So, Now What?

“There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.”
Will Rogers

I watched what was happening yesterday in Washington and tried to accept the unknown. What else can you do?

Meanwhile, I wrestled with Siete’s hoof abscesses. John, the farrier, came first thing in the morning. I guess the medicine boot with the Animalintex did a good job because the abscess on that foot had drained. Siete was able to stand on it so he could check her right back hoof. He found another abscess there and cleared it out. We put a clean boot with more Animalintex on that foot.

I have two boots, but I can’t use them both at the same time because it’s too hard for her to walk. Siete is a bit testy about anything that has to do with her hooves right now. She’s okay schlepping around with one medicine boot, so I’m filling the hole in the other hoof with medication and switching them back and forth. Today, I need to call the vet and discuss what’s happening. Yesterday was too busy, and as long as I continue to treat the abscesses, I know they will go away. Siete already feels better, and all the fussing with her feet is making her very punky.

We did go through this when we lived in Virginia. The vet there believed that there was something in the soil that these “foreign” horses of mine (having come from dry, sandy California) were reacting to. It was also really wet, and until I put Siete in training in a big old dry barn, we continually had these problems. So, I am aware that we got six inches of rain this weekend. It’s not horribly muddy, but the ground is wet and sticky. I can clean my horses’ hooves and in five minutes, you’d never know that I just picked them out. I think that I need to toughen up their soles. My farrier suggested Venice turpentine and trying the old sugar and iodine in the hoof boot once the Animalintex had done the initial drawing and cleaning. I’ve also got some Keratex, which is a very good hoof hardener.

So, I’m going to stay focused on Siete’s feet and not the economy today.

Not Again!

When I walk out the back door in the morning to feed the horses, I look to see if two beautiful heads are sticking out of the Dutch doors of the barn. This morning, they weren’t there. I went to the tack room to get the food, hoping that the horses would be looking out for me when I came back out.

Silk was there, but no Siete. Siete is always the first one to greet me. I approached her stall with deep dread. I wished I had my cell phone with me. I prayed. I asked Silk what’s going on with her baby. When I saw Siete, she was lying down but not colicking, thank God. She had a really hard time standing up because her back left leg was very lame. Here we go again, a hoof abscess.

While I was really bummed out, I was also relieved that I knew what was wrong and what I needed to do. I called the farrier. He’s coming first thing Monday morning to open it up and drain it. I pulled out the hoof boot, loaded it up with an Animalintex poultice, and gave Siete a little banamine.
It was 6:30 on a Sunday morning, so there was no one around to help me hold her. I couldn’t get the little horse to walk out of her stall. I decided to just do the best I could and cleaned the hoof. She put it down and got dirt on it again, but I just pulled the medicine boot on and tightened it up. I wished I had two extra hands. Siete was one unhappy little horse. I decided that I’d give her some hay and crawl back to the house for a cup of coffee. A half hour later, I came out to find her in Silk’s stall, getting comfort from her mommy.

Two hours later, she was walking around putting weight on the foot that was in the boot. This afternoon, I was able to move her into the pasture so I could clean the barn and lay down some new shavings. I know it could be much worse, but here we go again.

Put Up Your Hooves, Mama

There was a big showdown in the pasture this morning. Since I was in the barn, I don’t know how it started. We had a break in the rain, so I put the horses out early. They were hiding inside their stalls yesterday due to the deluge. and I knew that they would be full of beans if they got stuck indoors again today.

Silk and Siete rarely fight. I heard thundering hooves and felt the ground vibrate under my feet while I mucked. Thinking it was just some much needed exercise, I ignored it. Then, Siete began whinnying loudly. I had to come out and see what was going on. It was a turf war. They were kicking and rearing and biting and racing along the fence line as fast as they could go on the muddy ground. Siete was on the attack, but since Silk is Alpha Mama, she wasn’t going to put up with anything.

Even though I’ve owned horses for over 10 years, I still feel my heart pound when I think they are going to crash through the fence or hurt themselves. Some people will say let them work it out themselves and walk away. I immediately thought that I wished there was someone else here in case I needed help. No such luck. It was me and my herd. This was my lesson. No one else was going to step in and take charge or even stand back and give me moral support. Siete was squealing and when she saw me, she charged the fence and started to rear.

I didn’t want her to catch her legs in the flexible rails and take out a section of fence and the posts. I started to take deep breaths. I imagined my legs were like tree trunks and sent energy down in to the ground like roots. Firmly but quietly, I said, “No! Quit.” Siete hung in mid air, hooves about a foot off the ground. I raised my arms to my shoulders, not looking her in the eye, and slowly lowered them towards the ground. She backed down. I said, “Back,” motioning with my arm the way I’ve been teaching her to back up. She took a step back. “Good girl.” Siete’s nostrils were flared and she was still breathing fire, but she stood still. Well, what do you know!

Silk went over to the pile of hay that was probably the source of the disagreement and began to munch on it. Sometimes, Siete doesn’t want to share. I walked over to the fence, and my little horse came to me, still breathing heavily from all that exertion. I just put my hands on her neck and continued to take deep breaths. Then, I did some TTouch circles and scratched her at the base of her mane. I asked her if she wanted some water since we were standing in front of the bucket. She put her head down and drank.

It’s understandable that they would get on each other’s nerves once in a while. Yesterday, they shuttled back and forth between the two stalls, sharing each other’s space without being able to stretch their legs in the corral since it was pouring rain. They didn’t misbehave at all. I guess that when they finally got out in the wide open space, Siete had a little temper tantrum. Luckily, no one got hurt. I’m still so pleased that Siete listened to me. Now, the rain has started again, and they’re happily standing together in Silk’s stall sharing some lunch. After all that racing around, I can bet it will be naptime soon.

“Without doing anything, things can sometimes go more smoothly just because of our peaceful presence. In a small boat when a storm comes, if one person remains solid and calm, others will not panic and the boat is more likely to stay afloat.”
- Thich Nhat Hanh in "Love in Action"



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Under the Covers

I just want to bury my head under the covers today. I can’t bear to watch the news or read about what’s going on in Washington DC. We got about two inches of rain in our own backyard last night and this morning, with another three inches predicted to come. I worked outside all day yesterday, preparing the barn and the corral for this deluge. So far, the stalls are dry and cozy. The corral and pasture and drainage ditches are flooding. We’re only halfway through the storm.

I’ve been outside twice already to shovel mud so the water can keep draining. Now that I’ve changed into dry clothes for the second time in four hours, I am taking a moment to reflect. There seems to be some financial parallels here. We keep digging ourselves out, but the economic weather is continuing to drown us. I’m crawling under a blankie on the couch to hide until I get my optimism back. See you when the sun comes out!

Relaxed? I Don't Think So

Okay, so yesterday, I finished the barn chores, grabbed a book and a chair and sat down in the pasture with my horses. They came over to investigate immediately. I paid attention to each of them and then motioned for them to move out of my space and let me be. Siete wandered off to eat grass, but Silk stuck her belly right in front of my nose because she wanted me to scratch her.

I finally had to take a small stick and motion with it to keep her out about five feet away from me. Silk stood, hanging her head, watching me sadly. Needless to say, it made me feel like I wanted to get up and do something with her -- groom her or play with her. I stayed in my chair and opened my book. It was impossible for me to read while Silk was staring at me with that hangdog expression. I looked around and noticed all the things that I still needed to do in the barn and the pasture-- like scrubbing the fence and clearing the drainage ditches to the corral. Then, I began to worry about Siete. She was standing with her back leg cocked while she grazed. It wa s the same foot that had the abscess. I wondered if it was not healed yet. I reminded myself that horses stand like this all the time when they are relaxed. Why couldn’t I relax?

Silk decided that she wanted to drink water out of the big bucket in the corral, so she was trying to stretch her neck in between the fence rails to reach it. She couldn’t, and I ended up getting up, filling a small bucket with water and holding it for her to drink. She drained the bucket twice. Smart horse, she knows that I always want her to drink water so it was a surefire way to get my attention.

As soon as I sat down in my chair again, my mother came out, waving the cordless phone in her hand. I gave up, dragged the chair out of the pasture and didn’t stop moving until I fell into bed last night. So much for quiet contemplation!

Farewell to Summer

Today is the Autumn Equinox, usually one of my favorite times of the year. I’ve been wondering why I am so reluctant to let go of Summer this time around. I think it might be because I feel really ready for a change and yet, I’m afraid that my expectations will be dashed. This has been a difficult summer without enough good times to relax and enjoy the beautiful weather we’ve had. My interactions with my horses have been focused on healing them of physical ailments. I’m just feeling jumpy and unsettled.

Several years ago, a friend of mine studied with Sandra Ingerman, a shaman who lives in New Mexico. She introduced me to Sandra’s books and to her website, on which there is a monthly newsletter. Sandra is a wise woman with a big heart and great hope for the direction that this world is heading. So, on the Equinox, I turned to her to see what she had to say:

“Let’s use the support of the seasonal change of letting go of what is no longer needed and release those blocking energies back to the earth and universe to be composted so that new beautiful life might be born from what you let go of. “

Tomorrow, I’m going to give myself the gift of an hour of sitting in the pasture with my horses. I’ve been saying I want to do this almost every day and I never have the time. I think I’ll be twitching, wanting to groom them or pick up after them. I won’t give in to my nervous energy. I will let it all go back into the earth and worry about the compost pile later.

Open Mind

I saw a quote from Albert Einstein this morning that was thought provoking on so many levels: "The significant problems we face can not be solved at the same level of thinking we were at when we created them."

It made me consider how often these days I wind up face-to-face with resistance. Whether it’s coming from my horses, my teen-aged daughter, my aging mother or political candidates, there seems to be a lot of resistance flying around.

My immediate reaction used to be to get mad or annoyed. Often, I’ve tried to take control. But over the years, I’ve learned that it only builds more resistance and resentment between people and horse or people and people. Once I stop trying to force things to go my way and look at the situation from the other side, I find myself in this vast new territory. I allow myself to be open to all possibilities. It can be frightening to be so vulnerable, but it also gives me unexpected strength. And if the other person or horse meets me in this new terrain, we will make a connection to which we can return again and again.