Shooting Apples

I’ve just come back from a quick but intense video shoot in Vermont. My friend and I are putting together a short project for a non-profit organization called Red Tomato. They help farmers find better distribution outlets and encourage them to use more beneficial ecological growing methods. We spent a wonderful day at Sunrise Orchards, with a great family of apple growers. They work unbelievably hard, with boundless love and enthusiasm for what they produce and for the land.

I was stressed out and nervous to be leaving my mom, my daughter, my old ailing dog and my two gimpy horses while my husband was also out of town. Luckily, my sister-in-law stayed here to help me out. The horses were on their best behavior. She loved taking care of them. So, even though I got home after midnight yesterday, everything was calm and happy here.

Being in the apple orchards was really soothing. There was a sense of the majesty of the horizon, with the mountains in the distance and the incredibly vivid fall colors of the trees. It gave me that same kind of combination grounding and freedom that I feel when I’m out west in New Mexico or the desert.

I ate an insane number of apples - at least a dozen, with a wide and exotic range of flavors. The Hodges, who have three generations of family living on the farm, all said that they never get tired of eating apples. I can understand because I was delighted to come home with a big bag of many varieties and exerted a lot of will power to only eat three Honey Crisps today.

It was interesting to learn that the Red Delicious is the most popular apple in this country. It’s probably the only one that I didn’t like. I think that even the best Red Delicious tastes kind of like a potato, and it’s really sad that most children in the United States associate that flavor as “apple”. I see it as a metaphor for what has become misguidedly important - and what’s wrong- with so many other things in America - It’s valued for its beauty, rejected if it’s blemished, thick skinned and lacking flavor. Still, it’s the one that is held up as the favorite.

I didn’t take many still photos because I was so busy shooting apples on videotape. Luckily, I managed to snap one of my new best friend, a great Golden Retriever named Junior - who is one apple lovin’ dog.

Squirreling Away

I’ve been so busy this past week taking care of my horses’ feet that I’ve hardly noticed anything else around here. Silk is stoic about wearing the rubber medicine boot. Siete lets me put the soft boots on her back feet without anyone else holding her or helping me. I just keep doing what I need to do religiously so that they will heal and get feet as hard or even harder than all those rocks.

So, when I staggered out to the tack room in the dark this morning to get the feed, I found a surprise. We have a family of red squirrels living in the old beech tree on our patio. Apparently, they decided that the tack room, which is under the porch, would be a perfect pantry for the winter. I hang the horse blankets from hooks in the ceiling. The entire wall behind them is piled knee high with chestnuts. One of the red babies was snuggled up in the corner, guarding the goodies. We both jumped when I stepped into the darkness and turned on the light. I tried to get a picture of my little buddy, but those guys are fast.

I don’t want the squirrels to decide to taste the horse blankets after they get tired of eating chestnuts. What do you think? I hate to disturb all that hard work. Maybe I’ll just move the blankets to the other wall and “squirrel proof” the tack room, if that’s possible.

The "R" Word

Let’s talk about rearing. It’s the ultimate “no-no” in the horse world, and most people don’t want anyone to know that their horse has done it. Of course, it’s also very scary and dangerous, whether you’re on the horse or holding onto a lead rope standing next to it. Worst case, which I’ve seen, is that the horse loses its balance and falls on the human. Yet, the reality of rearing is that it’s a natural instinct in a horse.

Both my horses have reared up while I was on the ground holding onto them. The first time, Silk had been injured, and the vet didn’t want me to ride her or let her run free for six months. So, by the fifth month, she was feeling better, and I had a powder keg on my hands. I was hand walking her, without wearing gloves, when she reared up and the lead rope tore all the skin off my right hand. It was intensely painful and for a long time, I was terrified of my horse. Eventually, we both healed, physically and emotionally. Silk has never reared again. I think that she was just so frustrated and didn’t think I could understand what she was trying to tell me.

When Siete was born, I used to joke that her mother told her, “If you want to get our human really freaked out, just rear up.” Sure enough, when my little horse was only a few months old, she reared up and got her leg caught in the lead and slammed down on the ground, bruising her shoulder. Fortunately, it wasn’t a serious injury and she scared herself enough to not do it again for a long time.

Unfortunately, last summer, while we were working with a trainer here in our own backyard, Siete started rearing again. It wasn’t a wild, frantic rearing. It was more dainty, like a circus pony. But, Silk was right. It totally freaked me out. The trainer didn’t know what to do. She asked her “mentor”, who was a very well-respected dressage trainer, what she does when a horse rears. The woman replied, “I sell it.” That was the stupidest response I’d ever heard. I knew that my horse was trying to tell me something and I just couldn’t understand it.

I videotaped the trainer riding her and sure enough, my horse reared again. When I watched it several times, it appeared that she was using her legs, urging Siete to go forward, and at the same time, pulling back on Siete’s mouth. That was the end of that trainer. Soon after, it was also determined that Siete had a bad case of Lyme Disease, which was causing a lot of soreness in her legs. While I was taking care of her illness, I decided that I needed to learn more about what to do when a horse rears.

I discovered that there’s not much helpful advice written about it anywhere. Most books just say it’s very dangerous and you should hire a trainer right away. The most important thing I learned was that when a horse’s feet move forward, it can’t rear. So, if you can catch that moment of anticipation before it happens or if you can push the horse forward while it’s happening, you’ll just have a prancing horse and not a rearing horse. Circling the horse is also good because eventually the horse slows down when it gets dizzy. Most important, and most difficult, if I’m on the ground, I step towards the horse’s shoulder. Every instinct makes me want to jump away, but that actually just gives the horse more room to keep rearing.

Siete doesn’t rear often. I can count the number of times she’s done it. Most recently, in the last week, we’ve had two incidents. One was when she wanted the carrots that my mother was waving at her and I insisted that we had to go into the barn. That time, we were in an open area, and I took a deep breath, stepped towards her shoulder and as her front feet hit the ground, I made her move forward in a circle. It was a huge moment for me, a real milestone.

The second time, again after my mom was waving more carrots, I managed to get Siete back to the barn. She reared when I was in the stall with her and I instantly yanked on the lead rope as hard as I could and yelled at her. She put her head down, licking and chewing. My heart was pounding. The next time I led her into her stall, at that same spot, she thought about it again, but I found some kind of energy force in me that was as strong as I could muster. I could tell that she felt it and backed down. Since then, she’s been calm and everything is normal again.

When I read White Horse Pilgrim’s blog the other day, the subject of rearing was being discussed. An inexperienced owner in the barn where he boards his horses has a fancy dressage horse that has begun rearing. This owner was told to find a young rider, make the horse rear and then beat the horse. How insane is that? There was a great response from JME that really reassured me that I was not alone in my feelings on this subject. The horse is doing what it’s instincts tell it to do when it gets so frustrated that it can’t communicate any other way. The people are the ones who need to take a long hard look at what they are doing to cause the horse to respond this way.

My horses have reared, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to sell them or beat them. I’m going to figure out what’s wrong, try to help them feel safe and find the courage to deal with this scary problem. Horses rear, and rather than act like it’s some kind of shameful black mark against them, it would be more helpful if the “experts” in the horse world gave some good advice about what to do when it happens.

Abscessed Or What?

Woe is me! I don’t even know where to begin on this hoof abscess saga. On Monday night, I noticed that Siete was very sore on her front feet. The right one seemed warm. I bedded her stall heavily and gave her a little Bute. That was about all I could do but I worried all night that she was having a laminitis attack. Tuesday morning, her right front was cool, but her left front was warm. Her back left hoof looked like there might be a return of the abscess from last week.

Grey Horse Matter’s daughter, who is a saint, lent me a pair of soft hoof boots called Soft-Ride. I put some Animalintex pads in one and velcroed it on to Siete’s back left hoof. I gave her a little more Bute. She seemed much happier, but I could tell that the other back foot was bothering her. I decided to wait to put both boots on since John, the farrier, was coming today.

So, what I certainly didn’t expect this morning was that Silk would be completely lame on her front right foot when I went out to the barn. I just fell apart emotionally. When something is wrong with Silk, something is equally wrong with me. As you know, she is my soul sister. I put the other soft boot on her front foot with some Animalintex and kept my fingers crossed that John would find an abscess when he came. All the while, I was walking around trying to figure out what’s causing all these abscesses.

I ran over to my local tack store to see if they had any Animalintex. The owner didn’t, but she told me that she’s been having trouble with abscesses too, and there were a couple of other women in the store who also were there for the same reason. They all told me that with the wet weather, the dirt has drained off the pastures and there are so many stones and rocks. The store owner recommended an iodine based hoof disinfectant and hardener by Sore No More. She swears by it, so I got some.

John, the farrier, is such a good guy. He was gentle and sympathetic and most of all, so fast. I told him that if there was ever a contest for who could trim a hoof the fastest, he’d win. With all these sore feet, he had to be quick because neither horse could balance herself for long. We started with Siete. He reassured me that he didn’t think she was foundering. He found bruises on the soles of both her back feet. He said that she was putting so much weight on her front feet since she couldn’t rest on the back ones that the front ones were sore now. He strongly urged me to use an iodine and sugar slush in the soft boots on both back feet. That’s what we used in Virginia. It draws the abscess and toughens the hoof. So, that’s what I’ve done. Siete isn’t thrilled by it, but she’s got no choice tonight.

Silk was so sore that she could barely walk out of her stall. John couldn’t find an abscess, but I think it’s just up deep inside and will come out through the coronet band. He mentioned navicular, which sent me into a small panic. We decided that if this lameness comes and goes, I need to check out that horrible possibility. Silk was so good. She leaned her head and shoulder on me, pressing her face firmly up against my heart while he worked on the sore foot. I was almost crying because I felt how painful it was for her. Amazingly, she let him trim the other three feet, and he did it so deftly that I was really impressed. She could hardly walk back to her stall. I gave her some Bute and put the clunky rubber medicine boot with Animalintex in it on her front right foot. When I came out to feed the horses their dinner, Silk was in Siete’s stall, seeking comfort from her daughter. As she walked to her own, she was definitely putting more weight on the sore foot so I think the Animalintex is doing its magic.

So, we’ll see how they are both doing in the morning. I’m considering buying these Soft Ride boots for all eight horsey feet and just putting them on each time I turn them out. Siete was trying to rub hers off tonight. I’m so tired and emotionally whipped that I’m going to crawl into bed. I’ve got so much other real work right now that tomorrow needs to be spent concentrating less on horse hooves and more on writing and preparing for a documentary shoot next week. Enough obsessing about abscesses.

Thursday morning update: Both horses were standing on all legs and hungry this morning. I'm in a much better frame of mind - It rained during the night, but the ground absorbed it so there's no mud or puddles. I'm grateful for small victories right now.

What Can Happen

Now that I have a few days distance from it, I can write about what happened with Siete on Thursday and Friday. It doesn’t seem as horrible now as it did at the time, so I’m trying to get a more philosophical perspective on it. Here’s the story:

Thursday afternoon, before my husband was rushing out of town to work, I begged him to help me put “soft” boots on Siete’s back feet. The vet really wanted me to use the poultices on both feet at the same time. So, I put together these very nice little booties of duct tape, vet tape and Animalintex. I discovered that the sound of duct tape being pulled off the roll is one of the only things that has ever spooked Siete. We managed to tape one bootie on her back right foot. It was getting late, there was a train to catch, and most of us were getting very testy and tense. Suddenly, my 94-year old mother waltzes out of the house waving carrots at us, wanting to “help”. I yelled at her to go away. Siete saw the carrots and reared up trying to show her enthusiasm. Yes! Carrots! No! Booties!

The battle began. I wasn’t about to let her have the carrots after she behaved so badly. There was no way that the other bootie was going on her left back foot. She was really mad at us. My husband was pretty steamed too. He managed to get her back in her stall, but she reared up again when he was in there with her. She freaked out rolling and struggling to get the duct taped boot off. Finally, she managed to break through the bottom of it so that it was wrapped around her ankle like a bracelet. It was a nightmare. Fortunately, no one was hurt. I drove my husband to the train station and decided to leave Siete with the bandage around her leg until morning. My mother refused to believe that she had done anything wrong. She called me a control freak.

Friday, when I was all alone with the horses, Siete was a perfect angel. She stood still while I took a scissors and cut the bandage off. I finished all the hoof related doctoring that needed to be done. I did some groundwork with her, and she responded like a good girl. Then, it was noon, and Silk wanted to come in from the pasture for her lunch and a siesta. The horses were at the gate. As usual, Silk stood ground tied while I led Siete out first. Again, my mother appeared out of the blue, shouting that someone had called while waving a cordless phone and a handful of carrots at me. Siete noticed before I did. I yelled at Mom to go back in the house, but she’s almost deaf. She was determined not to be dissuaded from her mission. Siete was prancing like crazy. I was turning her in circles. My mother was feeding carrots to Silk. I couldn’t see letting Siete have a carrot while she was so riled up.

I managed to lead her into the barn. Amazing that she went with me. Again, once inside the stall, facing the back, she tried to rear up. I just lost it, yelling at her and jerking the lead rope as hard as I could. She stopped, snorting loudly and I was able to turn her around so I would eventually be able to get out of the stall safely. I didn’t really want to reward her by letting her go eat out of her feed bucket, so I made her stand still and wait. She wasn’t happy, but she didn’t try to push me out of the way. I counted to thirty and then let her eat.

I was shaking when I got out of the barn and went back to Silk who was still standing patiently at the gate. My mother had huffed back into the house, angry at me. After leading Silk to the barn, I stormed into the house and had a big argument with my mother. She has no clue what she did wrong, and I realized that there’s no way that I can make her understand that she must not do that carrot waving thing again EVER!!!

So, I’ve waited until my mom was napping to bring the horses in for the last two days. Fortunately, she usually takes a siesta herself every day. I’m going to try to sit down with her and explain why what she did was dangerous. Unfortunately, it’s like trying to talk to a child. She is so stubborn that she can handle herself around the horses and mad at me that I don’t allow her to help me anymore. The reality is that she has very fogged vision from her macular degenerative disease and refuses to wear hearing aids so she can’t hear what anyone says. I appreciate that she wants to keep pretending she’s fine, but it terrifies me that she - or one of us - will get hurt.

Siete’s feet are doing much better, and she’s not being a punk. I understand why she reacted the way that she did, but I don’t want her to think that she can behave like that. I must work on her stall manners. I pride myself on having horses that are safe to be around. It’s amazing how fast that can change and a bad habit can develop.

Needing A Digression

I had such a rough couple of days with my mom, which carried over to things that she did to cause problems with Siete. Added to the drama, Velcro, my cat, brought up a live mouse from the basement and for twenty-four hours, it was a crazy battle in my dining room between both my felines and the very fast, clever fellow. I kept trying to help the little guy, but he refused to let me catch him so I could put him outside, alive and free. Instead, this morning, I had to dispose of a dead mouse at 5 am.

So, I spent a few hours while the rest of the house was sleeping, reading my favorite blogs and discovering some new ones, just to change the channel around here. I don’t know if you are feeling this way, but as the seasons change, I’ve been starting to cook and bake more. There are some good old favorite dishes that everyone in my family looks forward to each Fall. I tend to work seasonally in my kitchen, trying to use what’s fresh and most interesting at the local farms.

I want to share some of the cooking blogs I’ve found because I’m so amazed by the talent of some of the people who are so generous and entertaining about sharing their cooking secrets. So, if you like to cook, check these out: orangette, smittenkitchen, the Wednesday chef and Matt Bites. I’m going to be baking some stuffed tomatoes, looking for Hatch chiles and cippolines (onions) and creating a magnificent chocolate peanut butter cake for my husband, thanks to their recipes.

I also am so glad to be part of the horse blogging community. All over the country, I see so many of you stepping forward to help unwanted and starving horses. I see bloggers giving horses to each other and getting together face-to-face or over the telephone to help one another. It’s really wonderful, and I am so proud to be part of this ever-growing group of friends who care about each other and share their experience and wisdom. The Internet has become a vital, exciting and comforting place for me to visit each day in these chaotic, troubled times. It’s a real oasis out here on the Net. And did I mention the gardening bloggers? They’re a very cool group too. The world is certainly a richer and more connected place to live since I’ve discovered the blogosphere.

My New Barn Buddy

This is my new barn buddy. She is a child of Siete’s bunny that I told you about earlier this summer. My daughter has named her BunBun. Over last week-end, BunBun began to appear when I was mucking out the stalls. She sleeps and hides under the barn and in the day lilies next to it. I chased away Benjamin, the black cat who lives next door, last Saturday because he was lurking in the drainage ditch and I knew what that meant. I guess BunBun decided that I was her guardian angel.

So, each morning, as I pull up my bucket and fill up my fork, the little rabbit comes closer and closer to me. It’s almost like she wants me to pet her or pick her up. Today, she let me sit next to her and take her picture. I gave her some carrot bits. I’ve started to be very aware of the noise I make when I clean the stalls. I try to stay as silent as possible so BunBun won’t get frightened. She stays with me until I’m done and then disappears into her little hole under Siete’s stall.

I looked up what it means when a rabbit comes into your life in Ted Andrews’ “Animal Speak”. He says that you should be aware of 28 day lunar cycles, since that is the fertility cycle of a bunny. Ask yourself what the cycle is manifesting. Also, while many associate fear with rabbits, they are also wonderful at defending themselves. Given the battles I’ve been having with Siete, I can see the relationship to that quite clearly. They are good at not giving themselves away, so he suggests that they symbolize the importance of planning for possibilities and foreshadowing of my moves. They are also extremely fast, indicating that there may be opportunities that present themselves and must be acted on quickly.

“Rabbit can show you how to recognize the signs around you. It can help you to attune to the lunar cycle and recognize the tides of movement within your life. This in turn will enable you to become even more fertile in your life.”

I just hope that BunBun is fast enough to avoid Benjamin.