Taking Bets: Lost Horse--Or Dumped Horse?

Guess what showed up this morning, wandering the edge of our driveway and looking for a way to join our horses on the other side of the fence? (Can you tell that we dropped everything, and rushed out to get her captured?)

Here's Ed, about to leave for work, holding a scared, shaking Appaloosa mare that neither of us has ever seen before. I just got done notifying the appropriate authorities--sheriff, animal control, brand inspector--that the horse is here.

Now taking bets on whether she's a lost horse--or a dumped one.

Weren't we just talking about the latter? And do I need my head examined for putting her in the barn, in hope that someone is out looking for her instead of feeling smug for having gotten rid of her?

I guess it's better to have caught her than to leave her out along the state highway that borders our land, where she could collide with someone's vehicle.

But sheesh....not what I need to be dealing with, on this particular deadline day!!!

Some Equine Eye Candy For You (Me, Too)

This may look like a mare strolling her foal at the beach, but the "beachfront property" is actually a strip of dry ground on my brother and sister-in-law's farm near Fargo, North Dakota. The body of water is river overflow lapping at the edge of the road into their barnyard, and the foal is the same Appaloosa newcomer from a couple of posts ago.

Ed and I aren't raising foals at present, so we have to get our foal-fix by enjoying ones raised by others. (Very handy in that regard to have relatives who remain as breeders.)

This little beach bum has been given the barn name of Smitty--because he was born on our Grandpa Smith's birthday, April 2, and because Smitty was Grandpa's nickname.

Cute, cute, cute--by any name at all!

Extreme Makeover, Appaloosa Edition

Here's yesterday's photo of Mister (click to enlarge), the yearling Appaloosa who's at our place for a spruce-up before becoming the summer live exhibit at the Appaloosa Museum & Heritage Center in my hometown of Moscow, Idaho. He's come a long way in about 15 days!

* First and foremost, he's now a gelding--with no complications from last week's surgery. He's also gotten all his needed shots.

* He's learned to be tied, to be free-longed in a round-pen-type setting, and to have his legs and feet handled. He's gotten a good start on knowing what "whoa" means.

* He's been exposed to all kinds of new stimuli, including being blanketed (handy for keeping clean that white blanket of his own).

* Cosmetically, he's been clipped from head to toe, and has had enough daily grooming to get all his "dingleberries" removed--those caked-on balls of dried mud 'n' crud that accumulate on a horse who lives outdoors in a Northwest winter. He's had his mane and tail conditioned. Next up: His first bath (if we ever get a day warm enough to do it!)

For comparison's sake, I'll also include a "before" photo (again, click to enlarge). Let's hear it for elbow grease!

A Lesson in Herd Dynamics

Horses are capable of teaching you something new every day. My latest lesson is one in herd dynamics--especially between boy-horses!

On Sunday, we brought into the barn the yearling Appaloosa colt pictured in one of my recent posts. On Monday, The Tankmeister--our super-senior gelding (age 29), and the self-appointed guardian of Tiffany, the yearling filly--discovered the presence of the ungelded interloper. All it took was my leading him past the colt's stall. The colt let out one of those boy-to-boy throaty calls, and the normally half-comatose old fellow turned into a horse I didn't recognize.

Tank didn't just get upset. He got beside himself. Even back in his own pen, where he couldn't see the colt, he was frantic over the new, unexpected presence of a perceived threat to his domain. He didn't calm down until after I moved Tiffany to the farthest pen from the colt, which placed Tank between the younger horses' pieces of ranch real-estate. He still can't see the colt, mind you, but is quieter now that he's between the two--where (in his mind) he can protect Tiffany from the threat.

Yesterday, I snapped this picture of him standing guard over Tiffany while she was taking a sunny-day siesta. He's done this out in the pasture whenever we've had a foal out there with its dam. With Tiffany as the last of the foals, I should have known the old boy would still think of her as "his."

You know what they say about old men and smoke from the chimney: The fire still burns down below!

Weekend Update--Return of the (Short-Lived) Bliss

A high-pressure system hit these parts for the weekend, to prompt one of those horse-filled weekends that leave you falling happily into bed by Sunday night.

I went to "Trainerville," half an hour south of here, to ride Riley and take him some lighter-weight blankets. (It got up to 80 degrees yesterday where he is, probably enough of a shock to his system as it was, without suffering under winter blankets.)

I checked out the prospective grandkid horse, but passed on him. Too many issues that added up to "not quite right." A good thing to remember in such circumstances: If you have to talk yourself into buying a horse, he's not the right one.

I took Tank, That 70s Horse, out on a little field ride that included a few hill climbs. I've been riding him on the days I don't ride Riley, just to keep both of us "legged up." He's amazing--29 years old, and still ready to go when you are.

We also had a big barn cleanup session and then took delivery of the yearling Appaloosa colt that's here for for a spruce-up session (and to be gelded) before becoming the summer live-exhibit horse at the Appaloosa Horse Club. Here's his "before" shot; stay tuned for progress reports.

Spring was short-lived, unfortunately, as it's back down to the 30s again, with snow in the forecast for the next several days.
Back to those winter blankets!

--Your turn to entertain us with your own version of Weekend Update.