Wow--You Make a Great Mag Sounding Board!

This is an official "thank you" to everyone who's posted comments so far on the October cover/issue of H&R. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, and I can tell you that others on the magazine staff read it as well.

A few comments on your comments:

* It's a pleasant surprise to see how many of you read the magazine as well as my blog. To me, that adds a layer of validity to your commentary; you have an investment in what my co-workers and I cook up for you every month. (Not that comments from non-readers aren't welcome, too. A non-customer can tell you things you need to be thinking about just as well as a customer can.)

* Reaction to a cover photo can really tell you where a person's coming from in terms of his/her own horse life. Some people, for instance, really seem to appreciate an image showing a shiny, immaculately groomed horse. Others seem to take it personally that the horse doesn't look as "everyday" as the horses they relate to at home.

(An FYI of interest: The first time I got to choose a cover photo, many a moon ago, I picked an arrestingly composed head shot of an unclipped horse in pasture condition. Whoa--audience reaction, overall, was so emphatically negative that I wasn't sure I'd survive it. For every letter saying "thanks for the slice of reality," I'll bet we got 50 letters saying "what the H--- were you thinking?!?")

* There's obviously strong interest in such subjects as riding through fear issues, and the age of futurity horses. I'll be real curious to see what the magazine gets for reader mail on those two subjects. (Got my first e-mail on the fear article just last night, so I know the issue's now hitting people's mailboxes.)

Once again, thanks for sharing your thoughts and reactions. And if you haven't yet posted comments about the October cover and issue, please feel free to chime in.

Care to Comment on This New H&R Issue?

Here's the cover of Horse&Rider's next issue, dated for October 2008. Since your commentary on the September issue's cover and blurbed stories was extremely interesting and useful, I wanted you to have another shot at being a sounding board. (And may just do this on an ongoing basis.)

As before, these are some elements to think about:

* What's your initial reaction to this cover? Would you pick it up and look further, or pass it by? Any explanation as to why?

* Which of the blurbed stories, if any, are of particular interest to you at this point in your life with horses?

* Anything else you'd care to share?

I'd also like to know if you're a regular reader of Horse&Rider, an occasional reader, or someone who just drops by my blog but doesn't read the magazine.

TIA....

September 22: Fall Equinox, and Then Some

Today's one of those days I have circled on my calendar. For one thing, it's the date of the fall equinox--when the hours of daylight match the hours of darkness, and when autumn is officially underway.

That's my prompt to get pre-winter prep going into higher gear. And as weather would have it, we're forecast to get our first freeze tonight. Time to get out to the barn and make sure the washrack pipes are drained!

For another, September 22 is the anniversary of husband Ed's emergency open-heart surgery. He had it in 2005, undergoing a triple bypass and a valve repair at age 44. Right about this time three years ago, he was hooked up to a heart-lung machine, with his chest cracked open for the most brutally invasive procedure in modern medicine, and I was sitting in a special waiting room, with a direct phone line from the operating room. Every time that phone rang for me, it was with a life-or-death update. Most assuredly the longest 8 hours of my life, I can tell you.

Thank goodness we both survived the ordeal, and are still here to enjoy life's compensatory pleasures--like the arrival of our grandson Jacob, who enjoys a little cuddle time here with "Grandpa Ed."

Why At-Home Horsekeepers Don't Have Time to Ride

This is going to be one of those posts where the picture tells most of the story.

What's in view here isn't even half of the board fence around El Rancho Thorson. And a re-paint job means three trips around the whole thing--one for scraping, one for priming, one for the top coat. So we just toil along on it bit by bit (did the part around the house last year, and the part encircling the riding arena the year before that).

Hire someone to do it? Hahaha. The last paid recruit was typical--didn't even last a second hour before he decided he really didn't want to work outdoors after all, and quit. (So much for teen-aged enterprise.)

And did I mention that what was my dream-ranch for years before we bought it has two houses and two barns as well?

Hmm. I think I've just outlined another chapter in that classic tale, "Be Careful What You Wish For"!

Normality Rears Its Boring Head

Now that the blind horse (new name: Keller, after Helen Keller) is safely at Shiloh Horse Rescue, and now that her intrepid transporter, Mikey, is back home in Arizona, there's nothing for me to do except get back on with normal life.

Which for me, largely consists of:
* Working on yet another issue of Horse&Rider. The November issue's last pages go to press today, so the December issue is officially underway. (For us mag-types, the holidays come early; I've already had the Christmas decorations out, for the purpose of taking holiday-themed photos for the issue.)

* Wielding a paintbrush and roller in my non-work hours. When we bought our place in '96, we were enamored of its lovely white buildings and expansive set of three-rail, white-board fences. And, have been trying (mostly in vain) to keep up with the painting of it all, ever since. Not to mention: Guess whose husband DOES NOT PAINT?

* Days spent alone in the company of animals (three dogs, three horses.) Once Ed leaves to go to his job in town, I usually don't see any other human-types, except for the FedEx and UPS drivers, and maybe the occasional drive-by Jehovah's Witness. It's really no wonder that I'm used to talking aloud and having no one answer.

* Making lists of all that needs to be done in preparation for another winter. New to the list this year: "Plan mid-winter trip to Arizona." I didn't exit, stage-south, during any part of last year's big whiteout winter, and definitely regretted it. Not making that same mistake twice!

More This 'n' That from Mikey's Rescue Mission

I sure want to thank everyone who's been saving a little heart-room to keep up with the saga of Mikey's rescue mission of the blind mare abandoned at a livestock yard. Once she's had a chance to rest up, I'm sure Mikey will have her own stories to tell; can't wait to read about them on her own blog, The Horseshoeing Housewife.

Photo: Mikey introduces herself to the blind mare before starting to trim her feet.

A few random thoughts to share, plus some extra photos:

* I have every bit as much admiration for Janet L., the livestock market employee who took the blind mare under her care, as I do for Mikey. Janet, who lives on the auction grounds, is the sort of person who shuns publicity. (She managed to duck or hide herself from most of the photos, and refused any credit at all for her help with the mare.) But she is every inch a horsewoman. She figured out how to get the blind mare to lead (which she wouldn't do on auction day); cleaned and treated her eyes every day; and knew how to talk her right into Mikey's trailer. She also let slip that this wasn't the first unsold auction horse that she's assisted. For someone who lives and works at what's essentially a meat market, she retains her feelings for horses.

Photo: With the blind mare safely loaded, Mikey and I show off her aptly named FEARLESS rescue rig.

* This life-episode has taught me that you don't always have to have the WHOLE answer in order to get a problem solved. Sometimes, little pieces of answers, coming from multiple sources, can add up to a good ending. Just the smallest act can be the one that makes the difference.

Photo: No longer needed: The auction tag from one very lucky horse.

* As small acts go, I loved the one where Janet, upon release of the mare to Mikey (and ultimately to Shiloh Horse Rescue), finally got to remove the "797" auction tag from the top of her tail. I know that had to have meant something to her. (The tag had to remain as long as the mare was in the auction market's custody, for purposes of tracking and identification.) Seems like a lucky set of numbers, in more ways than one!

"I Gave the Horse a Big Hug From All of Us"

I just heard from Mikey again.

She and the blind mare made it to Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada today with no trouble. Other than being a little stocked up in her legs, which is to be expected after having just had her neglected feet trimmed, the mare took the trip well, Mikey said.  She unloaded well, got settled into well enough to find feed and water, and the sound of some new voices, and Mikey's now on the road toward home, in Arizona.

Last of Mikey's words from the answering machine:

"I told the mare she was home now, and that she was going to be just fine, with all kinds of people to love her again. And I gave her a big hug from all of us."

Blind Mare is Now on the Road With Mikey

We're freshly back from our drive to meet Mikey E. at the livestock market and help her get the object of her mission--a blind mare who has a welcoming committee waiting for her at Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada--trimmed up and into her trailer.

We arrived before Mikey did, so we were able to visit with Janet L., the auction-yard employee who's been taking care of the mare for the last two weeks. Janet had her safely in a large pen, with another mare there to act as seeing-eye-horse. The blind mare had come to trust Janet enough that she could lead her; above, Janet and her son bring the mare up an alley toward the exit area.

When I'd last talked to Mikey on the phone, she asked us to see if the horse would let her feet be picked up--so she could trim them before starting the return trip south, from Idaho. The mare was hesitant at first, but compliant when she knew what we wanted her to do.

It didn't take long to realize that she'd had lots of handling and training at some point in her life. What you see here is the the longest untrimmed foot I've ever seen.

Meanwhile, the FEARLESS rescue rig, Mikey at the wheel, pulled in to the livestock market. Mikey grabbed her farrier tools, and started in on the first trim job the blind mare had had in a very long time.

I held the mare while Mikey worked on her. When Mikey set the first foot down, the mare almost lost her balance--she was used to flinging the ski-like foot out in front of herself, just to feel the ground. But she stood remarkably still for the rest of her hoof work. In fact, overall, I'd say her manners were impeccable.

Janet told us what she'd found out about the mare's history. She said a young girl had owned her all her life, but had gone on to college and left the mare behind. "Kinda forgot about her," is how Janet put it. Finally, whoever was caring for her got tired of dealing with and feeding her, and hauled her to the livestock auction where I saw her get no-saled.

Mikey (red cap), Janet (orange tank top), and I paused for a quick picture with the mare, now wearing a fly mask (donated by Janet) as eye protection. Wow, that Mikey--not just FEARLESS, but a beauty to boot!

My husband, Ed, and Appaloosa Horse Club CEO Steve Taylor came along to help get the mare into Mikey's trailer. We did use their assistance, mostly just to help her keep balanced and going in the right direction as she felt her way from one kind of surface to the next.

I have to say that I had to work pretty hard not to cry when she finally found her way to the trailer's front and dove in to her hay. There was just something about the moment when I knew she'd been passed into another set of good hands, after Janet's....

Godspeed, you two. And Shiloh, you have a wonderful surprise on the way. This is one sweet, sweet horse--kind of an Appaloosa angel, with Mikey as her wings.

Report from Mikey's Rescue Bus (Saturday a.m.)

Mikey just called to say she's about 2 1/2 hours from the livestock market. Cell reception is spotty in Idaho's mountains, so we didn't get to dwell long on the phone. Details of her drive will have to wait--but the good news is, the sun's coming up, so she won't have to keep truckin' in the dark.

I'm about to go load a few essentials into the truck, and head south to meet her. On the list:

* Coffee--lots.
* Goodies for a tailgate breakfast.
* Camera.
* Thank-you card for Mikey, with check enclosed for first month's sponsorship of The Horse.
* iPod, loaded with "I Drove All Night," by Roy Orbison. (Join the mood by hearing it on YouTube.)
* Helpful husband, in case we need extra aid in loading The Horse into Mikey's trailer.
* Room left for two other friends, Steve and Chris, who also want to come along and meet the FEARLESS rig as it arrives.

To be continued.

Mikey Checks in from the Road (Friday)

I called MIkey on her cell about 3 this afternoon. She was zeroing in on Ely, Nevada, at that point. That would give her a good 11 more hours of driving time to go to reach where the horse is now.

Once she gets to U.S 95 heading north, she'll be on a route I just drove a couple of weeks ago, on my own road trip past Lake Tahoe. So I was able to give her some fresh pointers on good places to safely pull over, should she need to stop and get some shuteye before driving the last few hours.

Janet, who lives on the livestock yard property, has the place open for Mikey's arrival, whenever that turns out to be. I'm excited to meet Janet. Hope she'll let me share her picture with you.

Later--

Get to Know Mikey as She Goes on Her Mission

What kind of person would drive 2,400 miles to rescue one abandoned blind horse, with a promise to take care of its overgrown feet while she's at it?

Get some answers here, from her blog (check out her front truck plate at right--which pretty much says it all.)

http://thehorseshoeinghousewife.blogspot.com

I will get to meet Mikey for the first time tomorrow. Meanwhile, I hope she's ridin' down the highway in good form, that her tires stay good, and that she's successful with her second agenda (which you can read about on her blog, and has to do with a certain popular vice).

As I've said before on this blog: Sometimes, for whatever reason, a gal just needs a road trip.

You-Are-There: Mikey's Mission of Mercy

Knowing that a number of people are now following the saga of The Horse Nobody Wanted (see the two previous posts with that title), I'm going to take you to where I first saw it, and to where it's being fostered now, until Mikey, from Arizona, can pick it up, and take it to Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada. (From this photo's POV, you'll understand why I didn't get to learn the blind horse's gender).

This is a catwalk-view of the auction yard pens. When I first saw the blind horse and snapped its picture, it was in a pen off-camera, to stage left. The sale ring and scale are to stage right.

Mikey, this is where you're headed. Well-wishers, here's where to send your good vibes. Sometime Saturday, provided Mikey's schedule goes as planned, this is where we'll be meeting up.

To be continued.

The Horse Nobody Wanted: Part 2

Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada has agreed to take in this blind horse, who was abandoned at a livestock auction after eliciting no bids.

When I wrote last week's post about the blind horse left at a livestock auction after no one would bid on him, I expected some riled-up responses. No matter how practical/utilitarian your mindset, it's hard not to feel something for an animal who got ditched the way this one was.

I didn't expect anyone to step up and offer to make sure he (she?) would have a home. But that's what happened when blog reader Mikey caught my post. So here's the situation as it now stands:

* Two weeks after being run through the sale ring without a bid, even from the buyers who acquire horses for the processing market, the blind horse remains at the livestock market. A good-hearted employee has taken over its care, and is working with Mikey on all the legal-paperwork arrangements for transport to another home.

* Mikey--who happens to be a farrier--is leaving home this Friday to come and get the horse. She'll attempt to trim its grossly overgrown feet when she gets to the livestock market. Employees will assist her in loading the sightless horse into her trailer. Schedule permitting, I'll be there to meet Mikey and thank her in person for her actions.

* Mikey will take the horse to a rescue facility in Nevada, where arrangements have been made for its arrival and subsequent care. (Mikey has declined offers to help pay for her fuel bill, suggesting that sponsorship funds go to the rescue facility instead. Seeing as how I stirred this whole story up, I'll definitely be contributing to Shiloh Horse Rescue.)

Of course, as the saying goes, it ain't over until it's over. Stay tuned for further updates on Mikey's Mission of Mercy, and keep her in your thoughts while she's out there on the highway.

One Reason to Go on a Pack Trip...

...is to get into country like this. Now that I'm back at my computer, word-working away, I'm pinching myself to believe that I actually WAS in country like this, just a couple of days ago.

Photo: With all our food, camping gear and other necessities loaded onto his pack string, Triple O's Rob Denny guides us to a part of America few people ever see.

This is Rob Denny, head wrangler and guide at Triple O Outfitters , taking the pack string through one of 13 creek crossings on our way to a destination even deeper in the wilds of Idaho. The farther you get into this country, the more you realize that your chances of seeing any other people are pretty close to nil. If you're not horseback, you're not likely to get to see this remote part of America.

Photo: At home in the wilderness: The stock, wearing hobbles, gets in some grazing time after the gear's unpacked and the sleeping tents are up.

And, if you're not on a well-traveled mountain horse or mule, like the ones furnished by Triple O, you also lessen your likelihood of coming back out in one piece. My two fellow guests and I lavished LOTS of appreciation on our assigned horses, for their ability to navigate whatever the Bitterroots put in front of them.

Photo: Triple O's base camp may be rustic, but it seems like the height of civilization after you've been out on the trail. (I'm on the left, fellow guest MaryJane B. is on the right. And camp-cooked grub awaits within!)

Too bad you can't put all the sensory input from a trip like this into a bottle, and save some of it for later. Guess I'll just have to start planning another pack trip!

The Horse Nobody Wanted

Warning: This will not be a feel-good post. You may want to skip it if you're having a bad day already.

Left at an livestock auction yard to be sold, this blind horse got no bids--not even from the buyers there to acquire horses by the pound.

See the horse in the accompanying photo? You can see him, but he could never see you. That's because he's blind--as blind as they come. Take a close look at those feet. They not only haven't been trimmed by man in, oh, I'd say a couple of years, but also haven't even been worn down by movement of the horse himself. Seems pretty obvious to me that this pathetic animal had stood in one place, eating whatever's been put in front of him, for a considerably long time.

I took this picture of him a few days ago, when he turned up at our area livestock market for its monthly horse sale. This is the kind of sale that could be nicknamed The Cleaners, because for the most part, it's where people bring horses they've decided to be rid of. Most are sold loose, like cattle, and their weight flashes on a tote board as they walk across the sale ring's floor-scale. Depending on their size and degree of flesh, maybe on some other quality that allows them to find a new owner "out in the country," they bring $35, $85, $150, $275, $350 a head.

A good 90 percent of the horses sold at an auction like this will be swept into three or four kill-buyers' holding pens. The sellers know this. The crowd knows this. It's a livestock market, after all, where horses follow cattle, hogs, sheep and goats on the day's auction docket. A few folks are there looking for a cheap riding horse, maybe some old gelding suitable for the grandkids.

But for the most part, this is a meat market, part of agricultural commerce. No different than the ones my dad went to, four and five days a week, while earning a living as a sheep and cattle buyer, and from whence he fetched me the 2-year-old gelding that was the first horse I bought with my own money.

Back to the blind horse. When it finally got to be his turn to sell, he didn't elicit a single bid. Not even from the kill buyers. Not even for the auctioneer's final offer of $5. Not even from anyone who might have had the impulse to rescue him.

Biggest reason: His lack of sight made him nearly impossible to move. He wouldn't lead, and could barely be herded, even by multiple men. You had to wonder how the owner had even gotten him to the auction yard (but then again, probably wouldn't want to know). He never did step on the weight scale--he just pressed himself against the gate, refusing to step on the scale's shifting surface.

To a buyer with a load to fill and move on, toward Canada or Mexico, he was just a big liability. Not worth the trouble to bother with.

To someone feeling the pluck of heartstrings, he was a series of questions that couldn't be answered in the 30 seconds it took for him to be no-saled. How would you ever get him home? What would you DO with a blind horse? What would it cost to be the one taking the merciful step of just having him be put down? What would your husband say? (Add your own questions here.)

I saw the market owner after the sale. I asked him what happens when a consigned animal doesn't sell. "We'll call the owner and tell him to come get it," he replied. "Think they'll show up?" I asked. He shrugged. "Never know."

And to think...we still have those who maintain that there's no such thing as an unwanted horse.

Last Big Fling of the Season: Pack Trip!

Earlier this year, H&R did an informal reader poll that asked people to pick their favorite horseback "fantasy vacation." The top choice turned out to be going on a wilderness pack trip, and that's exactly the sort of vacation I'm taking the end of this week. Two gal-pal friends and I booked this trip a year ago, and now we're counting the days (and making lists, lists, and more lists) until we get to go.

Our outfitters will be Harlan and Barb Opdahl of Idaho's Triple O Outfitters. (www.tripleo-outfitters.com). Hop over to their site for a look at the Bitterroot country, and the types of trips they do. I've been on two other pack trips with Triple O, both unforgettably fun (even if they were undertaken with magazine work in mind). No mag projects this time, just the chance to expose two friends (one a commercial real-estate broker, one an organic farmer and author) to a kind of outdoor adventure they may never get to have again. Plus, I'll get to practice the new sport I'm trying to learn, fly fishing.

Photo at right: On my last pack trip with Triple O Outfitters, we rode about 65 miles of the Lewis & Clark trail where it crosses the mega-mountains spine of Idaho. That's Harlan Opdahl taking the lead on his Appaloosa. That time, I got to ride a Kiger mustang who was the handiest little trail horse I've ever been on. Which horse from the outfit will I be given to ride this time?

Here's just some of what I love about going on a backcountry pack trip:

* The chance to see rugged country that I might not venture into on my own.
* Riding "professional-outfit" horses that know the country and how to navigate it. (I love my own horses, but mountain-savvy guys, they are not.)
* Escape from the digital and cell-phone world that occupies most of my normal days.
* Best of all, the chance to boil things down to basic human needs: warmth, shelter, food, good companionship.

Not to say that we won't get to bring a few creature comforts and small treats with us--that's part of what makes a pack trip different from, say, a backpacking trip. Horses help do the work!

OK--back to riding my monthly magazine-deadline pony, the better to be caught up before I disappear into the wilds of Idaho.