The Two Relationships You HAVE to Care For

I won't keep you in suspense on this one. Of all the relationships that come into your horselife--show friends, trail friends, club buddies, your coach or trainer, the occasional horse sitter--the two that REALLY make it or break it are your relationships with your vet and farrier. Truth to tell, you and your horses need these pro caregivers way more than they need you. If they're exceptionally good at what they do, they may not need you at all, simply because they probably have more people wanting to be their clients and customers than they can accommodate.

Treat them poorly, and you may just find that they're "too busy" just when you need them most.

Treat them well, like they matter, and they'll be your right-hand helpers without batting an eye.

A few more thoughts on how to nurture good vet/farrier relationships:

* The number one thing: Pay bills promptly. Many vets and farriers are understanding about extending credit in a crisis, but they ALL have stories to tell of the clients who let routine bills drag out for months and months, and of those who somehow never managed to pay at all. Don't shuffle their bills to the bottom of your monthly pile. These people are as important to your horses' welfare as your electric service is to you.

* Provide them with decent places to work. Don't expect your vet to do her best work in a filthy, dimly lit stall or pen, and don't think your farrier's going to work a miracle when standing under brutal sun or out in a bone-chilling wind. And it never hurts to offer a cold or warming beverage, either, especially if the job's a long one.

* Respect their time. You wouldn't appreciate it if your boss said, "Oh, by the way, can you do this extra report?" at 4:59 on a Friday afternoon; likewise, it doesn't make your caregiver's day when you say, "Hey, before you go, could you work on this extra horse, too?"

* Do your OWN horse training. It isn't fair to ask your vet and/or farrier to risk their livelihoods with injury from an ill-mannered or seldom-handled horse.

* Do something extra every now and then. Send a thank-you card for a job well done, or maybe slip your farrier a tip for special service.

I think we all want vets and farriers we can count on; we want "the good ones." Just remember that it's a two-way street. To be treated like a good customer or client, you have to go to the effort to be one.

Oh, Deer!

I just looked out the kitchen window to spy an unfortunate surprise.

The hay feeders we set up in a sheltered outdoor area (the better to save on bedding for the two horses that normally live outside anyway) have been discovered by deer. I'd brought the horses in last night, in anticipation of a storm--probably more for my peace of mind than anything--and the feeders that were half-full when I haltered the two critters and removed them from the pasture are as empty this morning as empty can be.

So much for what seemed like a good idea at the time! Deer are lovely, but we sure don't need to be feeding them our gold-priced alfalfa, nor be training them to come to a steady food source.

Just another lesson learned, I guess, along the horselife highway....

My Horses, Your Horses

I'm looking out the window at my little herd du jour (around here, the faces change with some regularity, as my sale projects come and go), and thought it might be fun for us to exchange details about our critters. So here's my roster:

* Riley, 2003 sorrel Quarter Horse gelding registered as All American Choice. I bought him as a weanling, showed him at halter as a yearling (have the trophy buckles to prove it), and have been working on his riding skills ever since. He's had some downtime this year, after a soft-tissue injury, but appears to have recovered and will be going back into training Dec. 1.

* Gussie, 1991 gray Quarter Horse broodmare, real name Gust A Gray. Gussie's had three foals for us--one in each of the years we've owned her, and all of them gray, like her. We left her open for 2008, due to the depressed horse market, and stlll haven't decided where to go from here. She may just get to retire and become a fulltime pasture ornament.

* Tiffany, 2007 gray Quarter Horse filly, registration pending but hoping to get The Perfect Option as her name. (Sire is named Absolute Option, dam is the mare named above). She's our favorite of the babies we've raised, and we're enjoying the chance to see her grow and develop.

* Tank, 1979 dun Quarter Horse gelding, also known as Dunnys Wimpy--except no one but AQHA ever calls him that. Tank was given to us a few years ago by the rodeo cowboy who'd used him as a rope horse for ages; he wanted to retire him from the rodeo life as a reward for his great service. The old guy still pulls the occasional trail ride or colt-ponying job, but mostly he acts as big uncle to the foals, and as Gussie's pasture pal.

And, though he's no longer ours (we sold him to a friend), we also have custody of Beau (Zipalong Cassidy), a 2001 chestnut roan Appaloosa gelding who serves as a nonpro show horse.

We've had as many as 12 horses on the place, so five seems like a much smaller--and more manageable--number of horses to care for.


OK--your turn!

Let's Hear Your Winter Coping Tips

I'm writing this as a winter wind howls past the house and barn, pushing snow into drifts and dropping the "feels like..." temperature down to a bone-chilling number. It's one of those times that put new meaning into the phrase, "time to go outside and do the chores."

Which gets me thinking about the topic of wintertime coping skills for those of us who (A) choose to have horses, and (B) do so in less-than-ideal winter climates. A few things I'd hate to be without:

* heated waterers, so I don't have to break ice
* a good supply of insulated, lidded mugs, so I can keep sip warm tea while I'm outside
* fleece-lined ski pants
* my dad's old goosedown coat (must be 30 years old, and still as snugly warm as ever)
* good lighting sources, inside and outside the barn (bad enough to be out in the cold, but 10 times worse to have it be dark as well)

What would you add to the list?

That Cozy Barn Thing

There's something about being in the barn this time of year that I love. A lot of somethings, actually.

There's that welcome sense of being sheltered against winter's elements. All those earthy smells--bedding, hay, horses themselves. There's the welcoming nicker, the impatient banging, the contented munching after everyone's feed has been doled out. There's the refreshing paradox of being inside, but outside, at the same time. Then there's the pleasure of coming back into a snug, warm house.

That cozy barn thing--don't you love it?

Storm-Front Colic Awareness

No studies confirm it, but vets (and I) will tell you that when barometric pressure changes, colic cases go up.

So today, when the first wave of pre-winter stormy weather was predicted to hit our area, I turned up the dial on colic vigilance.
Almost every colic case we've had has occurred during a storm-weather period. Unpleasant as they were, those episodes taught me a few things. Such as:

* Make sure everybody has fresh, clean, inviting water to drink. The more water horses can be encouraged to consume, the better lubricated their digestive tissues will be, and the better they'll be able to digest their feed.

* Prepare for the fact that horses will go through more roughage, in the effort to keep warm. To be processed without compaction, this extra roughage will require extra water consumption. See above.

* If you can bring horses in out of inclement weather, where they have rain/wind protection, their need for roughage intake won't be as great as if they were left outside to "tough it out." See above.

* Don't pick stormy days to make big changes in the feed or exercise programs. Kids get tummyaches when that happens, and horses do, too. Except their tummyaches are called colic.

The YouTube Thing

Do you YouTube yet?

If so, you're probably in on the phenomenon of watching videos of sale horses and other subjects on your computer screen. (I'm partial to rock-concert videos.) Maybe you've uploaded something to YouTube, too. When it comes to selling horses, it's certainly easier to zip out a link to YouTube than to burn individual DVDs and drive them to the post office. Faster, too--so much so that shoppers don't seem to have the patience now to wait a couple days for a DVD or tape to reach them.

Which makes me wonder: How long will it be before we have virtual horse shows on YouTube? Just think: You get your horse ready, have him do his thing for a digital camera, post the result on-line, then sit back and wait for a judge's scores to show up on your screen. No need to buy fuel, no need to leave home, and PayPal will process your entry fees.

Seem farfetched?

Well, so did the idea of having your computer function as on-demand TV. And not that long ago, either.

Lemonade Stand in the Barn

So what can you do with a weanling filly that can't be turned out for at least two months, thanks to a growth-related problem that needs time and TLC for resolution? How do you take a barn-bound diagnosis and turn it into something positive?

That's my situation with 6-month-old Tiffany, and here's what I've come up with as a way to turn lemons into lemonade: Work her brain instead of her body. Teach cues to body parts instead of schooling "the whole horse." And seize the opportunity to help her relate to me as though I were her one-rung-up best buddy in the herd.

For her brain: I move her to a new stall every other day or so, which changes her views and gives her different neighbors. I think of new things to use for desensitization sessions, ranging from clippers and leaf blower to tarps and flopping blankets. I walk out to the barn several times a day, messing with her for even a minute or two between writing stints, just to alleviate her baby-horse boredom. (I think it's working--she whinnies now when she hears me call to her halfway from the house.)

For teaching cues to body parts: I pay EXTRA attention to picking up and holding all four feet, to teaching her a head-down cue, and to reinforcing her step-up cue for walking into the trailer. Using halter and lead, I work on teaching her to move each foot forward and backward from cue pressure. We work on "whoa," and on an ears-up cue. She's learning to flex her poll and neck, and to yield to rib-cage pressure. I spend time teaching her to regulate the speed of her walk as I lead her through the hand-walk sessions that are supposed to be her main source of exercise.

To be her "boss mare": I remind myself to make the behavior rules consistent, so as not to spoil Tiffany into thinking it's OK for her to have her own way when she feels like it. But I also give her extra grooming time (after she's been good, not before), so she can associate my dominance with pleasure as well as with discipline.

It may be a challenge to have a barn-bound baby, but I figure we might as well make the best of it. There's more than one kind of young-horse training...and sometimes it's as much about training yourself as it is the horse.

Officially a Big Girl

For a young horse, the first trip off the farm is like a child's first day in school after an also-first trip on the bus. It's a significant rite of passage.

Tiffany, our weanling filly, took that first ride yesterday when she had to go to Washington State University for X-rays. Initially a bit hesitant, she decided to trust us and allow herself to be led into the trailer without any fight--a big relief, seeing as how the last thing she/we needed was a fracas out in the driveway. Chalk one up for her good-minded disposition. Chalk one up also for trainer John Lyons' time-tested method of training a horse to load. Although we gave ourselves a several-hours head start before her appointment, in order to TRAIN her to load rather than to force her, she didn't need more than a few minutes before she "got it" and walked in.

She took the big world of the horse hospital well, too. In fact, it was probably harder on me than it was on her when she had to be handed over to vet students, then walked, trotted, poked, and prodded within the caverns of a $30 million facility. She acquited herself well in the good-manners department.

Tiffany's diagnosis was a growth-related issue in her right stifle. Her prognosis is good--we caught her lameness early, before irreparable damage could occur, and now we know how to manage her through her recovery. She went back into the trailer without hassle, seemingly all the more grown up after her big trip to town.

Wish I could have heard her describing her grand adventure to the other horses after we tucked her back into the barn, doled out dinners, and turned the light off for the night!