The Domino Effect of Change

Have you ever noticed that when one thing changes in your horse life, other changes occur right behind it? That's sure been the case at my place since right before Christmas, when icy-road mishaps sent two cars through our roadside pasture fence to leave a 100-foot hole.
At first, I was just glad that no one got hurt and that the only damage was to insured and replaceable property. "This won't be such a terrible deal," I thought. "The drivers' insurance will pay pay for the property damage, I'll call a commercial fencing outfit to handle the job, and the horses will be able to go back out in no time."

You know what they say about famous last words. Thanks to weather delays, equipment breakdowns, work crews with the flu and other delays, it's taken all of six weeks to get that fence fixed. In the meantime, I've had six horses with nowhere to live except inside the barn, and no place to get exercise except a 60x60-foot workout pen. Here are some of the ensuing changes that followed those cars through the fence:

* My daily horse-chore time went from an easy 30 minutes to at least a couple of hours. So much for free time for anything else (like, for instance, blogging).
* With six stalls to clean instead of one or two, my winter's suppy of bedding disappeared while the manure pile grew to the approximate size of Kansas.
* Since I hadn't figured on buying more bedding 'til sometime around Mother's Day, I had to spend money I'd saved for something else in order to restock the supply.
* The horses ended up bored and cranky, causing havoc in ways that only horses can dream up. I won't even go into the vet bills.

Today, I finally got to open up the back barn door to let the horses go out into the wide-open spaces of their pasture. And for the final ha-ha-ha on me, all they did was stand by the door and beg to be let back in--and why not? They had six weeks of being waited on hand and foot, with meals delivered and the bedsheets (so to speak) changed and fluffed up every night. Why WOULDN'T they want that to continue?

I left them out there with plenty of hay and assurances that they'd live through this change in their recent routine. Then I came in the house, poured a nice glass of wine, and toasted the fact that I'd lived through the changes that were part of it.

Your Very Best Horse Vacation

I don't know about you, but I'm unable to separate "horse" and "vacation" in my life. As in, if I'm going to go through the time, trouble and expense of setting aside my daily life to go do something recreational, it's going to involve horses in some way. I may write about them for a living, but my being a horse nut preceded any thought of getting a paycheck for it.

Not for me a trip to some tropical isle, where the idea is to lie on a beach and sip umbrella drinks. Way too slothful, and besides that, I look better in chaps than a bikini. I have no desire to go on a cruise and then battle the post-trip weight gain that friends have moaned about. I'd think about vacationing in the Big Apple, but only if I got to go horseback riding in Central Park--every day. I have similar thoughts about a trip to Europe. If the plan were to go horseback trekking from castle to castle, I'd be first to sign up! But the idea of touring the great capitals of the continent doesn't ring my bell as loudly as, say, touring the great horse farms of Kentucky (which I've done--complete with posing for pictures alongside Secretariat).

That was a memorable horseperson's vacation, definitely high on my list of the alltime faves. At the top of the list, as my very best horse vacation? Winner of that category is the week-long trip I took with Triple O Outfitters (www.tripleo-outfitters.com) to retrace Lewis and Clark's route across Idaho's Bitterroot Mountains. That wasn't just a vacation--it was the adventure of a lifetime. It mixed mountain-savvy horses, breathtakingly unspoiled country, nights under the stars, a palpable link to history, and great comradeship with a complete and utter escape from the digital fetters of modern-day life. I was a whole new person when I got home, refreshed in a way that's hard to describe. (Saddle-sore, too, for a valuable reminder that I exist below the neck as well as above it.)

Seeing as how we're barely halfway through the worst of the winter months, vacations are nice things to think about right now. How about entertaining me with some details of your very best horse vacation? If I can't get down our steep, icy driveway with the horse trailer right now, I still can join you in my imagination.

Where Do You Shop for Equestrian Goods?

I've got something that's bothering me, and I'd like to get your take on it.

Like so many other people, I've gotten comfortable with both the idea and the process of buying equestrian goods on-line. I've learned to surf my way through various sites, comparing products, and can fill out an order form and send payment via PayPal faster than I can stand in a checkout line and write a check.

This wasn't something I learned to do by choice--it was more of a necessity, seeing as how I live in a locale that has little in the way of anything resembling a tack or Western store. I can buy a few things--brushes, lead ropes, dewormer, fly spray, and the like--at our hometown hardware store, but even it doesn't have much to pick from. As for show hats, boots, saddles, and most other forms of tack, I'm looking at driving 100 miles to find a standard store. Not something I can do every day, or even every month, which is where on-line shopping takes up the slack.

But therein lies the very thing that bothers me. The people who own stores like the one 100 miles from here are under seige by the on-line-buying phenomenon. Most have family-type operations and are having a harder and harder time of staying afloat thanks to on-line competition. Our own town had such a store when we moved here 10 years ago, but went under as more and more shoppers found cheaper prices and greater selection on their computer screens. We did our best to support it while it remained open...but its demise is what forced me to get over my reluctance to learn how to shop via computer.

Now, I feel bad when I see and hear about other stores being forced to close their doors. Because to me, there really ISN'T a replacement for the experience of shopping in a brick-and-mortar store, and I love to visit and buy from such stores whenever I come upon them in my travels. Going on-line is my fall-back solution to the dwindling number of traditional retail providers. And even though I, alone, am not responsible for their situation, it bothers me to be a contributor.

So what do you think? Are we past the tipping point here, where the end of conventional equestrian retail stores is only a matter of time? Do rural-area people like me owe it to our horse industry to make that extra effort to be a regular patron of conventional stores? By buying on-line, are we trading the viability of stores and a valued branch of the industry for our own convenience and chances to save some bucks? Or do each of us just need to do whateve works for us, and let the change-chips fall where they may?

Feed Prices and the Cost of Fuel

As if the wallop to our wallets from high oil costs weren't enough, now comes another prospective hit to the horse budget.

I stopped by a country feed store yesterday to replenish my yearling's supply of growth-formula horse feed, and remarked on the price increase since my last purchase of the same feed. "Yup," said the store owner, "most of our feeds just went up in price. The supplier told us that with more grain being used to produce ethanol, feed ingredients have gone up in price."

Seeing as how I don't want to rush to judgment on the basis of one anecdotal comment, I'd like to know what you're hearing and experiencing about the cost of horse feed. But I can add that I paid more for hay last summer than I've ever paid, due to what the producers had to pay for diesel in order to run their hay-harvest equipment. And since my son-in-law is a farmer, I have a close connection to the subject of diesel prices and their effect on producers of agricultural products.

Seems like we're caught in a vicious circle. And that the horse-expense belt will need to tighten yet another notch.

Horse Shopping on the Negative

When you go horse shopping, what do you emphasize most about your candidates--their positives, or their negatives?

I recently had the chance to work with a professional horse buyer while preparing an article on the subject of buying, for an upcoming issue of Horse & Rider. This pro makes his living by buying horses on others' behalf, charging for the use of his experience, his keen eye, and his long list of seller contacts. He provided all kinds of great tips for my article, but one comment in particular really stuck in my mind. Here it is:

"Most people shop on the negative, and that's how they miss good horses. They focus on some little thing that they see as a potential problem or that doesn't fit their fantasy picture, and then use it as their excuse to walk away."

I'd never really thought about it those terms, but I've witnessed plenty of evidence to prove his point. "Your horse is cute, but you say he's 15.3, and I really want something 15.2." "He'd be perfect for my daughter, except for the fact that he's sorrel. He doesn't match her outfits." "I just wish he didn't have that shorter sock in front. If it matched the other three, I'd buy him." "We like your filly except for her mane. It looks a little thin."

This isn't to say that we aren't each entitled to hold out for our dream horse. But in today's era of on-line horse emporiums, with thousands and thousands to look at behind the protective veil of a computer screen, has it become all that much easier to just look and kick the tires, than to know a good horse when we see one?

Your Winter Horse Activities

Up here in northern Idaho, we joke about putting our horses up on blocks for the winter. "Feed 'em and wait for spring" is the strategy followed by many. With a small indoor arena that affords shelter and decent footing, I'm luckier than most owners who keep their horses at home. I can do a lot of ground work, ride a bit, and keep my horses semi-legged up, even if there's too much ice, snow and mud to ride them safely outdoors.

So now I'm curious: What do you do with YOUR horses in the winter? Do you ride outdoors, no matter what? Do you haul out to public indoor arenas just so you can get in the saddle? Do you leave the horses home but go to ropings, team pennings, schooling shows or other gatherings just to hang with horse friends? Do you put a few big round bales out in the pasture, keep the TV turned permanently to the horse programs on RFD-TV, and call it good until spring? Do you browse horse mags, tack catalogs and the on-line sites with horses for sale? Have you gotten past the whole issue by moving to a southern clime, where riding in winter's not a problem? Or do you have some other strategy for getting through the short-day season?

I'd love to hear about your winter horse activities, no matter what they are. How about painting and sending me a word snapshot about them? I can't be the only one who's got time to fill before the grass greens up again!

When the Weanling Becomes a Yearling

January 1 is always a big horse day at my place. I greet the new year by going to the barn, giving each horse a good grooming and fresh clip job, and reminding him--and me--that's he's now a year older. With my oldsters, the eldest of whom is now 28, this process is pretty much just ceremonial. Except for a few more gray hairs from year to year, and perhaps a barely perceptible slowing of gaits, they don't change all that much. They certainly don't get any more or less broke, because they've been "as is" for a long time.

But it's different with Carson, the youngest horse in my barn. His life-span odometer turned over from Weanling to Yearling on January 1, and that's quite a big life change. Along with putting away his weanling halter, in favor of one yearling-sized, I also used the New Year's Day holiday to retire my baby-sized expectations of him. No, let me rephrase that: I used the holiday to retire my baby-sized expectations of ME where Carson is concerned.

It's now time for me to take him from pre-school to kindergarten. It's time, for instance, to extend his tie-up sessions from those of just a minute or two to longer periods, so he learns to accept that very important version of restraint as a confirmed and lifelong skill. It's time for him to go on walks beyond sight and sound of the other horses, to further his independence, and to move from the quiet area at the back of the barn to the busier-action one up in the front. It's time for him to learn how to load in and unload from the trailer, even if he doesn't have anywhere yet to go, and to have his feet trimmed out in the aisleway like the veterans do, instead in the familiar confines of his stall. It's time for me to regard him more as an adolescent than as an infant. It's time for me to put Carson's name on the erasable daily training board, alongside that of Riley, the previous horse-kid who yesterday went from 3 to 4.

I don't know if this is a universal truth or not, but it's been my experience that when you expect a little more of a horse, you usually get a little more. But for that to happen, you have to put the horse in a new light.

So, bye-bye, Baby Carson. You're a big boy now.