each velvety muzzle. They were no longer angry, although they still didn't want to drink. They quietly munched their hay and gazed out the dropped down trailer windows.

We stopped a couple more times for gas, and in Illinois gave the horses an extended break in a hotel parking lot, enjoying the quiet still of the night after moving for so long. We pulled handfuls of grass and proffered them to the goat in her crate in the back of the truck, along with the horses. She seemed to take the trip a bit more easily than the horses.

For the remainder of the trip, we untied the horses' heads and let them relax their necks, heads hanging wearily from equally tired shoulders. This time they drank all the water we had with us. We did not unload them for fear that they wouldn't want to get back in the trailer so soon after such a difficult journey.

We reached our destination in Indiana in the very early hours of the morning, probably around 3:00 or so. The horses unloaded gratefully, stretching necks to take in all the new sites. They both snorted at unusual objects shrouded in clouds of fogs created by the heavy humidity in the air. Although Julie and I were just as exhausted, we made sure the horses were comfortable in their new barn, throwing them some hay and rubbing some linament (made from wintergreen isopropanol, witch hazel and water) along their sore muscles.

Julie unhooked the trailer and I drove us silently over to Jane's house to rest for a short time, combatting the humid condensation with sluggish windshield wipers.

My ponies were finally here!!

The horses I meet

2010-08-03T16:31:00.000-04:00

Remember this little guy from my road trip post?

He lives in Oklahoma and is retired from the traveling Lipizanner show. His name is Topez.

Does he remind you of anyone? Maybe another small Arab stallion, this one black and living closer to my current residence in Indiana?

It turns out these two guys have more in common than just being adorable little elderly Arab stallions. In fact, these sweet-natured boys, hailing from different parts of the country, share a sire in common. His name was *Pesniar.

*Pesniar was imported from the Tursk Stud in Russia in 1981, when Russian-bred Arabians were a very hot commodity. His importer, Armand Hammer of Occidental Petrolium, paid $1 million for this elite son of Nabeg.

*Pesniar placed Top Ten in both U.S. and Canadian Nationals in 1982. While he sired many offspring, his name is not as common in modern Arabian pedigrees as some other big name stallion imports of the time. However, both of the *Pesniar sons that I've met are wonderful examples of the Arabian breed.

Horse sitting

2010-08-02T17:11:00.000-04:00

My own ponies are far away (hopefully not for much longer), so I have to get my horse fix where I can. This past weekend I did some horse-sitting for my new friend Jane. Unfortunately, I didn't actually get to sit on any of the horses, it's just an expression.

The boys, trying to stay out of the rain.

Quimby came along, of course.

Quimby was trying hard not to look at Duchess. She's a little intimidated by her...

...because, as you can see, this is quite the intimidating face!

House video finally available!

2010-07-29T11:49:00.001-04:00

Thanks, Julie!! Here it is. Don't mind the unsteady hand of the obviously untrained videographer (me). Spread the word far and wide!! :-) Just remember, the Spotted Boy Wonder does NOT come with the house.

Indiana weather lately

2010-07-29T10:01:00.000-04:00

Pictures of the ponies

2010-07-27T17:46:00.001-04:00

Thanks, Julie, for sending me some pics of my little buggers to keep me going until I can bring them here. Zeplin and Jazzy, the mustang-wannabes of Western Iowa!

Zeplin is quite the romancer of the ladies. He has all of Julie's mares wrapped around his hoof, apparently. With a face like this, how can they resist?

He even suckered Julie into scratching his favorite itchy spot for him, right on his fluffy Arab butt:

I'm planning a trip to come get my stuff, but there are certain problems I need to address. More on everything later (as always) :-)

Goat on the Roof!!!

2010-07-25T18:45:00.000-04:00

Thanks, Julie, for sending today's amusing shots! Molly is such an adorable goat. Julie thinks she goes on the roof to look for me. I think she wants to see her old buddy Quimby. However, she's been making do with Julie's wonderful Tyler and beautiful new Doberman pup, Riddick:

Am I in Texas?

2010-07-25T16:52:00.000-04:00

This here is Longhorn country!!!

This lovely red heifer (top) and the wild colored heifer calf and black and white bull calf belong to a friend of Jane's. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of these little guys!

New friends and adventures

2010-07-25T16:37:00.000-04:00

This summer has been absolutely miserable for riding (although I'm sure I don't need to tell anyone that!). Either it's pouring rain or the combination of heat and humidity drive us sweating and dripping back into the air conditioning within just a few minutes of being outside.

Poor Quimby has been very tolerant of staying in an apartment for now, instead of outside and free all day. She doesn't get a lot of walking right now, because I can't tolerate the unbearable weather for long stretches at a time. This morning, my air conditioning unit gave out. I can't wait until my house sells and I can find a house here so that I'm not feeling so caged. I think I've gained quite a bit of weight, I'm just afraid to step on the scale!

I've made a wonderful new friend named Jane. Jane lives not far from my apartment (less than a mile by distance, but I have to go a little out of the way to cross the river). Jane has three extremely well kept and very lovely horses. Destie is a 6 year old Tennessee Walker gelding. He reminds me quite a bit of my own (very much missed) Zeplin.

Then there is Czar, the 26 year old Arabian stallion (very cute little guy):

Here he is, waiting for his lady, the extremely lovely and sweet 12 year old Arab mare, Duchess:

I have to apologize for the poor quality of the second pic. My old camera died, so I've been using the limited capabilities of my new work camera phone. I didn't take the third picture with it, Jane sent me that one!

I still have so many stories to tell, just from this year. Bear with me, I'm not done yet!

I swear I'm alive!

2010-07-04T16:31:00.001-04:00

I know I've been MIA for most of May and all of June. I'm still transitioning to my new life here in Indiana. I started the new job back on May 24th. For awhile, I was hunting frantically for a place that would allow my dog without having to sign a long term lease. I was living out of a hotel during the week and hanging out with my sister Sarah's family on weekends.

I have an apartment now with a lease through September. Still working on selling my house... My ponies and goat are enjoying Julie's gracious hospitality in Iowa. My motorcycle (the Drama Queen) is at the mechanic's house in Nebraska. My cats are chilling in Sarah's laundry room. Most of my furniture (what there is of it) is still in the house for "staging" purposes. Most of my personal effects are in storage in Iowa until my house sells. I feel spread out all over!

At least I have Quimby with me again, as I work to close this messy stage of moving. And I met a horse lady and got to RIDE today!! More on that later, but things are looking up :-)

House pictures

2010-05-08T01:08:00.000-04:00

Alright, I've finally taken a few pictures of the house that are worth posting online. Obviously I can't fit all of the features of each room into just one or two pictures, but I will try to get the general feel.

First I'll start with an older pic of the outside of the house (my lawn still needs work):

Here is a picture of the kitchen:

Of course, that picture doesn't show one of the main features of the kitchen, the lovely double oven:

The dining room is next to the kitchen:

They are connected by this hallway:

To the right of where I was standing for the last pic is the bathroom:

Across the hall from the bathroom is the downstairs bedroom:

Next to the bathroom is the living room:

And now to the upstairs!!

First we have the spare bedroom:

Then a couple pictures of the landing:

That's all for now. Still to come, pictures of 1) front & back entries; 2) master bedroom; 3) main hall; and 4) basement.

Stay tuned!!

Difficult decisions--Hannah

2010-05-06T14:37:00.000-04:00

My friend Julie recently made an extremely tough and heart-wrenching decision. On Friday, she had her lovely 10 year old Thoroughbred Hannah (Naughty and Daring) humanely euthanized.

Hannah was the mother of Julie's gorgeous young mountain (aka Parker), the nearly three year old Westphalian gelding she has recently started under saddle. Parker inherited all of the best of Hannah's qualities. When he was inspected and branded for registration with the Westphalian verband, Hannah was inspected as well and approved for inclusion in the Main Mare Book.

When I met Julie, I had never ridden horses outside of an arena (lesson) setting. Her go-to horse for inexperienced riders was Hannah. My first trips outside the arena were on this gallant mare. We trailered to a couple places in the area. The first big group ride I went on, the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride in Valparaiso, NE, Hannah was my mount (picture below).

Hannah also carried my sister (Sarah) when she came for a visit this past September, and we rode in the fields around Julie's house.

When Hannah was sound and fit, she was incredibly fun to ride. She had a wonderful, smooth canter with huge strides. She collected beautifully and carried herself gracefully.

However, Hannah had suffered at the hands of her previous owners, before Julie purchased her to use in her breeding program. She had been raced a few times and bore a few scars from the experience. Her feet were horrible from laminitis, and it took a long time for Julie's farrier to correct them. Even after that, she wasn't always sound. She had very flat feet, and the large chunks of stone on the gravel roads around Julie's house were very uncomfortable for her.

Hannah also had problems with her eyes. She had a cataract in one eye, and the other had required surgery. In spite of these handicaps, she put her heart into whatever was asked of her. However, over the years, her eyesight began to fail her. This became apparent in little ways, such as increased aggression towards the other horses (she was an alpha). It was never so clearly demonstrated, though, as the day we took her away from her home environment to be euthanized.

Hannah was very familiar with trailer loading, but that morning she hesitated quite a bit before clambering into Julie's spacious two horse slant. She touched the floor with her nose, as if to assure herself that it truly was solid enough to support her weight. Her boy, Parker, stood at the fence and called frantically to his mother.

When she came out of the trailer, Hannah didn't even appear to notice the other horses standing in a corral not more than fifty feet away. She only became aware when they called to her, and then she lifted her head from her nervous grazing to neigh back, searching for them. I truly don't believe she saw them at all from that distance. There were a few dogs at this place, and Hannah couldn't really tell where they were. When Julie brushed out her tail, she lifted her back leg threateningly, probably thinking it was one of the dogs behind her. She would try to face her "good" eye (the one that had undergone surgery) to try to find Julie, but that eye also was failing her.

In the end, I think Hannah was relying more on feel than sight. She wouldn't have been safe to keep, even as a broodmare, because she could have unintentionally injured her own foal without seeing it. She was too insecure anymore to ride down the road by herself. The likelihood of her suffering injury in Julie's hilly pasture or harming one of the other horses increased greatly as her sight dimmed. That doesn't ease the ache left by her passing, merciful and swift though it was.

Julie's tribute to her mare:

"On Friday April 30th I took my Thoroughbred mare Hannah to a place up North Iowa, to be euthanized and then cremated. Her time of death was approx. 2:15 PM Friday afternoon. Got many pictures of her and hugged and loved up on her a head of time. Expressed my love to her and asked or hoped that I was able to provide her with the best care and a happy life while she lived at my farm.

This was the first time I've ever experienced a horse euthanizing. Wasn't sure if I wanted to be there while it happened but decided I had to for many reasons. Wasn't as violent as I thought it would have been but it did take her a good 10 minutes before her heart stopped beating and for her to stop breathing. The vet was shocked that she was fighting it that much and was trying to hold on. He had to give her 3 different syringes of the stuff to stop her vitals within that 10 minute period. He did sedate her twice before he administered the drugs to euth. her. She fell pretty gracefully and stayed down . Didn't really twitch or kick. I saw her eyes wiggling back and forth. Toward the end she took quite a few deep breaths and the vet checked and there was no heart activity but her brain was still trying to get her to breath for a few seconds more. Finally you could see that her sides quit going in and out and she quit breathing. It was a hard decision for me to make but seeing her after I took her out of her home environment, I got to see how she was really relying on sound and touch to recognize things or to find out where noises were or what items lay in front of her (treats, curry comb and etc.).

See Hannah has a huge cataract in her left eye and her right eye had to have surgery in the past from her scratching it somehow. She didn't have 100% eyesight out of either eye and over the years it must have gotten worse.

When we got there and unloaded her, I could see a frown on her face and she was worried when we got there because she didn't know what was going on and couldn't see very well to know where she was. She kept trying to know where I was when I walked away and if someone else was holding her she would fidget until I came back and held the lead rope. I bawled a lot that day. I was so proud to have her as my horse. She was perfect in every way and was the best example of the good qualities that the Thoroughbred horse breed entail.

When we unloaded her off the trailer she was on a big patch of grass grazing and off to the left, was a corral with quite a few horses in there. She didn't see them or know they were there till she heard them make a noise and call to her. I didn't really realize at home how bad her eyesight was because she was so familiar with everything at the house. It wasn't till I took her out of her element that I realized how bad it was. Seeing and knowing about that made me feel better about my decision to put her down. I had suspected but kept doubting if I was doing the right thing and needed to wait longer to make that decision for her.

I am glad that I have a foal from Hannah so I can still have a part of her bloodline in my herd. Hannah was a kind willing mare that had the best temperament and athletic ability. She was used as a lesson horse for a while and also taught many beginner riders how to ride. She was a special

mare that will always be in my heart. I loved her dearly.

On a good note::: The same day my beloved Thoroughbred mare was released from this earth, my friend miss Judy Willemssen was blessed with a new life with her gorgeous Lipizzan colt. Judy's mare had her foal at 5:30 PM on Friday the 30th. Congrats Judy! A great day to be remembered in many ways.

Internet site to the place Hannah went... (I picked out a real nice urn for her. They'll send back the urn and a portion of her ashes for keep sake)...

R.I.P miss Hannah."

Big news

2010-05-04T21:35:00.000-04:00

Things have been in the works for quite awhile, but today I officially accepted a job in Indiana. I will be returning to my poultry industry background. I will start my new job in a couple weeks, although I'm leaving most of my stuff behind for now. My truck and bike both need some work before I drive them hundreds of miles in one stretch.

While Indiana isn't my favorite state, the opportunity is too good to refuse. Not quite the salary I was wanting, but lots of opportunities for growth within the company. I'm looking forward to a bright future, although I will certainly miss research work.

So here's to a bright new beginning! At least I will be able to see my nephews and nieces on a more regular basis. Lots of things will be happening very quickly in the next few weeks. I hope to still have time to pop in occasionally and keep all of my readers (yes, I know there aren't many of you :-P) updated on the latest and greatest.

I learned the secret to the universe!!

2010-05-04T18:28:00.000-04:00

Yes, it's true! On Saturday this, the greatest of realizations, was bestowed upon me by the wise, all knowing riders of the Waubonsie Saddle Club from Sidney, Iowa.

Let me start from the beginning.

Saturday morning, Julie and I trekked down I-29 to lovely Sidney, located just north of the border between Iowa and Missouri. She brought her dependable and gorgeous Vivian and I had my beloved and beautiful (but sometimes bratty) Spotted Boy Wonder. We planned on camping overnight, so after turning the ponies out to graze for a bit and stretch their legs in the corrals of the Fremont County Fairgrounds, Julie pulled out her truck tent. Between talking to other riders and setting up tent, we lost track of the time, and before we knew it we had only a half an hour to get the ponies ready!

I collected the kids and tied them to the trailer so we could groom and tack them. I had Zeplin in his normal rope halter and thought nothing of this. I have yet to ride him in a bit, and both of us are just fine with that arrangement. Bits are for refining communication but should not be necessary for controlling your loving equine. My training goal for Zeplin is to put him in a simple snaffle when we are ready to work on collection. Until then, we are happy in the halter with reins clipped to the loop under his jaw.

Zeplin was understandably nervous, having never been around such a large crowd of horses. There were probably about 30 riders altogether, a sizeable group but not overwhelming for my young, inexperienced gelding. He pranced a little but allowed me to mount without issues. We were the only ones using English tack (Julie had opted to bring her Circle Y trail saddle to use on Vivian). I had the only Ay-rab of the group, as well. He wasn't the youngest, though, as some lady was riding a 2.5 year old paint filly.

The ride started out through a muddy lot next to the corrals and some pens for 4H show cattle. Zeplin felt tense, unsure of himself amidst the array of strange horses and humans. I soothed him with my voice and patted his neck, bending him in both directions to help occupy his mind and ease his nerves. He whinnied repeatedly, still confused and worried about the crowd. We crossed a highway and headed up a gravel drive to a large pasture filled with Angus cows and their young calves.

At the top of a hill in the pasture the ride leader halted, presumably to wait for trailing members of the group. Zeplin had settled some, and I allowed him to graze a little to help him relax. While we waited, I fielded a few questions about my sweet spotted boy. This was the first time someone made note aloud about Zep's lack of a bridle. I heard one lady advise her riding companion to "steer clear" of my boy since he wasn't in a bit. Umm.... ok... So far the only things Zeplin had done were a result of lack of experience (whinnying, jigging a little, but nothing at all out of control).

After our brief hiatus, we continued down a gentle hill in the pasture and through another gate into another section, this one wooded. Zeplin and I are not used to hills, as the area around my house is table-top flat. I knew it would be an adjustment for him, and I was determined to help him out the best I could. The most difficult part was going down the hills, as he tried to balance both me and himself without falling flat on his face.

As we continued, Zep settled down more and enjoyed looking around at the scenary. Vivian nickered deeply at him anytime she lost sight of him briefly. Julie chatted amicably with the lady behind her. Zeplin didn't like having Vivi behind him, so I tried to keep him in front of her but not too close to the generous rear of the big Quarter Horse ahead. He became better and better at picking his way through the trees and down the slopes (although at one point we did get a vine wrapped around us because I steered him to the side to avoid running into the aforementioned QH gelding on a downslope). I mentioned to the lady on that QH about how all the logs on the path would force Zeplin to pay attention to where he placed his feet so that he wouldn't trip. "He tends to gawk around him instead of looking where he is going, so he sometimes trips," I told her, laughing.

"Have you tried a bit?" was her sage response. I was dumbfounded. What does using a bit have to do with getting my boy to be more aware of his feet.

"I plan on working more with cavaletti," I replied, still bemused at her remark.

It certainly was a lovely day for a ride. In the protected hills with the bright sun shining down on us and the clouds floating overhead, the hellish winter seemed to have occurred ages ago. Zeplin enjoyed himself immensely, walking forward with eagerness and pointing those curious ears ahead. Anytime we paused, I allowed him to grab some grass while I visited with other people. Vivian wanted to be attached at the hip to her pretty little boyfriend.

At about the two and a half hour mark, I could tell my sweet boy was feeling fatigued, although he gamely continued. We were headed down a slightly steep decline and back towards the main pasture from whence the ride started. "This is the last large hill, isn't it?" I asked Julie, relieved that we would be returning because my boy was tired, but sad to have the experience end as well.

"It should be," Julie answered. At the bottom of the hill flowed a small rivelet through a ditch. The group in front of us headed southeast from that point, and I thought it odd that we were not heading closer to the starting point. My worries grew even more when we rejoined a portion of the path on which we had already traversed and turned west again.

"We are looping around again?" I wondered, confused. I panicked a little, knowing my young boy was near the end of his endurance for now. I didn't want to push him beyond his limits and destroy the pleasure he felt in going out on excursions with me.

Julie cursed a little, noting that we were climbing back up a hill we had already covered. "Let's stop at the top to rest and let most of the group pass," she said. We allowed our tired mounts to graze while other riders continued on, oblivious to the condition of their own mounts. Zeplin was sweaty but still willing to do anything I asked of him.

At the crest of the hill, we slowly followed the others, still feeling frustrated and upset that we weren't headed back by now. Vivian, out of condition like Zeplin, showed her own signs of fatigue. "Look, that group looks like it's going back," Julie said suddenly, pointing to four horses and their riders who had split from the rest behind us and were headed back towards that hill we had just descended a short time ago. "Should we go with them?"

I heard someone mention in passing that the group was looking for a lost cell phone, but it was better to try our luck with them than to push our mounts anymore than we had already.

"Let's hurry so we don't lose sight of them," Julie said, pushing Vivi into a trot. Zeplin jounced along behind her. I didn't like rushing so much, but we didn't want to be left behind, either. We reached the top of the hill, and I called to Julie to slow down. Zeplin stopped, and I considered dismounting and leading him down. I could tell he really didn't have a lot of energy to tackle the downgrade. His very hesitance spoke volumes, as my boy rarely needs any kind of urging to move forward. I squeezed him lightly, asking him to try for me.

I tried to pick out the easiest route down the slope that I could find. The group on the bottom had spotted us and was patiently waiting for us to join them. Zeplin started down, but he would find himself unable to slow down, and he'd try to turn around to go back up. In stages we worked our way down, although towards the end he was speeding up and felt like he couldn't stop. He teetered on the edge of the ditch we had passed earlier with a trickle of water, but he managed to pull himself up. I landed on his neck but didn't fall off (although the sunglasses I had borrowed from Julie that were too large slipped off and landed on the ground). We were both relieved to be at the bottom of that hill, and I knew I couldn't ask that of him again on this ride. I'd get off before doing so.

After that, the going was much easier. Zeplin followed a man on his grey horse leading a buckskin paint that a boy was riding. The man cursed the paint mare, and at one point he dropped the lead rope. Julie offered to collect it for him.

The wooded area ended with a slight slope up a muddy incline to the main pasture gate. We rode through and found a lady there, sitting on a fallen tree and waiting with her horse. I'm not sure entirely what was going on, but I think that the rest of the group was supposed to have returned with us. At some point, the main ride leader had left, hence all the confusion. Zeplin and Vivian took the opportunity to graze and catch their second wind. Julie and I dismounted and let them eat.

In the course of discussing my boy with the man who had been riding ahead of me on the grey, he warned that I had better switch to a bit, hackamore, or bosal before I "ruined" Zeplin by riding in just a rope halter. "It would be a shame to ruin such a good minded, pretty horse," he commented.

While I took pride that he noticed Zeplin's stellar qualities, I was floored by this, the third time someone mentioned that I should not ride my gelding in just a halter. Nevermind that he was happy, forward, willing, and certainly well behaved. No, I was destroying him!

It was then that I realized these kind, insightful people had only been offering me the key to the universe: the BIT!! Why of course, that was the answer to EVERYTHING!! I was now enlightened, thanks to their diligent efforts to bring awareness to all the signs that I was training Zeplin wrong. Because of these people, I could now pinpoint all of these signs that I had been on the wrong track and was close to shattering the tenuous bond I had with my silly pony. I will list these warning signs now, so as to alert wary readers as to what to look for and set them straight by immediately switching to a bit so as to avert disaster:

1. Is your boy eagerly and willingly stepping out, needing only the slightest nudge (if that) to move forward?
2. Does your boy relax and walk on a loose rein, occasionally licking and chewing?
3. Does your boy listen and respond to your cues without a fuss?
4. Do you feel like you have a good, strong line of communication with him?
5. Is he well behaved and completely under control?
6. Does he work hard to try everything you ask of him, even when he's clearly tired?
7. Is he confident in your leadership and trusts you completely?

If your horse exhibits all of these symptoms listed, then you must put him in a bit without delay!! Otherwise, you risk crumbling his spirit and sending him plunging into despair! Oh, to think I nearly did this to my own beloved Zeplin. How can I live with myself and the cruelty I've inflicted by riding him in just a rope halter?

I have seen the error of my ways!! I will repent and use the BIT on Zeplin henceforth!

Or maybe not...

The rest of the evening, after having a lovely dinner provided by the saddle club, Julie and I shared our disbelief that so many people could be so set in their ways that they couldn't even realize that using a bit is not supposed to be about control. A bit is a tool of communication. If you don't have control established without the use of a bit, are you really in charge of your steed? Julie used to own a horse who would run through the bit. If a thousand pound animal decides he doesn't want to listen to you, is a piece of metal in his mouth really going to stop him? Training is the key to control, not a bit!

Anyways, Julie and I had a wonderful time camping out at the fairgrounds. No one else stayed the night, and we had to rush over to prevent the groundkeeper from locking us out of the restrooms. Zeplin and Vivian were best of buddies, enjoying each other's company in the small corral they shared.

Julie started a camp fire while I took my spotted boy over to meet a 4H calf tied to the rail a ways down the aisle from his corral. Zeplin had never seen a cow before this day. He followed me nervously, his eyes barely leaving the scary black monster. We approached and I held my hand out to the little heifer. She sniffed my hand and then licked at it. Zeplin stretched his neck out to smell her, but he didn't want to move any closer to the furry girl. Finally he stretched his muzzle to her nose... and that dark black tongue snaked out to lick him!!

Zeplin jumped back, eyes wide. "She tried to eat me!!!" he snorted, trying to spin around on the lead line and retreat. I wouldn't let him run away, but I didn't make him go any closer. I laughed at him, unable to help myself. He was so silly!

Vivian called Zeplin, pacing up and down the fenceline. We returned to her, and Zeplin happily entered the pen where his big girl could protect him from the crazy black beasts down the row.

In the morning, Julie hopped on vivian bareback while I saddled my boy. We rode them around the fairgrounds, noting that neither seemed sore from the previous day's exertion. I asked Zeplin to look at more cows, and he trembled but obeyed. We didn't come very close to them, but I would not let him wheel around and bolt or hurry away from them. I need to get him his very own calf, to help him overcome his fears ;-)

What an incredible weekend!! I'll be moving soon, so I have to enjoy these moments while I can. Thank you so much, Julie, for all that you've done for me and my ponies. We are going to miss you!

There ain't no rest for the wicked

2010-04-24T00:56:00.000-04:00

So I'm way behind schedule getting my house ready to show. Wow, there are a million little things to do that all add up!! Hope to get some pictures this weekend, though.

The weekend before last was tons of fun. I had friends over on Saturday (Sudhir, his wife Isha, and a couple guys he knows). Sunday Julie and I celebrated our friend Deb's birthday. Remind me to tell you all about that stuff later.

Last weekend I spent in Indy with my brother, his wife, and their three boys. I watched the twins' first baseball game of the season. Lots of drama surrounding their team uniforms!

Yesterday I took Zep out on the roads around my house. He nearly had a heart attack when a huge tractor with the disking attachment passed us on a very narrow gravel road. We ended up in the ditch with him frozen like a statue, hoping the monster didn't notice us and have us for dinner. I felt lucky that Zeplin didn't turn and bolt for home!

More details on happenings later. I really don't have a lot of extra energy to write these days, and I never want to feel like my blog posts are forced. So enjoy a few gratuitous pics of Zep from our trip to Deb's house (he was still shedding and very dirty).

Happy April!!

2010-04-06T14:40:00.001-04:00

Here's a trivia fact that's funny but true: my parents were married on April Fool's Day in 1967. They have yet to call the joke off...

My oldest niece, Samantha (Sammie), just celebrated her fourth birthday a few days ago. It's amazing how quickly the time flies! My younger niece, Nicole, will turn one at the end of the month.

Another exciting recent development would be my first ride of the year on each of my hairy ponies! I haven't made a lot of time to work with them, as busy as I've been lining up my new job and getting the house ready to sell. I decided on Friday that I would ride them both, wind or not (the wind had been blowing nonstop since the weather started to warm up--big surprise in Iowa, let me tell you...).

Jazzy was such a sweetheart! I had not ridden her since July, due to various reasons (abscess, crack in hoof from abscess down that had to grow out, starting Caly, getting trail time on Zep, weather). She had no objections to me saddling her at liberty. She stood perfectly for me to mount, and walked off with just the slightest squeeze of the leg. She resisted turning to the right (the side with her partially blind eye), but she didn't act up at all. I kept her in the round pen, and we trotted a little bit before I called it good. I retrieved Zeplin from where I had tied him on the outside of the pen (that boy really needs to work on standing tied patiently again--he used to do it very well). Jazzy settled in easily on the rail.

Zeplin is a four year old. Anyone who has dealt with a horse of this age (equitable to a human teenager) understands exactly what that means. He currently has the attention span of a gnat, distracted by everything and desiring to test his limits. He is far too comfortable around me and follows me happily, but he doesn't like my attempts to send him away. The best way for me to get him to longe is using a plastic sack on a stick, but he doesn't listen like Jazzy. I'm sure a lot of it is my own inexperience as a trainer, but one thing I really like about Jazzy is how responsive she is to my cues. I'm positive that it's because she grew up basically untouched. Zeplin is a spoiled brat, and while he knows better than to try to run me over or crowd my space, he still needs constant reminders of his place lower down in the herd (and not just from me, from Jazzy as well!!). This spring I'm going to have to step up his groundwork a LOT!!

Zeplin mouthed at everything while I groomed him (still building a second horse from his shedding hair). He didn't mind being saddled (at liberty) until I tightened the girth. However, in the end he realized he wouldn't escape his fate, so he allowed me to finish tacking him.

Mr. Antsy didn't want to stand still so I could get on him, so I stood on the overturned water trough I use as a mounting block and circled him around me whenever he scooted his furry butt away from me. Finally he was lined up next to me and stood still while I leaned over him and slapped at the saddle. However, once I swung my leg over, off he went again! Such a little turd!

I got Zep to stop briefly while I settled myself in the saddle and found the stirrups. He parked out, bracing against my weight. Just the slightest nudge and we were off, walking both directions of the roundpen. I kept him to a walk because he wouldn't relax and he felt testy. After a short time of reminding him to pay heed, I asked him to exit the roundpen and we walked into the yard.

Zeplin remained tense while we walked in circles in the pasture. He tried acting up a bit, but this boy lets you know years in advance when he's thinking of being naughty, and I easily diverted him with more work. He searched for things to balk at, and he tripped the first time I directed him over a log because he wasn't paying attention to where he placed his feet. We had a few episodes and fits, but for the most part he listened to my direction. I kept him to a walk because he never truly relaxed. I'm sure the wind didn't help at all.

Saturday I rode Jazzy again, but cut it short when Zeplin managed to open the clasp on his leadline and escape being tied to the rail. I sighed and slid off my patient red mare, quietly and quickly catching Zeplin to return him to his place on the panel. After that I worked Jazzy a little at liberty, then took her out still saddled to graze while I grabbed the silly gelding.

I pressed Zeplin around me using the leadrope as a longe whip. He bucked and kicked at me, but he moved his feet as I asked. My time was short, as I had promised Julie that I would help her put the second ride on her nearly three year old Westfalen gelding, Parker (aka The Mountain).

Way back at the end of February, I held Parker so that Julie could climb on his big back for the first time. She wasn't on him very long, and he remained on the leadline. The most exciting part came when she asked him to sidepass over to the bucket she used as a mounting block so that she could dismount. He understood and complied without a second thought!

Now it was time for the first ride off the line. I held Parker while Julie mounted, then I climbed on Vivian and rode around Julie's arena. Parker was hesitant and a bit sticky, but he didn't offer Julie any trouble. She rode him in a new rope hackamore.

Julie has done a lot of preparatory work with Parker (registered as Perpetual Motion). He has a very thorough and solid groundwork foundation. Parker will turn three next month. I have mentioned his dam, Hannah (TB), previously. His sire is the beautiful and extremely talented Pablo, who stands at Rainbow Equus Meadows in California. This boy is going to be HUGE (I tell Julie that he's definitely going to make it to at least 17 hands) and will be able to jump the moon when he's fully mature.

Towards the end of our session, Parker started to develop a little more confidence, and he slowly followed Vivian around the outer limits of the arena.

Julie worked Parker for about half an hour before sliding off his back and returning him to the barn. I continued to putz around the arena on Vivian, but the normally compliant grey mare felt pissy that day. She called after Parker frantically and refused to relax. After a time of walking her around the arena where she threw fits at little things, I stepped down and let Julie deal with her moodiness. It was most likely a combination of the wind and her being in season, since I know she's normally obedient and reliable.

The rest of the weekend consisted of more work on the house and little horse time. I probably won't have the chance to ride again until Thursday, that is if it's not raining!

How the children grow!!

2010-03-31T15:45:00.000-04:00

I know it's been quite awhile since I've posted. Things are still hectic, but hopefully (fingers, toes, everything crossed) I've found an awesome job. It will mean a move to a state I'm not crazy about, but the benefits outweigh the pitfalls. More about that later, when things are completely finalized and set in stone...

So, I will try to post more regularly again. I'm working part-time now, just two days a week (Tuesdays and Wednesdays). While it's wonderful to have so much time to work on my house, especially with such incredible weather, obviously these kinds of hours aren't going to pay the bills. The house still has lots of work needed. Last night, when I returned home, I found that the front storm door my brother-in-law kindly replaced last fall was torn off the hinges and propped on its side against the front step!! I was pissed. I don't see how the dog, goat, or wind could've bent the metal and ripped it out of the frame, nor how any of those things could place it next to the step. What the hell??!!

Sorry about that, I just had to vent. On to more pleasant topics.

This was my Spotted Boy Wonder around this time last year. He was close to 3 years old (I'm not entirely sure of his birthdate, just know it was sometime in spring of 2006). I sat on him the first time on Easter Sunday. I need to get some recent pictures of the Boy, but you won't believe how much he's grown and filled out!! I think he's right at 15 hands now, the perfect height for an Ay-rab! He shows the best traits of his CMK ancestry, with many of the characteristics I love about the American Foundation bloodlines (I'll have to post a picture pedigree for him sometime). He's still a bit narrow in the front, but broadness will come as he continues to mature (physically, at least. I don't know if he'll ever completely mature mentally, the brat).

I can't wait to really start working my boy. I've been so busy with the house that I haven't done more than take the ponies for walks and some longeline work, but I need to change that if I'm going to have him ready for the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride (FBMDR) in Valparaiso, NE. We are going to trot, trot, trot, trot! this year. Maybe sometime late in the summer I can take him on his first limited distance ride. I want to register him with the American Endurance Ride Conference (AERC). He already thinks he's a race horse, this will be his chance to prove it! Eventually I'd also like to show him in the Pinto Horse Association of America (PtHA).

Jazzy is coming around again faster than Mr. Reactive. I threw my exercise ball into the roundpen with them the other night. Jazzy stretched out her nose and trotted straight at it to check it out. Zeplin's head flew in the air, his eyes grew wide, and those nostrils flared. He bolted away. After a few minutes, he finally examined the ball up close, then he wanted to pick it up with his teeth.

The ponies are shedding like crazy, Zeplin worse than Jazzy. I told my friend Julie that I could create a clone of Zep from his hair if she wanted one. You can't pet him without coming away with a fistful of white.

That's how things are for now. I'll be heading out of state next week for a few days to check into this job possibility. Back to story-telling again soon!!

Just when you think it's safe...

2010-03-19T17:41:00.000-04:00

...more snow!! Why? WHY?!

Yesterday got up into the 60s, but here we are again, hovering near freezing. THIS is why I'm so ready to move south!

Anyone want to buy a small acreage in Iowa just north of Omaha? Please, spread the word. Contact me for details.

Update

2010-03-04T16:10:00.001-05:00

A quick update on my situation:

- I'm still looking for a new job. I'll be out of time where I currently work at the end of April.
- I ripped out some carpet in two rooms to replace with vinyl tile. However, one room had gorgeous old farmhouse-style hardwood flooring underneath, and it would be a sin to cover that! Working on quick restoration.
- It's now warmed up sufficiently that the snow has started to melt. Mud and slush all over the place. Not much I can do outside until the heavy carpet of snow is completely gone! That is going to take some time...
- Next weekend is the Nebraska Horse Expo. Really want to go, but probably just for one day rather than the whole weekend (I really don't have money to spare at this time).

Back to my three fulltime jobs: finishing projects at my current job, applying for a new position, and readying the house to show for sale. Hope to have an uplifting update soon!

Quimby and the Rabbit

2010-02-23T14:16:00.002-05:00

I pulled up the garage door to grab hay for the ponies this morning, and Quimby shot past me when the door was barely cleared from the ground. Lately she has an obsession with a furry little ball of cute, the rabbit living in my garage.

For a rabbit, this outbuilding provides a veritable feast, an endless buffet of soft grass hay and leafy alfalfa. With easy access through a dog door that never was finished, Mr. Rabbit could come and go as he pleased. All he needed to survive the harsh winter existed in surplus within just a few hops of the cozy bed he made for himself under the deck of the riding mower. Fresh water provided for the horses, warmed by an electric coil at the bottom of the bucket, quenched his thirst whenever he did venture from his nest.

I'm not exactly sure when the bunny moved into his new digs, but Quimby has been frothing at the mouth to get him. She runs through each section of the divided garage interior, whining in frustration and yipping at her tiny nemesis. Perhaps she believes enough barking will draw him out of hiding so she can enjoy a tasty snack?

My favorite game to play with Quimby lately is to ask her, "Where's the rabbit?!" She will perk up her silly collie ears and look around intently, wondering if you saw something she didn't. Then she will tear off across the snow to the trees, leaping several feet into the air when she reaches the grove to see if she can spot him while sky borne. She will disappear down the hill for several minutes, searching through the downed logs, then come flying back like a sleek little black-and-tan racecar.

Some nights I come home and hear Quimby's frantic, high-pitched wails as she fruitlessly chases Mr. Rabbit around the yard. I think if she saved her energy for just running rather than vocalizing, she might have better luck.

Anyways, this morning I turned my back on Quimby, who automatically rushed to the mower on the other side of a hog panel. As I peeled a few flakes off a bale to feed the ravenous hooved beasts outside, I heard blood curdling screams emanating from some point behind me. I paused in my endeavors and glanced over my shoulder.

Quimby had nabbed the poor bunny as he fled from under the mower. He had squeezed most of his lithe body through the hog panel, but Quimby had a grip on his fur from the other side. He screamed and Quimby whined, trying desperately to pulling him back through the grid to her.

I'm not sure how long the ensuing struggle lasted. I returned to my task, gathering up loose hay.

Next I heard Quimby's aggravated cries. Mr. Rabbit had freed himself from her tenuous hold, losing large tufts of fur in the process. I'm sure he won't miss those, as he most likely feels his life is more important than his vanity.

I carried the grass hay out to the horses and returned for a couple of flakes of alfalfa. Quimby darted in and out of the garage, still desperately searching for her lost prey. I had leaned over to pick up the alfalfa, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a flash of brown.

Mr. Rabbit, in full fledged panic, ran straight into my leg in his attempt to evade Quimby. Normally there isn't a leg in his path when he takes that particular route. He quickly regained his equilibrium and bounded off, although I didn't see where he went. Neither did Quimby, apparently, because she continued to search high and low for her foe, but she had not yet found him when I ushered her out and closed the overhead door.

Mr. Rabbit 1, Quimby 0.

So Long, Jack Tripper

2010-02-16T15:27:00.002-05:00

This story was written by a friend, Terri of Good Hands Horse Training & Sales (see her blog here). I like to bring awareness to some of the unpleasant circumstances in which good horses may find themselves (see the story of Clever Allemont, a Graded stakes winning Thoroughbred). Jack could've been someone's "forever" horse, but he fell into the wrong hands. As a result, Jack suffered severe psychological trauma that he could never truly overcome. He was humanely euthanized last week.

A couple days ago I put to rest a fine young horse. No catastrophic wound, no terminal illness. No external reason to let him go. This horse was Jack, the rescue horse. Some of you have followed his story, since that icy February day, two years ago that he arrived in Sioux City, via Nebraska Humane Society stock trailer, some from even earlier when he and several other horses were seized by the Nebraska Humane Society from a North Omaha barn the previous spring.

Jack had been used as a trip horse in a backyard Mexican rodeo. For you not familiar with the sport, it is something akin to our American calf roping event, only it’s a horse that’s hazed down an alley and then is caught around the front legs and brought to the ground, at speed. He survived that experience with minimal physical injuries but was left with a deep and abiding panic disorder and it was that which would be the end of him. The authorities were only able to seize the horses after they were discovered emaciated and on the edge of death by starvation, as there were no ordinances in place at that time in the city of Omaha, banning the sport.

I had warned the NHS officers if they brought me a nutcase, we’d soon be euthanizing or I’d have to be free to dispose of him as I see fit. I grew up in rural Northern California ranch country and while I love my horses, I do view them as livestock. With that view, I believe responsible horse owners should be able to dispose of their livestock in the manner they see fit, and I made that very clear. The horse that came off the trailer was not remotely what I was expecting. Scared, yes, but humble and hopeful, he took a good look around before carefully and sanely depositing himself on the ground. I had a good grip on the halter rope, the thought he might want to leave the country, me skiing along behind was large on my mind.

Then, as almost always, Jack was light and respectful on the leadline. I have worked with a lot of horses in my life and you don’t get that kind of response without someone putting in some intelligent effort and hours into a young horse. The fellows running their rodeo had purchased their stock from a killer buyer, but I’ll lay good money whoever brought this colt to auction had no idea of his more than likely end. He was intact, maybe had his papers, maybe did or did not ride . . . There’s too many of those in the world right now for the people we have available that are able and willing to bring them along and horses with more opportunity than Jack have gone down the long road on a truck.

Jack blew up the second day I had him. I had been told he could stand tied, and rather than check that out for myself, I tied him. That’s when I first got to witness his panic in full color as he blindly fought and struggled to free himself. Once he’d tangled himself enough to choke himself down, I was able to cut the rope and get him free. From that point on, I took nothing for granted with this horse, and spent the next two years, breaking his training down into as small pieces as I could think, trying to reach into that damaged mind and bring him back.

There were many signs along the way that this could be a very successful journey. What happened to him destroyed his confidence, but it did not destroy Jack’s play drive. A horse that will engage and play can surely be saved, I thought. We established a “rope game” that we would play when Jack was stressed and it would help him gain his composure. I found that game by accident. Not surprisingly, after he’d beat his face against the side of a barn, Jack was none too keen on wearing a halter and it took some doing to get one on him. I won’t ever force a horse but attempt to build their willing cooperation, and there was not much coming from him on this score. Into the round pen we went, him on a neck rope made from my 22’ line. I looped it over his neck, crossed it under and stood back at a safe distance, should he strike at the offenders, which could includeme. I would gently flop them a little, letting him feel the lines softly on the sides of his face. The aim was to desensitize him to touch on his face and let him know that could happen without pain or fear. Much to my surprise, Jack reached for the lines and would bump them with his nose. I’d flop them at him; he’d bump them back at me. He’d even mouth them, shaking his head, creating a similar ripple effect at me that I was sending at him. From then on, when Jack had trouble, he’d ask for the rope game and we’d take a moment and play til he could move on to the next step.

The horse put me in tears every time I worked with him in those early days. I am no maudlin ill informed animal rights sympathizer. As I said, I love my horses and they are also livestock, intended to do a job, as well. This horse had as much heart and try as any I have ever laid my hand or eye on. There would be times what I would ask him to endure would be very hard for him. He’d been whipped, as he’d soon learned if he run, he’d be thrown and he’d apparently tried to refuse to run until his back was opened up, and he had no choice. I asked Jack to allow my to put my stick and string gently all over his body, including around his legs, neck and back. I started far back, just moving the stick and string on the ground, many feet away from him. He would tremble and snort, and sometimes would retreat inside himself in an almost catatonic manner. I know, once a thing is begun, you have to see it through to not leave a horse in doubt which only creates deeper fears. I would reduce the stimulation while continuing to engage him, and he would come back to himself, blinking, licking and chewing. One day, the yawning began. People often mistakenly believe horses yawn when they are bored, it is actually connected with an adrenalin release. Jack would yawn until his eyes rolled up in his head and tears from his damaged ducts would roll down his face. They were matched by my own. He would focus on me with both ears and both eyes, would take steps toward me, and reach for me with his nose. I reached right back with all the heart I have for a horse.

That first couple of months, I had him not only accepting the touch of that string, but wearing a saddle blanket, a hula hoop, and had very high hopes that the following year we would debut at the Nebraska Horse Expo. I had even picked out the music (Boondocks, by Little Big Town) and was writing the story in my head of the redeemable throwaway horses. Jack would walk over tarps; he learned to tolerate squeezes, which would be terrifying to a naturally claustrophobic animal that had learned just how bad such a trap could be. I thought this would be as fine of an example of why not to give up on a horse as there ever could possibly be.

Never, though, with all these gains, did he get fully calm or gentle. The least noise would send him into a startle, the white would return to his eyes, the tension to his body. Fight or flight was his first line of response and that, I could not change.

I taught him to be caught, worked with him in the round pen, teaching him to disengage his hip at liberty, face up and come to me. I have snotty saddle horses that would make the choice to not, but Jack, anywhere, any time . . . if I could catch his eye, and release the pressure to him as he’d look at me, he’d face up and often as not, come to me on a line straight as a die even with me walking away from him, he’d fall in at my shoulder.

I firmly believe it was this horse’s deep level of trainability that was his undoing. He’d learned that life is unpredictable which is something I teach all my colts, but unlike them, he’d learned it was unpredictable in bad and awful ways and that was entrenched to an instinctive level I guess I had no hope of reaching. I kept trying though, and so did he.

I’d heard he’d jumped a fence at the sight of a mounted rider in his first foster home, and watched with interest the first time I mounted a horse in the round pen with Jack munching hay on a round bale with the brood mares not 30 feet away. As I stepped into the stirrup, his head flies up in alarm. He glances at the mares as if to say “hey, don’t we have to get out of here, and NOW?” Those lazy girls paid neither he nor I the slightest heed and his curious attention went back and forth, from the calm, confident horse I was riding in the pen to the unconcerned ladies he lived with . . . I could soon ride almost close enough to touch him from the saddle. Never quite managed that, though.

There were long blocks of time Jack just got to be a horse. Professional trainer, my projects are back burnered when I have paying horses in the barn, and it works better when I have them there more often than not. Jack babysat my last foal crop and if there were any reason for me to be raising babies, he’d have had a job for life. Kind and sensible with the youngsters, he was a good and steady influence when weaning time came.

Then came the fateful day I decided he was ready to try a saddle. We’d done a lot of good work, seemed to me he was coming right along. A few stutters here and there, but it seemed moving forward was the good and likely direction. What I will say here, is that if I had that day to do over, I’d have done it a little different. Every other step I took with that horse, I broke it down to steps that made paint drying look fast. That day, I just saddled him up. I had already, of course, desensitized him to feeling pressure on his girth and back cinch area, had led him around off the girth rope. What I did not take into account was my habit of releasing to give, and when Jack would come with me, I’d release pressure to let him know he was doing the right thing. Saddles don’t release pressure, and when Jack moved away, and the pressure came with him, I think it blew his mind. I have never, in all my life, and I have seen some bucking, exploding horses, seen a horse react like this. End shot, he took out a couple panels of my round pen, bucked and ran around a three acre pasture (don’t let anyone ever tell you a horse cannot buck and run at top speed, if there was more speed than that, he should have been on the track and wow, what an athlete . . .). I finally got him directed into a pen, and he bucked and charged back and forth in that pen until he hooked the stirrup on a fence post and tore the saddle off. What broke my heart is I don’t think he even knew the saddle was gone. Nothing in his behavior changed, he bucked, kicked and lashed out hysterically, sweat and lather rolling off his body. As he became exhausted, he put himself into small circles, occasionally throwing a buck, or lashing out with a kick, hanging his head, gasping for air, and then off he’d go again.

Sick at heart, I waited until there was life in his eyes and called his name. He wanted none of me, and I let him sit, dragging his halter rope, while I went about my business, checking on him occasionally. By evening, I felt safe to go in and get him caught. We were back to zero. I pulled his halter and walked away. At any point during that terrible wreck, I waited for him to hurt himself, leap through a fence, tear himself open or break his leg. It is thought the grace of God as I understand him that Jack came through with only some minor cuts and scrapes.

How fair was this? How much of my ego was getting tied up in bringing back the dead? How could I ever know, no matter how far I got with him, that something would not set off that blind panic and he’d kill himself, or me or cause death or injury to an innocent bystander?

I worked with Jack a couple more times after this, still thinking . . . maybe. I could do so many things with him! That horse would do flawless groundwork, floating around on a draped line . . . no more pressure than it takes to move the theoretical toy boat in the bath tub. And he would panic.

It was time to stop. This was a great kind horse who should have been someone’s forever not for sale at any price love of their equine life. It was not in the cards for him. I vowed to give him a home in safe pastures as long as I had hay to give. Little did I know that my circumstances would soon change and that would become not possible.

I am one to seek wise council from informed friends and then tend to do what I think best, anyway, but in this case, we were all agreed. It was time to let him go rather than see that fine and damaged horse ever find himself in harms’ way, no matter how well intended, ever again. I opted to not put him on a truck. While I don’t mind that end, done safely and humanely, this horse had suffered enough at the hands of human beings, and deserved his death to be kind, dignified and as quietly loving as I could manage.

Rest in peace, Jack Tripper, and may I never forget the gifts and lessons in spirit, heart and courage that I got from one throwaway bay horse.

Indefinite intermission

2010-02-08T20:08:00.000-05:00

I'm really kicking up my job search (and stress level) so that I can hopefully have something lined up when my current position ends (fingers crossed, legs crossed, everything crossed). I'm sure that my blog will be neglected. Don't despair! Stay tuned to your license plate... er computer screen... I will be back! Meanwhile, live life to the fowlest... I mean fullest!

My first dogs, part II

2010-02-03T19:20:00.003-05:00

Tasha (left) and Hannah (right) not long after I got them, 2005

Do these look like the faces of trouble makers?

Yeah. Looks are deceiving. Those little devils quickly scratched and chewed up what wood they could in my back entry way (where they are photographed here). They were not yet kennel trained when I got them, so I had to teach them to sleep in the kennels quietly.

I put the crates in the garage, then I put blankets in them. I read a book to the pups while they were in the crates to calm them. Then I left them in there alone for longer and longer stretches of time. Meanwhile, I let them run free in the garage until they were comfortable with being kenneled for long stretches.

What a mistake.

The garage was insulated and had an exposed 3 foot wide section of insulation on the far wall where there used to be an outside door. The dogs decided this served as excellent entertainment, and before long they buried the cement floor in layers of torn fluff (mixed with their urine and excrement, of course).

The puppies gauged strips into the walls along the only window trying to look outside. They tried to scratch their way out by the door, resulting in a big hole. To their delight, they pulled even more insulation from this newly formed hole to spread around.

I left the crate doors open so they could walk in and out while familiarizing themselves with their new "area." Of course, I left the blankets in there so that they wouldn't have to lay on the hard bottom of the crates. Those blankets didn't last very long, suffering the same fate as the insulation had before them.

I accidentally forgot the book I had been reading to them on one of the crates, and it was demolished the next time I saw the girls.

I learned (the hard way) that I couldn't turn both dogs loose to exercise at the same time. One always had to be on a lead or tied up, or they would take off down the road, ignoring my frantic calls for them to come back.

One day (fortunately on a weekend) not long after I brought my little demons home, they discovered that the door into the garage no longer latched completely. Oh joy!! Off they went, darting down the rocky road while I remained ignorantly blissful inside the house.

The wild ones had not been gone long when I discovered their absence. Heart in my throat, I jogged down the road toward the corner carrying their leashes with me. Then I spotted them rounding the corner from the other direction, merrily trotting along while the man who lives in the house down there followed them in his truck. Oh dear, what kind of trouble had they caused, and could I deny that those hellions were mine?

The puppies led the man in the truck straight back to me, wagging their tails and displaying great delight in their latest antics. He gave me a long look and wordlessly drove off as soon as they were back at my house. I've never talked to that guy since, and I don't even know if he still lives in that house anymore. I figured out how to work the latch on the garage door so that it would remain in place in spite of the dogs's best efforts.

Tasha and Hannah were eventually comfortable in the crates so I could keep them there when needed. They never settled down enough to ever be allowed free at the same time in an unfenced area, though. Hannah could scale fences, although Tasha never learned this wonderful talent! Fortunately, neither went very far without the other.

A visual break from winter

2010-02-02T18:53:00.002-05:00

I'm beyond tired of winter. I'm seriously searching for a job in the South now, preferably closer to my family. I need a break from endless vistas of dull brown, grey, and white.

So here are some pictures from my trip to Florida in October 2008. One of my brothers lives not far from Clearwater, and he (finally) tied the knot with his long-time girlfriend. I think they had been dating at least 10 years by that point. My parents, sisters (I have 3), and one other brother attended, as well as an Aunt and Uncle who live down the road from my married sister and another Aunt from eastern Indiana (got that?). Of course my sister had her husband and adorable daughter with her.

Tom and his fiancee Tami were in the process of moving from one house to another around the corner in the same neighborhood. I came for the whole week, since I had never been to Florida before (not even when I lived just a few hours away in Alabama). The plan was for my sister Janice and I to rent a car and explore the area. Janice flew in the day after I did. Janice had previously visited Tom and Tami, so we had to find new places she hadn't yet toured. We would stay with our other relatives as they arrived in the "old" house, which had a small, inviting pool for our use.

The move didn't take place until the middle of the week; in the meantime Tom and Tami were still living in the "old" house with their two beagles. Janice and I shared the king size bed in the spare bedroom.

Day one, Janice and I strolled around St. Petersburg. We enjoyed this boat (read the name):

In case you can't read that, it says "Five O'Clock Somewhere."

We walked out on the top of the Pier and viewed the city skyline.

We also enjoyed a visit to the St. Petersburg beach, a less popular destination than the Clearwater beach just north of it.

Day two Janice and I visited the Clearwater Aquarium and took their aquatic tour. Before our tour we watched our intended captain be packed up and carted away by emergency services. He had some chest pains, although he turned out to be alright. I was amused to note that Mr. Incredible (the Disney character, in case you live in even more of a vacuum than I do) was strapped to the front of one of the fire engines. The boat tour was delayed while a different captain was summoned to man the vessel.

One stop we made on the journey was to a small island composed primarily of sharp shells.

Ignore my hideously white legs. This time we visited the Clearwater beach before heading back.

The next morning, Janice and I explored the aquarium and sponge docks at Tarpan Springs. We enjoyed a Greek lunch (I love Mediterranean food) before returning to the house to swim in the pool for awhile.

Sarah, Levi, Sammie, Aunt Ann, Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Joe arrived that evening. We enjoyed hanging out by the water, drinking and searching for interesting sealife. Sammie spotted a seastar, and Joe (a bit tipsy) slid down the cement embankment to pick it up for her. He also displayed a conch someone else spied.

This was a great location to watch some spectacular sunsets over the water. I already have shared my favorite (on the very first blog post), but here it is again:

My sister Grace arrived with my parents the next day (the day before the wedding). My brother Jim flew in by himself, since his boys had too many activities going on to come with him. His wife remained in Indiana to take care of the boys. We returned to Tarpan Springs to taste some of the interesting wines at two shops there. Joe and Ann wanted to find a good market to purchase some fish for dinner. The afternoon was spent back at Clearwater beach. It was crawling with people. Sammie loved running into the water and being buried in the sparkling white sand.

Tami didn't want a bachelorette party, but my sisters insisted. We ate dinner at a nice restaurant and then hit the bars (the guys were having there own bachelor party). Sarah had each of the women present come up with something for Tami to do, which she wrote on a napkin. Tami very reluctantly participated in the game.

The wedding and reception were held at the house of a friend, across the street from the "old" house. The friend, Donna, was an ordained minister (of what church, I'm not sure), and she performed the lightening fast ceremony. Certainly, that was the quickest wedding I have ever attended. We didn't even realize that it had started until someone pointed out that the participants were already lined up along the deck. The best man and matron of honor said some words, Tom and Tami exchanged vows, they kissed, and that was it.

Back to socializing, drinking, and through the buffet line for dinner. I loved the cake (and certainly ate way too much of it).

Attending family members (a colorful bunch)

There were a few other trips around the area in there, but this post is plenty long enough as it is. I just needed some pictures of warm, sunny days to brighten my mood. Oh, and a dose of cute little Sammie :-)

Baltic Bon Vivant

2010-01-29T17:49:00.002-05:00

My best friend Julie (of Reinbow Valley Farm) is trying to reduce her herd numbers, so I thought I'd promote her Swedish Warmblood mare Vivian (Baltic Bon Vivant) on my blog for her. Vivian was born in 2004 and inspected/ approved/ hip-branded by SWANA in 2005. She's a very solidly built mare and an easy keeper. Here is her Warmbloods for Sale ad. There is a video of her on Julie's website.

Vivian is a wonderful mare. I feel honored to have been just the second person to ride her. Even though I'm far from the most experienced equestrian, Vivian took care of me.

Vivian's sire is the SWANA registered, Grand Prix Dressage stallion, L.A. Baltic Sundance. Here is his information on the SWANA website.

L.A. Baltic Sundance, Swedish Warmblood stallion

Vivian's dam was Julie's dressage mount until she was injured and became unrideable. Ursala McMajor was a grey Thoroughbred mare, built like a tank.

Ursala McMajor, Thoroughbred mare

When my sister and her family came to visit, my three year old niece rode in front of Julie on her trusty mount, Vivian. Vivian has been on numerous trail rides. She has packed around children and inexperienced riders. She has also been used to pony my Caly girl when I was trying to get Caly to go down the road for the first time under saddle. She is very responsive and ready for low level dressage competition. She has also been schooling some higher level dressage moves. Here are some more pictures of this awesome mare.

Adorable baby Vivian

Vivian after inspection and branding

Our friend Deb riding Vivian in Sept 2009

My niece Sammie in front of Julie, Sept 2009

Me, driving Vivian July 2009

Pony rides on Vivian and Kate, July 2009

Julie and Vivian at Cunningham Lake, Aug 2009

I had better stop or I'll be posting pictures of Vivian all day! So if you know anyone looking for a talented dressage (or jumping) candidate with a solid educational base, this is your lady! Contact Julie or send me a message for more information.

Phoenix is back up for sale

2010-01-26T18:38:00.001-05:00

I'm not ready to post about my beautiful bay girl yet. I'm still trying to distract myself from thinking too much about what happened.

Instead, I am passing the word that the lovely Arabian mare I sold back in August to a lady named Shannon from Adel, IA, is back up for sale. Shannon told me that her situation has changed, and she has to move from the farm she lives on currently with her two girls and three horses. I really appreciated her contacting me to give me the first option of buying back such a sweet mare.

Unfortunately, this is a familiar story in the rough economy we face today. I hope my situation is resolved before I have to seek desperate measures of my own.

I told Shannon I would help in any way I possibly can to find a wonderful home for Phoenix (now Bella). Shannon said there wasn't a rush; she has Phoenix pasture boarded at a friend's house for now. I'm not sure how much she is asking for Phoenix, but if anyone is interested/knows of anyone interested, I can always relay the information.

Basic information on Phoenix:
1999 chestnut Arabian mare
registered AHA as Praire Park Gerri (I know, I know, very unfortunate name)
previous posts with some background/breeding information here and here

This mare really is a nice girl, but she needs a lighter rider (which is why I sold her). A light adult or intermediate child would be great for her. She has been on many trail rides and was bred for endurance. Like most Arabs, she has a lot of "go," so she needs a rider confident enough to handle that. She is very level headed and not spooky at all. Not a mean bone in her body, but she is an alpha mare, so she needs someone assertive enough to remind her of her manners on the ground.

Here are some photos from past trail rides I shared with Phoenix:

Friday Before Mother's Day Ride (FBMDR) 2009, Valparaiso, NE - love the cute fuzzy ears!

Loess Hills Saddle Club Ride, Preparation Canyon (Moorhead, IA), September 2008

Our first trail ride together at Cunningham Lake (Omaha, NE), August 2008

And some pictures from just riding in the area around my house (Julie on Phoenix, me on Zeplin):

June 2009

August 2009

So please spread the word! This lady deserves a great home!

A tragic end...

2010-01-23T11:13:00.000-05:00

... to the shittiest week of my life. I had my beautiful, sweet Caly euthanized yesterday. She cut her left rear pastern clear through the tendon sheath and into the tendon in a pasture accident (I haven't figured out exactly where/how yet). I can't write much about this now, the pain is still too fresh and raw. I just wanted to make note of the date so that I would never forget it.

Thanks to Janet and Chuck for helping me get Caly to the clinic and staying with me through the heartbreaking desicion. The staff at the Nebraska Equine Veterinary Clinic was wonderful.

I especially want to thank Julie for leaving work to be with me and say her own goodbyes to my gorgeous bay mare. I know you loved her just as much as I did, Julie, and I know you are hurting, too.

Rest in peace, my wonderful Caly girl.

Calypso (Caly) July 31, 2006 - January 22, 2010

When it rains, it pours

2010-01-21T15:54:00.000-05:00

I don't want my blog to turn into an endless stream of complaints and issues, so this will just be a brief note on the latest calamities in the catastrophe that is my life. Last night, the truck wouldn't start. Had to find a mechanic who could come out after 8 pm to get it started. Too much rust build up/corrosion on the starter, so the cable wasn't making contact. Got it started by tapping with a hammer. Followed mechanic to his house so he could take the starter off and grind off the rust. Way overpriced, but my truck starts now (but he said I need to get all the rust on the underside of my truck checked out soon). At least I found someone who could work on my truck late in the evening. Didn't get home until after midnight.

When I arrived home (finally), the power was out. No heat, no water (electric pump). I threw the horses their hay and went to bed. Power was still out this morning when I woke up. The electric co-op informed me that they had called in help from around the state and Missouri to try to get everything up and running. Power outtage most likely caused by all the ice build up everywhere. My yard is a sloggy, icy, mucky, manure-covered mess. Melting snow and crunching ice underfoot. Had to dodge ice falling in large chunks from the trees.

No power yet when I left for work--I waited until after eleven because I was hoping to be able to fill the horses's water tank. If I don't have power by the time I get home tonight, I'm going to have to locate a source of water for all of my animals.

Winter can't be over soon enough!!

Having a hay day

2010-01-20T19:40:00.000-05:00

This winter it's been problematic trying to find a source of round bales of horse hay that can be delivered. Economically and storage-wise, I prefer to feed the big rounds all winter to my hairy nags. I purchased five bales back at the end of September, but the grower turned out to be very dishonest. He advertised one price, it was more when I called (the advertised price was for "cattle hay" he said), and by the time he reached my house the price had gone up yet again. Delivery cost also had increased from what I was quoted on the phone. The quality of hay wasn't as nice as I was led to believe. Overall, the experience left a very sour taste in my mouth, and I didn't purchase anymore hay from him.

I utilized all of my normal pathways to continue my search for round bales. While I found plenty of big rounds for sale, no one offered delivery. One guy advised that I rent a trailer and pick it up myself. In theory, that doesn't sound too unreasonable. The associated costs add up quickly, however. My truck is only a half ton, so it is certainly not designed to pull more than one heavy round bale at a time without straining the transmission (maybe two if they are smaller). That would mean anywhere from three to five trips back and forth to deliver the hay to my house. The grower's place was located 60 miles south of my house. Any way I looked at it, the logistics didn't pan out.

Meanwhile, with near-record low temperatures and a few blizzards, my furry kids burned through five bales in no time (and what they didn't eat was quickly buried in snow). I needed to pick up the tempo of my fruitless round bale search. I called even more random strangers as well as good friends who also had horses. Have I ever mentioned before that I hate cold calling strange people? Part of my social anxiety.

Having no luck on the big round quest, I contacted the hay guy (Bill) for one of my friends and arranged to have some squares of brome and some of alfalfa delivered to tide me over. I had Bill offload my last batch of hay at the end of the driveway where it was cleared of snow. The ponies were able to break out a couple times by reaching over the electric wire in their desire to raid the hay supply. My electric fence had been rendered useless by piles of snow burying the wire in various locations. My roundpen was also out of commission due to a huge mountainous drift that covered more than 75% of the pen and blocked the gate from closing, so I couldn't shove the horses in there for holding. I'd never seen so much snow since I moved into my house.

I reinforced the area of fence by the hay with a couple more wires. Damn smart ponies.

That hay didn't last long, and I had yet to locate what I needed for the rest of the winter.The ponies had to eat. In desperating I called Bill again, and he had a solution for me. He would bring over his Bobcat and clear out my roundpen so that we could place square bales there, out of the reach of the horses and not tempting them to trample over the fence. Some hay would go in the garage so that it wouldn't spoil in the spring thaw.

If you look up the definition of "lifesaver" in the dictionary, I'm sure you will see Bill's name there.

Bill's word was good as gold. This past Sunday he brought his crew of two nephews and one other relative (can't remember the relation) as well as his cute little four year old boy, Austin. The Bobcat scoffed at the challenges presented by high, heavy snow drifts. In no time at all my roundpen was again functional. Most of the hay fit on a tarp in the garage. It's amazing how quickly the work went by with plenty of help!

Now I'm set for the rest of the winter. It did cost a lot more than using round bales, but I don't have to worry about this hay disappearing under layers of snow. Bill's square bale prices were extremely reasonable for the area, and each bale was very heavy and with sweet-smelling grass. I purchased 2/3rds as grass hay and the other third as alfalfa. If I'm still here next winter, Bill will definitely be my hay guy (although I'll ask him to package rounds for me).

Sometimes life goes flat...

2010-01-20T17:12:00.003-05:00

I had every intention of posting about my weekend yesterday. Things changed, however, when I ran over a metal object in the road (a wrench?) on my way to work in the morning. KU-CHUNK!! "Oh, crap!" I thought fleetingly, "I hope that doesn't give me a flat."

Wishful thinking.

Whump, whump, whump, whump! The noise in the cab crescendoed as my front driver's side tire rapidly bled out precious air. Since I was almost at work, I coaxed my limping vehicle to the parking lot and pulled into the first available spot I found. Fortunately, it was at the end of the row, so no one would park next to me.

This is never a welcome site. My truck's full size spare was already in use, having replaced a different flat last March. I had checked over that tire previously and determined the damage was due to a simple nail. An easy fix, it just needed a patch.

Of course, lazy me, I had yet to take the tire in to have it patched.

Now there wasn't a choice. I had to fix up my only other tire. "Well," I thought, "if I get this taken care of quickly, I can still get some work done today."

Haha!!! Keep dreaming, Cindy!!

Murphy's Law states that "anything that can go wrong will go wrong." Hence the flat tire.

However, an little known addendum to Murphy's Law, the Krazy Cindy Clause, adds that "anything that should have a simple fix will always become extremely complicated." Never heard of that clause? Well, let me explain.

My friend Sudhir took me to the tire shop where I purchased my truck's set brand new about a year and a half ago. They told me to come back later in the afternoon, and it would be repaired. We returned, picked up the tire, and I paid for the inexpensive repair.

Sudhir had never changed a flat before, and I only had the pathetic jack and tire iron that came with my truck. Those kits aren't particularly exceptional. I contacted a friend who told me he had a REAL jack and had changed many tires himself. Basically, he was pretty well qualified for a job with NASCAR.

My friend Matt arrived promptly as we were getting back from picking up the tire. He pulled up, jacked up the truck, and expertly removed the cap and lug nuts. So far so good. Matt grasped the wheel firmly and pulled hard.

The tire didn't budge.

Matt exerted more force. Still nothing.

Out came the hammer. Tap, tap, tap all around the rim to try to loosen the wheel's grip on the axel. Another attempt with bare hands to yank the tire free.

Not even a wobble. The tire was fixed fast.

"Do you have any WD-40?" Matt asked. Well, I did at home, but that didn't help any. I tried to think what might be on hand in the truck. "We can try windshield washer fluid," he said.

After dousing the bolts and rim in washer fluid, Matt and Sudhir attempted again to pull off the tire.

A reluctant bovine could've taken lessons from that stubborn tire.

"There might be something in the lab," I told Matt. I tried to think of something I might use at work that could loosen the tire. Maybe the grease for the tissue homogenizer? Sudhir and I drove around to the back of the building and parted ways, each going to search in our respective labs.

Sudhir hit the jackpot with a gallon size container of WD-40 as well as a small spray container. Back to where we had abandoned Matt to wrestle with that damn tire.

We generously applied WD-40 all over the bolts and rim of the tire, anywhere it remained attached to the truck axle. After allowing some soaking time, Matt and Sudhir again tackled the recalcitrant wheel.

Nada.

More tapping with the hammer, liberal spraying of WD-40, and heavily engaged muscle power.

The tire laughed and remained glued to the axle.

Time for the big guns. We wrapped a cloth tow rope around the spokes of the wheel and attached it to the hitch ball of Matt's little Ranger. He slowly accelerated, applying pressure gradually and consistently along the length of the rope.

The jack wobbled and the truck threatened to slide right off its tentative hold. Matt halted his efforts and we regrouped to consider the problem. Matt called his mechanic friend for suggestions.

The solution, said Mr. Mechanic to Matt, was a BFH. Big Fucking Hammer.

As we did not have a BFH with us, just the standard sized one Matt brought, Matt and Sudhir took turns whacking the back of the wheel with our only weapon. After several forceful blows, the tire would be rotated several degrees, and the pounding would resume. Debris and heavy crud loosened and fell from around the rim.

And then... success!! The tire budged a small fraction!

With renewed vigor, Matt and Sudhir continued their assault on my truck's obstinate wheel. Eventually, with much protest on the part of the tire, it parted company with my truck's front axle.

I think all in all it "only" took about an hour and a half to change out the flat tire. So much for Matt's future NASCAR career.

The end result was a freshly patched tire on the truck's axle and a newly destroyed flat in the truck's bed.

Matt and Sudhir, I really appreciated all of your help. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I don't need it again anytime soon.