Where to Start?!

This morning I had a mini meltdown. It wasn't so mini as it was overly dramatic. I was close to tears and puppy kicking due to a terrible mix of a 14+ hour work day/night, lack of a nap (or much sleep), no rain, and no plan. I hit the sheets at about 4:30 am and woke up bright and early at 8:30, which my dogs will tell you, that is sleeping in. After convincing myself to lay in bed for an extra half hour I hopped up and Kiba and I took a trip out to the barn.

The weatherman has led us to believe we are about to enter monsoon season with much enthusiasm. For over a week the forecast has convinced us that Saturday is the day heaven's flood gates will reign down water like Niagra Falls has never seen, that thunder and lightning will ensue and we will be stuck inside for fear of becoming a human lightning rod, and this torrential downpour will last a full week. This has proven to be not so much untrue as an outright, blatant lie. This morning, as I made my groggy way to the barn in the 100% humidity, there were maybe three clouds in the sky. Yet when I checked my handy dandy weather ap on my phone it basically shouted at me, "STOP CHECKING ME. IT'S GOING TO RAIN, LIKE, ANY MOMENT NOW. JUST BE PATIENT."

I mentioned I was cranky partly because I didn't have a plan. That's untrue. I was cranky because my plan was to wake up several times in the middle of the night with terrified dogs in my bed because of the loud crashes of thunder outside. It was to let them outside to go potty and have 2 feet of water pour into my house from the 24 inches of rain we had received in the 4 hours since I went to sleep. It was to be forced to stay inside and do all of the things I haven't been able to do because the beautiful weather outside has been calling my name. It did come with the backup plan of, "If it, for some crazy reason, ISN'T raining when I wake up, I'll sneak out to the barn to ride before this week of El Nino."

So the conclusion we can all draw is that I had to go to the backup plan of riding this morning because the only water outside was the humidity you could almost see hanging in the air. The other conclusion some might draw is that the weatherman was receiving a vast majority of my ill intended wishes. As I arrived at the barn, after picking up feed and supplements, it was almost 10. There were errands to run, lunch to eat, and the ever important nap to attempt and yet again fail at. I wanted to be home by noon but with three horses to ride and feed and stalls to clean it was inevitably impossible.

Why am I boring you with this story of my unimportantly busy day, you are probably asking? Because today I had to realize something. I will probably continue to have to realize this same thing a few more times for it to sink in, but it was monumental that I even grasped this concept. I can't do everything. While that seems really basic and kind of dumb, which is true, I have obviously been missing the idea that I am only one person.

Dreaming of a rainy day!

I have these huge plans for the boys. Shows, trailering/traveling, clinics, ribbons, training rides, lessons, exercise schedules, perfect health (for me and them), abundant time, etc. I took a huge breath today and asked myself, "Does it REALLY matter if Panda is the only horse I ride today?" And then some voice somewhere, cause believe me it wasn't mine, mine would never say this, answered me, "No! It totally doesn't. Relax!" I've been in such a hurry to pick up where I left off 6 years ago that I've unknowingly been taking it out on the boys and myself. A misstep here, a poor jump there and I feel like my plans and world are falling down.

Please don't misunderstand me, I have huge plans still. And I also think we all know that if each horse got ridden every day we would move forward a lot faster and be ready sooner. But if the boys are all ready to show next month that still leaves the problem of the trailer, the money to show, the shows to enter, the equipment I am lacking, my trainer's time, etc. Those are huge and important necessities in this game we call horse showing. I want to be great, and I desire nothing less than greatness for the horses too, but if our path to greatness takes a few days off every now and then to allow me, the trainer/rider/groom/crazy lady with the dreams/stall cleaner/mom, to have a moment of peace and accomplish the other things in life that continue to pile up, then so be it. Unfortunately I am not a professional rider or stay at home horse mom so that I can devote every waking hour to my passion. Not yet.

Gotta start somewhere!

I need to realize that just because my dream isn't happening or accomplished tomorrow doesn't mean I'm failing. It's going to take a long time, longer than a few days or even a few months or years. So unless I want my goal in life to be making it to Target to get Jesse a new dog bed and filling my car up with gas, it will not be plausible to accomplish it tomorrow. In Denny Emerson's book, "How Good Riders Get Good" he talks about making choices that continue to get you closer and closer to your end goal. Those are things I can accomplish daily or weekly and those are the things I need to look at to be reassured that I'm on the right path.

"The journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step." If you don't ever start you won't ever get there.

Dealing With Barn Drama

People are like chemicals, they're colorful, smell different, and it's super fun to put them together, stir them up, and see how they react. One explosion every once in a while is fun, 2+ close together and it gets dangerous.

If you live your life in a non-emo non-depressing way or even if you come out of your room once in a blue moon to interact with your family, you've been a part of this sometimes lethal concoction. A barn is no different than any other life situation except that you have a bunch of know-it-alls who are right. No matter what. So what I'm saying is, it's 10 times worse than most situations you might encounter in every day life. Factor in the whole "self care" idea and you're playing with fire.

There are a million ways to skin a cat. There are also a million ways to brush your teeth, eat your cereal, walk your dog, drive your car, play uno with friends, change your fish's water, and get to the center of a tootsie pop. What I'm trying to say is, everyone does stuff with their horses differently. So when Fred sees Sally feed Tonto 2 scoops of 10% sweet feed mixed with rice bran, Fred tells Mary, Andrew, Eduardo and Victor how Tonto is starving and malnourished because he needs 12% pellet with alfalfa pellets. Since they think Tonto needs Vegetable oil, Red Cell, Beat Pulp, and 14% respectively, they agree that Tonto is going to die very soon and thus, drama ensues.

Besides feeding, other things that can cause issues are training styles. While the Western guys and the ladies who ride English tend not to make recommendations across disciplines, within saddle choice there are a lot of ideas buzzing around. Jerk this way, soft hands that way, kick now, wrap his tail up so he doesn't have to be embarrassed of that short thing, change the color of his bridle, turn right before turning left, rub his right ear three times, whatever you do, DON'T PUSH HIM!

Then of course, at a self care place, you run the risk of arguments over cleanliness. Rolling up hoses, sweeping aisles, how often one cleans their stall, untidy tack, stinky water buckets, and left wheelbarrows start a lot of problems. Then you've got those special people that think grooming needs to happen twice a day and your horse is abused because you skipped a day. Or you didn't put its blanket on or turn it out for at least 2.65 hours (which is of course, the scientifically determined amount of time a horse needs to be out in the sun per day. 4.32 hours in the winter. I hope you don't believe me).

Barn drama is best dealt with by caring what other people think of you and doing everything in your power to make everyone happy. Since that is a terrible way to live your life and you will end up making your horse colic trying to feed them off everyone's recommendations, my suggestion is to blow this idea off. The second best idea is to not voice your opinions. HA! That should be funnier to you than the first idea. We are all aware that animal people are the most outspoken breed of person on earth. We can, however, modify this approach to make it work. If you must put something into words, make sure those words are able to be summed up and repeated (by you) to the person of whom you have an opinion. Seriously. It works. Because seriously, it's going to be repeated in some way shape or form to that same person.

For the record, the absolute worst way (or two) to deal with barn drama is to internalize it (you'll only get more mad) or to pick a fight. I would never in a million years suggest to you to go up to a person at the barn and tell them they have an ugly pony, or their stall is too dirty, or their saddle is in the wrong place or their boots are the wrong brand. Definitely don't do that. But if you want to, film it. Please.

Keep grooming areas tidy to minimize grumpiness!

Stop Putting The Horses On The Trailers!!

We no longer live in the age of the pioneer, where horses are our main mode of transportation and we live within riding distance of anything we may need. At this point, riding a horse many places that are not made for riding horses can be pretty dangerous. Mainly because cars are much larger, louder and faster than our spooky pony friends and I've never heard of any pleasant experiences when people or horses get hit by moving vehicles. This makes trailering horses more of a necessity than a luxury.

Since I've been at the barn we've had several reasons to use a trailer, and with my plans for the future, we will have to use a trailer a whole bunch more.

Ironically, scaredy pants Cash took the path of least resistance when it came to trailer time. Well, if you call the path of least resistance me, getting lost in his wooded 100+ acre pasture for 1.5 hours and having to get a search party of tiny girls on horses with buckets of feed to find and catch him. Once all that was over then, by golly, he was a dream to load! He barely looked at the stock trailer before doing a graceful 8 inch step on to be carted away to his new home.

I didn't have to experience Marvel's trailer load to arrive at the barn but I did get to load him up to take him to the vet to be neutered. I don't know if he knew that's why he was getting on the trailer and that caused him to act up a bit or if he didn't want to leave his fun new home (That totally has to be it right?!) but he was a bit of a pain in the neck. He didn't WANT to get on the trailer. He wasn't particularly frightened of it, but, I mean, as long as I was asking, his answer was a resounding no. He toyed with my emotions by sticking his head in the trailer, to which I shouted, "Good BOY!" then backing up 3 steps past where he was before he did that. Then he stepped a foot on and we repeated the process. Then both front feet. Then a back foot. Finally he walked right on the trailer, possibly due to becoming bored of the game or annoyed at my silly happy dance. PS, he tried to play this same game when we loaded back up on the trailer but he didn't anticipate two 300 pound men locking arms behind his hiney and taking this game from A to Z in record time.

Now comes the fun. Panda. Panda, panda, panda. We were waiting weeks for this horse. There was always something so we decided, "Carpe Diem. Why do tomorrow what you can do today. I can do anything better than you. I want it now. Just do it." and we hopped in the car to grab him. For a full explanation of why we almost shot ourselves square between the eyes see my article entitled "Panda." In short, this horse was playing a whole different game than Marvel, but it was still a game, and it lasted close to 3 hours. This game was called the "Why? Make me!" game. Similar to the, "I don't have to, you're not my real mom!" game, here we have the horse questioning our judgment and opting for the easy way out because that opportunity has always been open to him. Eventually, with a bit of food (fatty McFatty pants loves him some grain) the horse was non-traumatically placed on the trailer.

Jelly Bean gets an honorable mention here. When we decided to seize the day, we took it for all it was worth. Jelly loaded up on the trailer with less todo than Cash. We took her to go get Panda and she had to load on the trailer twice! She was a pro both times. We had a little moment where coaxing, and then scary thing waving, commenced but honestly no real problems were had. Especially considering this weird older man she'd never met was bumping bottoms with her in the trailer all the way home.

Last, and in no way least (because let's face it, we don't want her to try and outdo herself) we have Indie. I was not fortunate enough to be present during this event but I will sum up the events in the way they were relayed to me as best I can. She was ready to go when they arrived, trailer doors come open, but instead of games, she was real live legitimately terrified of this moving horse killer. Many hours of attempting to load the horse on the trailer the ladies were asked to step away from the trailer and let the menfolk handle the situation. Sometime after this point blood was shed. A lot of blood. All down the front of her face. Apparently she reared up and split her head open, from the middle of her forelock to the middle of her nose, down to the bone. The best part is that she wasn't on the trailer when she did this, but it did knock some sense into her and after that she loaded right up. All joking aside, this required some pretty immediate veterinary attention and some pretty long term desensitization. PS, she healed up great and is being ridden like a champ!

So if there is one thing, no, maybe 2, that my readers can take away from this article I would have to say:

1. Please, we are begging you, from the bottom most parts of our heart and pocket books, PUH-LEEEEEEZ practice loading your horses up. Honestly.
2. When you go to look at a horse, have them PROVE to you that they can load the horse on a trailer. Panda was not worth what was paid due to the heartache we did endure and will continue to endure. Indie had so many vet bills after this incident that could've been avoided. If the horse can't load in a trailer and you want it to be a show horse have them both drop the price and work with the horse (I promise, it's not going anywhere soon. :P). It is ridiculous for people to look over this extremely relevant bit of training.

So maybe don't stop putting the horses on the trailers, stop NOT putting the horses on the trailers!

Indie, before getting stitched up by our local vet.

1 if by light, 2 if by wind: The blankets are coming. THE BLANKETS ARE COMING!

Today was overly and excessively busy for me. On top of working, many, many, MANY things had to be done at the barn. The farrier came out to do about 15 horse's feet, stalls needed cleaning, today was my day to feed an extra three horses that Amanda, Brooke and I are watching for some friends, I had a lesson to teach, I meant to (but did not get around to it) put some more shavings in the stalls, and I made sure the horses' blankets fit.

That last one was, like, mega importante to accomplish today. Just a week ago (MAYBE a week and a half ago) we were all thinking about buzzing our heads and riding in short shorts. I was sweating while giving my horses a bath. The humidity was proving to everyone, through me, that white girls really can have fros.

Somehow, there was a day where it got to be in the 80s last week, and by 80s I mean it was 88. The boys decided that it would be an epically good opportunity to grow in their whole winter coat instantly. Literally one day I was admiring their pretty little sleek summer coats and the next day I show up and Cash is poofed out like a scared cat surrounded by 20 vicious dogs, Panda has hair you can run a human hair brush through, and Marvel has regular length hair (I swear in the summer that horse is so sleek he's bald).

I don't know if this growth of hair is somehow a way to get back at me for all the brushing I've been doing during the rainy days but I am not a fan. Their hair is at that length where when you curry them, the dust just leaves curry trails under the hair that you can't remove. Marvel's tail is full of static. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?! If not brushing them every day will convince them to not Wooly Mammoth out every winter, I will lay off!

So today I roll up, blankets in hand(s), ready to wrap my horses in snuggly warmness that, at this point, is probably unnecessary. Especially seeing as 2 out of the 3 of them lived outside for a majority of their lives. Each horse presented an interesting set of issues, making this blanketing thing a pain in my rear end and schedule.

Marvel made me chase him around the stall a few times (AH! Scary blanket monster! Mom, come quick! WAIT, THE BLANKET MONSTER HAS EATEN MOM!). After a few traumatic moments the blanket was fit snugly on Marvel and I found out that one of the stomach straps is completely gone. Then I thought I forgot the leg straps and almost gave up. Alas, I don't give myself enough credit and found the leg straps in the bag I brought his blanket in. One horse down.

Panda was the easiest of the three. He stood there and ate his food as I blanketed him like a champ. Then he showed off his bootyliciousness (his bum was popping out of the blanket a bit) so I had to make a few minor adjustments. Big horse hiney aside, we had no other mishaps. Two horses down, one more to go.

I don't really know why I thought I would get anywhere quickly with Cash. I walked him in the barn and he flipped out up, down and sideways at the blanket bags lying in the aisle. Then, his blanket is the kind that you put their head through the neck hole. Why would anyone ever design a blanket this way? Honestly. What horse is automatically like, "Yes, I would so enjoy you putting a tent like object that makes scary noises and looks like a black hole of death over and around my head so that I cannot see for more than a split second." Not only all of that, but it had to fit only my most scared horse. So in I come, terrifying blanket in hand. Cash backs around the stall faster than I've ever seen him move, keeping his bottom toward the blanket and I. This put me in real fear for my life momentarily but he did eventually take a long rattling breath and face me. He thought he was about to be eaten by this thing, I really believe that. As I made my slow way toward him he decided to just stand there. I don't know why and I certainly didn't expect it but as soon as I reached him he let me throw the horse eating monster over his head and strap it on him. Granted, he didn't move a muscle more likely because he was frozen in fear than trusting me not to kill him, but he still let me put it on him. I hope this didn't set me down a couple notches in the trust category but as soon as I left the stall he started eating dinner again so I think he is ok.

I was later told that light, rather than weather, is the cause of horses growing their winter coats. So this whole time that it's been getting darker earlier has messed with their internal hair clock and advised them to fluff out a month or two earlier than necessary. I'm not sure what I believe but if it's going to be in the 50s at night, they are going to have blankets on. No matter how many times I have to give Cash a heart attack or chase Marvel around his stall.

Indie, Brooke's horse, being a great model!

Germs and You; an in Depth Look at Why I'll Live Longer Than You

As I was making lunch today (after a trip to the barn and half a day of work) I noticed an excessive amount of dirt under my fingernails. Looking back on the day to that point I realized I had eaten popcorn, a muffin, a jolly rancher, goldfish and peanuts. Aside from how to curb my never ending appetite, I also wondered what that dirt was comprised of and how long it had been there.

As a bit of a back story. I am super duper OCD/germaphobe to the max. I can't deal with any type of human hair (dog and horse hair are not the end of the world) or slobber. I have close to 20 different bottles of lotion strategically placed throughout my house and purse because dry skin makes me grumpy. Dirty feet are the very tip of the end of the world. Don't mess with me if I have dirty feet. You've been warned.

So back to lunch and pondering the extent of the dirt under my fingernails... That dirt could contain E. coli! It could contain fecal matter (actually, that's almost a guarantee seeing as I was at the barn). There's a possibility I might die.

Then I sat there, eating Doritos with my still dirty fingernails, and thought. How many times have I cleaned a stall and eaten a sandwich directly afterwards? A lot of times. A WHOLE lot of times. Then there are those times when I was grooming my horse before a show and it was NOT ok for any dirt to be on him at all, but me and my hands filled with cheez-its were filthy with a week of whatever was in his stall and turnout.

Then there are those barn BBQ days where I couldn't even tell you what comprised the dirt staining my clothes and not coming off my hands. All I know is the BBQ tasted great and I don't know how the taste would've changed with clean hands! Not to mention all the flies landing on my food. I hope it's not true that they poo every time they land but if it is true... Actually, let's not think of that.

Horses add a lot of benefits to our lives. Mostly it's emotional along with building muscle and confidence. One of my benefits is constitutional. My immune system knows how to fight a LOT of different kinds of dirt and mud (unfortunately this probably includes poo). I don't know when else my immune system might encounter poo but rest assured, if it does, I'll live at least 15 minutes longer than a non-horse person. And 15 minutes is plenty of time for a quick ride!

Jesse's paw prints in the sand. Or that's what I hope it is...

Not All Things With 4 Legs at a Barn Are Horses

Jesse is the newest canine addition to my ever growing menagerie of a family. She is a 9 month old German Shepherd with the energy of a nuclear reactor. Like she pretty much puts off clouds of excess energy because she's got too much to store within herself. She has HUGE paws but forgot that she needed to keep growing so we've got a miniature German Shepherd with paws bigger than Kiba, my 100+ pound Shepherd.

I initially brought her to the barn to let her run off a bit of steam and help her sleep at night. Within a week she had buns of steel and biceps/shoulders a body builder would be jealous of from how much she ran. So I screwed the pooch on that one. Not only did she get in great shape which means she needs MORE running time to make her tired, she also eats about as much as both adult dogs put together.

Jesse has gone through some learning phases already and has experienced each and every one at the barn. The first and easiest phase to make it through was the "Everything is freaking scary" stage. Mom! That horse breathed at me! Mom, I think I saw a mouse! Mom, when I put my foot in that dirt it was wet and got on my leg! Mom, Ma, Mamma, Mommy! The poor dog got stepped on so much by running under my feet I guess it's not a wonder that her paws are the size of dinner plates.

The next phase she came to was the exploration phase. Once she realized that nothing was out to kill her and dance on her mangled body, she went polar opposite in her attitude and decided everything must be explored! Jesse the conquistador. Kids were cool, horses were big dogs (or she was a small horse), mud was cool and comfortable, and mice were fun to chase! She never let me too far out of her sight/range of hearing, but she gnawed off the umbilical cord and became her own dog.

The most embarrassing phase she's gone through is the racism phase. All dogs go through this phase, some are more noticeable than others. Our barn is diverse and multicultural/ethnic which I really like. One day it's like Jesse had explored everything, turned her attention to a Hispanic man she'd been around tons of times before and lost her mind. I don't know if she's freaked out that not everyone looks like mommy and daddy but I was beyond embarrassed. I was as embarrassed as those parents whose children ask if a larger lady is pregnant or if a teenager with acne has been bit by mosquitos. Mortified. We aren't quite out of this phase yet.

Right now we are in the rebellious, "I do what I want, you're not my real mom" phase. I wasn't ready for this phase yet. I was in denial about the arrival of this phase. I was hoping she was so happy-go-lucky that she would skirt this phase and we'd be through it in days. Wrong. This independent, hard headed, happy, and energetic puppy bull dozed into this phase with as much gusto as she bull dozes over my shoes in the hallway (I think she aims at them). She not only thinks horses want to play with her at all times and trots barely a step in front of them when they're being ridden, she now turns around and barks at their noses. She doesn't come when I call her, in fact, when I call her she acknowledges me and runs in the opposite direction. She eats horse feed after being scolded not to. She doesn't get in her kennel when told. She still barks at people of other ethnicities. She annoys the other dogs at the barn by pouncing on their sleeping bodies. And she does all of this and runs her head off for 6 hours straight at the barn!

She's great to help desensitize the horses and it's awesome to watch her air-headed acrobatics when chasing a dragonfly. She's always so happy which I envy and love very much. But I am just not ready to accept my innocent puppy has turned into a manipulative monster of a free thinking dog. Unfortunately, if I want to bring her to the barn for much longer and if she enjoys being out there, a "Come to Jesus" meeting must be had between her and I and our trusty friend, the E-Collar. There can be no nipping of heels or barking at horses.

E-Collar, meet Jesse. Jesse, meet the new version of a spanking that will blow your mind cause I don't have to be within arm's reach.

5 Month Update on Marvel

Marvel is an incredible horse. He arrived around 5 months ago as a 5 year old stallion with, from what I understand, no real training other than being a racehorse. His feet had been left untrimmed for an unknown amount of time and he had splay feet. A friend of mine had him and fixed him up quite a bit but there was a long road ahead of us.

5 days after he arrived he made a trip to A&M to be gelded. He also got his feet trimmed by their farrier. Between recovery time and his short toes, I wasn't able to ride him for almost a month. Finally I was able to ride him and we took it slow. I honestly don't remember those first few rides other than the fact that we stayed in the small arena and stuck to walking and trotting. I was expecting him to grab the bit at the trot and try to run. I was expecting to have to rewire his brain to think slow instead of fast. What I did not expect was his nice, slow trot with decently low head carriage.

I remember the day I decided to canter him. I gritted my teeth and got ready for the worst. I asked him. And asked him and asked him and asked him and we trotted quickly but there was no cantering. A slow racehorse?! Well, turns out, when you smack him in the butt (with a crop or your hand) he likes to buck. Not a lot and not big, but he does like to buck. Those first few times at the canter were interesting to say the least. No steering, no leads, no balance. It was basically a baby horse doing his best to canter with a rider on him.

Some other things we had to work through were his trips. He could not figure out where his feet were. I thought at first it was the bell boots but then quickly realized it was just me. Me being on him and trying to direct him was too much for his baby horse brain. He tried so hard to listen and do what I asked but then he would forget how to move.

We also haven't had jumps for very long so we were crafting make-shift jumps out of barrels and poles. We worked on trot poles and Xs for a long time. He did not understand what to do with two poles close together on the ground. His first jump he took off bucking afterwards because he was so excited he jumped it!


Presently we are w/t/c without too many trips. Unfortunately he is his mother's son and she (me) can't walk and chew gum at the same time. So I'm not really expecting perfection on this front. He has jumped up to 2'6" or 2'9" and is currently working on lines and oxers. He is a wiggle worm in the line and puts in about 2 extra strides just moving side to side. With extra fitness and feed the bucks haven't gone away. In fact, when you ask him to go fast he takes that as his cue to kick his feet up and get frisky. His newest habit is jerking his head down on the back side of a big jump. :/ Mom is not enthused.

I've definitely learned a lot and taught him some really strange things without meaning to. My first horse, and I didn't realize this at the time, I didn't not have to "ride" him toward and over the jumps. I didn't ever think of him as a point and shoot horse but compared to Marvel he definitely was. I have to put leg on to the base of every jump every time no exceptions. Mostly probably because he is a baby but he has a lazy personality too and will always choose the easy way out.

Somehow I've taught him that after we canter or jump we stop. Or at least he put two and two together to mean that in his head. So transitions are in our very near future. We're also working on getting him on the bit but that's a story for another day. We've got a long way to go but for really only riding him for 3 months, he's made leaps and bounds of progress. We get along so well and he's got such a good head and heart. With his splay feet I still don't know how far he will be able to go, but we will find out together. We are now enrolled in weekly lessons with the owner of the barn, Maggie, so we've got someone to put eyes on us and help us get as far as she can.