Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Things that live in the barn…

Wednesday, February 23rd, 2011
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It occurred to me the other day as I was preparing the barn for my mini-vacation, that I subconsciously feed and take care of creatures that I don’t openly acknowledge.

Well, it isn’t as if I’m ashamed of them or anything like that… it is more like I don’t acknowledge these beings because I have never met them personally.  Some I’ve never even seen.

What do I mean?

MRS. SKUNK

For example, I know there is a skunk(s) living in my barn.  I know this because he/she leaves a slight but telltale, ever so lingering whiff of skunkiness lofting in the morning air.  Consequently, I’ve not been able to ignore his/her residency under the barn.  And, since I know he/she lives in the barn, I leave extra cat food out at night.  I know that he/she finishes  the bowl because my plump barn kitties don’t eat that much yet every single morning, the dry cat food bowl is in some new area, totally empty and really schmeary.

I’m pretty sure my robust but not Superfeline barn cats cannot possibly drag that metal food bowl around… so someone who is a bit more strong drools over and carries away the cat food bowl every single night.  I assume it is Mrs. or Mr. Skunk.  And, for me, I’m happy to provide cat food to M. Skunk in exchange for services rendered.

Now most of you might be thinking, “Ewwwwww” right now.  But, not I.  For I have learned the important do-gooderness of a skunk.  Basically, if you leave them alone, they will happily go about their business of impeccable rodent removal without ever ruining your day.

I had a skunk living under my barn in Oregon and I never saw her – in 5 years – except for the night of her premature demise at the jaws of one of my dogs (so sad).  It was then that I witnessed the barn underground tunnel system she had artfully created.   And, out of those tunnels emerged her three newborns.  Yikes!

Three baby skunks emerged... Cute, aren't they?...

Her three newly orphaned babies wandered out during the daylight (unheardof) looking for food.  I saw them stumbling about and was bewildered but I also started cooing because they were so cute.  After examining them closely (but not too closely, they are skunks after all…), I was nervous that they would be eaten so I hurried inside to go online for help.  Luckily, I found the “skunk lady” who told me what to do and how to catch them.  It was easy.

These babies were hungry and needed water.  So, she said to put water and cat food in a cat carrier.  She added that eventually I would find them in the cat carrier and when I did, I had to just shut the door (baby skunks are kinda slow).

Hungry babies

She also eased my mind that baby skunks cannot spray if you hold them by the tail.  And, most likely, these babies were too small to spray anyway… Over two days, I caught all three.  Mission accomplished.   I called the Skunk lady and  she came in her Skunk Van and picked them up for raising and rehabilitation.

Several months later, I received a photo from her of these babies all grown up!  Skunk Lady was ready to release them back into the wild.  I asked her if she had ever been sprayed, thinking that she would have many stories to tell… But, she said that in all her years of skunk handling, she had never been doused.  Not once.

So, that proves my point of not bothering skunks and they won’t bother you…

If you didn't know it was a skunk, you'd think he was cute...

SPIDERS

I am not a fan of spiders.

I don’t really despise them because spiders eat flies and I really despise flies.  Since spiders perform such a wonderful service for me, I let them live in the barn.

I find that they come and go depending upon the food supply.  In the height of summer, I find spider pods attached to everything and little DaddyLongLegs skittering everywhere when I enter the feed room.

If I find one trapped in the sink, I usually catch it and put him on the windowsill or somewhere else he can recuperate from his horrible sink drama and then build a nice fly-catching web.

I have noticed that the spider population becomes almost nothing in winter and I feel badly for them – starving in the feed room.  I don’t actually feed them but I don’t actively hunt them.  We co-exist, both waiting for the sun to shine again.

Big black wood spiders or those hairy kind that jump are a different story… I don’t kill them but I do catch them and put them OUT.  No hairy, big ol’ black scary spiders in my barn!  Yuk.

Daddy Long Legs (prettier photo than the real thing...)

TIMESHARE BIRDS

I think the birds in my barn are all part of a massive time-share cooperation.  Every season seems to bring a different crop of barn dwellers.  Some nest, some feed, some sleep…  I’m not real good at ornithology so I cannot tell you which kinds live and breed in the barn during which seasons.  But, I can tell you that in the winter, we have owls and bats.  I know how those look from many years of art classes in grammar school.

But, truly, they are all on a super time-share program that only they know the rules and dates.  It never ceases to amaze me that one bird or pair of birds will vacate just a day or so before the new comers fly in and take residence.

The only birds who have their whole area to themselves all year round are the bats.  It seems no other bird wants to hang upside-down behind the opened shutters of the barn.  Besides, bats have been in there…. yeesh.  (I know, I know, a bat is not a bird.)

These aren't my barn owls but they look similar... pretty.

SEYMOUR TURKEY AND HIS FAMILY OF CLONES

We have lots of wild turkeys here.  Lots.  I’ve counted over 50 at one time, cruising over the front lawn and then meandering throughout the horse fields.

One of them I have named Seymour because he is here most often.  Sometimes he comes alone.  Since I know that Seymour comes alone, I will leave bread and other such ‘going stale’ items out for him to sample.  Usually, he pokes and prods for a minute or two and then he eats whatever I put out there.

Maybe that is why the gang is up to 50+.  Dunno…

Anyway, at night, some of them roost on top of the barn.  It is a good spot because trees shield them and no animals can crawl up there.  Of course, I cannot see them up there, but I can hear them…

As soon as I come down to feed in the morning, the turkeys rise and shine.  I hear them flapping their wings and stretching their legs.  And, the true morning birds will hop off the roof and flappity flop onto the pasture below.

The horses kick at them and the turkeys behave… until no one is looking.  Then they wander around very quietly, picking up what the horses didn’t eat.  And, if they are lucky, grain that I feel isn’t fit for the horse.  Pay Day!

Just a few turkeys...

IN CONCLUSION

I’m sure you have animals that you regard and consider but you don’t know at all.  Maybe a hawk that perches on your fence post or perhaps a fox that skitters across your pasture at dusk.

For me, I kinda think we all share the land…  If none of us becomes overly gluttonous or out of control, we can all live peacefully – without ever really co-existing – even though we are in the exact same place.

Foxy

HORSE AND MAN is a blog in growth… if you like this, please pass it around!

February Drop in the Bucket Fund:  LEROY, THE WONDERPONY
He was found in a Home Depot parking lot with a huge leg wound. To learn all about the Bucket Fund and to donate towards the care of LeRoy, please click here to read about LeRoy!

My Spoiled Rotten Horses.

Thursday, January 20th, 2011
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I walked out to feed tonight and this is what I saw…

Here's your sign...

OK OK, yes, I made this sign.  But, I was just channeling what I heard ringing throughout the farm tonight.  THIS HAY IS CRAP.  GIVE US SOMETHING ELSE.  WE KNOW YOU HAVE OTHER HAY.  WE WANT THAT OTHER HAY.  THIS HAY IS CRAP.  IF YOU DON’T GIVE US SOMETHING ELSE, WE WILL STARE AT YOU UNTIL WE STARVE TO DEATH.  YOU WILL HAVE THE BLOOD OF 11 HORSES ON YOUR SOUL

Sam:  Ahem…

YOU WILL HAVE THE BLOOD OF 10 HORSES ON YOUR SOUL!  GIVE US THE GOOD HAY, TWO-LEGGER!  NOW!  WE’RE STARVIN’ OVER HERE!

MY HORRIBLE MISTAKE

What was my horrible mistake?  My unforgivable infraction?  What did I do to deserve this backlash from the barn?

You ready?…

Last year’s hay. I got to the bottom of the hay in the haybarn and saw there was a bale from last year.  That was the handy bale so I fed it.  Yup.  That is what sent these insolent fuzzies into mayhem.  A bale from last year.  That’s all.  Not a bad bale, not a stinky bale, not a moldy bale – nothing like that.  It was just… old.  Last year’s model.

You’d think I’d given them seaweed or tumbleweeds or dust, forcrissake.

Nope… my little primadonnas were outraged because I served them left-overs.

HOW DID I KNOW?

Usually, the majority of their hay is gone after two hours.  The rest of the time they pick at seeds or anything that might possibly be a thread of hay.  But, basically, I never see hay sitting around in clumps.

Today, there were clumps strewn everywhere.  Everywhere.

I swear they danced in it, dragged it around on their hooves, twirled it over their heads and tossed it and then pushed it as far away from them as they could.

Them:  “How DARE she feed us that swill”

Me:  I can hear you.

Them:  “Well, fine.  She should hear us.  This is not acceptable.  We should turn her into the Cruelty to Horses Forum.”

Me:  The what?

Them:  “You heard us… The Board of YOUcan’tdothattous.  We are going to turn you in and then we are never going to speak to you or look at you if you are looking at us.  OK, everyone at once, stare at the back of her head!”

Me:  (Sighing) OK.  Whatever.  I’m not giving you anything else.

Them:  (clamoring in an uproar)  “Did you hear what she said?  She said she won’t give us the good stuff that we know is right there — in the first stall.  We can see it.  We can smell it.  We know it is in there…. Waaaaaaaah, we are gonna starve!   We are gonna perish!  PERISH.  YOU ARE CRUEL!!  WaaaaHHHHHHHHH.”

Me:  Oh give me a break.  Spoiled brats.

Sam:  “Ahem… I’m eating mine.”

THE VARIOUS PILES

I couldn’t stand it.  So, I went around to all the piles with my camera to document the carnage of this morning’s hay.  I found several techniques of hay shuffling.

1)  The “spread it all around and see if there is anything good underneath this pile of crap” method.  Bodhi and Gwen adopted this strategy.  It didn’t work, obviously.  But, it did manage to grind all the good hay into the mud.  Nice.

Spread it around and maybe you'll find something... or not

2)  The “OK, I’ll poop in it” strategy.  Of course the ponies adopted this plan.  Well, actually, I think it was only Slick at the helm of this one.  He looked guilty and usually is…  Remi sniffed at the piles and then continued to stare at me wherever I went.

Excuse me, do you have anything...else?

3)  The “stir up the middle and create a volcano so this stuff will erupt and go away forever” style of hay origami.  As you can see, Tess did this to all three piles in her pasture.  She went to hers first.  Ugh.  Then she pushed Sam out of the way and did the same to Sam’s pile.  Then she demanded another flake from me.

Me being me, I threw her another flake from the crap bale.

Ohhh, she was doubly pissed.  Tess gave me the stinkeye like you’ve never seen.

Me:  Better watch out or your face will stick like that (channeling my mother…)

Tess:  “I thought (sniff) that (bawl) you loved (sniff, bawl, weep, cough) loved me…

Me:  Oy.

Tess' creation of volcano swirls. Do you see the prize inside?

Lo and Behold! Tess had uncovered the hay knife I lost in the hay last year...

4)  The “push it outside the fence and maybe she will give us more of the good stuff” plan.  This was Finn and BG’s idea.  They pushed all of it away from them and outside their fence.  Then they stared at me…

BG:  “See, we don’t have any hay!  We need more.  More of the stuff in the first stall, please”.

Me:  Uh, no.

Finn and BG pushed it outside their fenceline

I TRIED NOT TO, BUT INDEED, I BECAME MY MOTHER

I heard myself morphing into my mother.  I felt myself transport to a time when I was 6, refusing to eat my peas at the kitchen table and my mother’s logic shooting at me like rubber arrows.  And, here I was, doing the same, useless thing… creating the same useless arguments.

Me:  There are horses all over the country that would die for that hay… ANY hay!

Them:  OK, well, pack this crap up and drive it to them… and on the way back, get us some good hay.

Me:  This is ridiculous.  Eat it.

Them:  No.

Me:  Well, I’m not giving you anything else.

Them:  Sure you will

Me:  No.  I won’t.

Them;  Really?  After being so worried that the ponies were dropping weight or that Tess is getting old or that it might rain and be cold tonight or that maybe we’ll colic without food or maybe   we   just   won’t   love   you   anymore.

Me:  That’s not fair.  How can you read my mind like that.

Them:  We are intuitive and we use it to our advantage…  Gotcha!

Me:  Dammit!

BG: Awww, C'Mon Mom, I'm starvin' here!

SAM

The only shining star during this entire day was Sam.  She is the untouchable wild mare.  Obviously, she remembers having to struggle to find food.  She remembers living in the wild.  She remembers that every meal is good.

As I walked by her, she ate the entire pile that Tess had turned into a volcanic nest of green.  Sam looked up and thanked me for her meal, as she always does.  Bless her untouchable Dun self.

SO…

What baffles me is that this hay was perfectly fine last year.  They ate it happily and heartily all last year.  But, this year… no way.

Somewhere in the distance I hear my 13 year old daughter telling me how her jeans from last year are hideous and totally out-dated.  I thought about it for a minute and decided that they are all spoiled around here.  Suddenly, I wished I had a few more bales of the “old hay” to serve daily for a week or so.  I felt my chest fill with power as I decided to not give them any more hay until they finished what they had.

There.  I’ll show them!

And then they did what they had to do.  They saw the strength returning to my willpower and they knew they had to bring out the big guns…

With my back firmly stiffened and me marching towards the house in defiance, I heard it.

Me:  Oh no. NO. NOOOOOOO.

Yup, the distinctive inhale and the unmistakable squeak of a donkey ready to blow.

Me:  UNCLE, YOU WIN, YOU WIN!  JUST DON’T LET THE DONKEY BLOW!  I’LL GIVE YOU THE GOOD HAY!  (I’m sobbing now)  OK.  OK.  You win, you brats.  Just please, don’t let the donkey blow.

And with that one all-powerful weapon, “the threat of BurroBlast”, I was defeated.

Behold: Their secret weapon hiding in the barn...

HORSE AND MAN is a blog in growth… if you like this, please pass it around!

JANUARY DROP IN THE BUCKET FUND:  THE PAIUTE ORPHAN FOALS

To learn all about the Bucket Fund and to donate the the ‘Saved from Slaughter Orphan Foals’, please click on the photo (photo credit, Trish Lowe)

Boxing Day… Maybe a warm Mash for your furry friends and a few words to warm hearts.

Sunday, December 26th, 2010
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Today is Boxing Day.

For me, I usually feel fairly mellow.  It is a day that I like to give to my horses who have been somewhat neglected in the weeks preparing for the Holidays.

So, today, for me, is warm mash day.  I just pour hot water over bran, add some tasty horse-loving ingredients and dollop the goodstuff into their buckets.  YUM-MEE!  I hear their contented slurping and I see the brown happygoo all over their muzzles.  I love that.

And, since today is such a lazy day for me, I’ve decided to compile special horsey sayings/quotes and some prayers.  I hope you enjoy scrolling through them.  I had fun creating this list.  Feel free to add more in the Comments section…

A COMPILATION OF HORSE QUOTATIONS, SAYINGS AND PRAYERS.

Tribute to the Horse by Robert Duncan
2006
09.09
Robert Duncan’s “Tribute To The Horse”?(read at every, Horse of the Year Show in London)
Where in this world can man find nobility without pride, friendship?without envy, beauty without vanity? Here, where grace is laced?with muscle, and strength by gentleness confined.?He serves without servility; he has fought without enmity. There?is nothing so powerful, nothing less violent; there is nothing so quick,?nothing more patient.?Our past has been borne on his back. All our history is his industry:?we are his heirs, he is our inheritance.?Ladies and Gentlemen: The Horse!

There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.  ~Winston Churchill

Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.  ~W.C. Fields

It is not enough for a man to know how to ride; he must know how to fall.  ~Mexican Proverb

It’s always been and always will be the same in the world:  The horse does the work and the coachman is tipped.  ~Author Unknown

The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse’s ears.  ~Arabian Proverb

There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.  ~Robert Smith Surtees, “Chapter XXX: Bolting the Badger,” Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour, 1853

A horse loves freedom, and the weariest old work horse will roll on the ground or break into a lumbering gallop when he is turned loose into the open.  ~Gerald Rafert

All I pay my psychiatrist is the cost of feed and hay, and he’ll listen to me any day.  ~Author Unknown

A Hibernian sage once wrote that there are three things a man never forgets:  The girl of his early youth, a devoted teacher, and a great horse.  ~C.J.J. Mullen

In riding a horse we borrow freedom.  ~Helen Thomson

Wherever man has left his footprint in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization we will find the hoofprint of the horse beside it.  ~John Moore

Horses – if God made anything more beautiful, he kept it for himself.  ~Author Unknown

“All horses deserve, at least once in their lives, to be loved by a little girl.”
Author Unknown

“The horse.  Here is nobility without conceit, friendship without envy, beauty without vanity. A willing servant, yet never a slave.”
Ronald Duncan

“A true horseman does not look at the horse with his eyes, he looks at his horse with his heart.”
Author Unknown

“to ride or not to ride what a stupid question”

“7 days without horses makes one weak”

“whoever said money can’t buy happiness never bought horses”

“Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby to be picked up and laid down like a game of Solitaire.
It is a grand passion. It seizes a person whole and, once it has done so, he will have to accept
that his life will be radically changed .” Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Whoever said a horse was dumb, was dumb” -Will Rogers

ALSO saw a GREAT T-Shirt that was written upside down and backwards… “If you can read this, PLEASE put me back on my horse!”…

One way to stop a runaway horse is to bet on him.
- Jeffrey Bernard

Farriers are like cats.
They don’t like to go out in the rain
and they don’t come when you call them.

Grooming: the process by which the dirt on the horse is transferred to the groom

When riding my horse I no longer have my heart in my chest, but between my knees

One white foot, buy him.
Two white feet, try him.
Three white feet, be on the sly.
Four white feet, pass him by.

Ten Ways To Get In Shape To Own A Horse
1.    Drop a heavy steel object on your foot. Don’t pick it up right away. Shout “Get off,stupid! Get off!”
2.    Leap out of a moving vehicle and practice “Relaxing into the fall”. Roll lithely into a ball, and spring to your feet!
3.    Learn to grab your checkbook out of your purse/pocket and write out a $200. check without even looking down.
4.    Jog long distances carrying a halter and holding out a carrot. Go ahead and tell the neighbors what you’re doing.They might as well know now.
5.    Affix a pair of reins to a moving freight train and practice pulling it to a halt. And smile as if you are really having fun.
6.    6. Hone your fibbing skills. “See hon, moving hay bales is fun!” and ” I’m glad your lucky performance and multi-million dollar horse won you first place – I’m just thankful that my hard work and actual ability won me second place”.
7.    Practice dialing your chiropractors number with both arms paralyzed to the shoulder, and one foot anchoring the lead rope of a frisky horse.
8.    Borrow the US Army slogan; “Be all that you can be’…(add) bitten, thrown, kicked, slimed, trampled.”
9.    Lie face down in the mud in your most expensive riding clothes and repeat to yourself: “This is a learning experience, this is a learning experience,…”
10.    Marry Money!

You Know You’re A Horse Person When…
…your horse gets new shoes more often than you do.
…your mouth waters at the sight of a truck full of hay.
…every time you drive past a road construction sight you think what nice jumps the barricades would make.
…you consider a golf course as a waste of good pasture land.
…your friends no longer ask to get together after school/work or on a weekend because they know you’ll say, “I can’t, I have to ride.”
…you pull a $17,000 horse trailer with a $1,000 pick-up truck.
…you buy duct tape by the case, and carry rolls in your pocketbook, briefcase, backpack, and car trunk.
…you realize finding a horse shoe is truly lucky because you’ve saved ten bucks.
…your boyfriend complains that you love your horse more than you love him and you say: “And your point is..?”
…someone does something nice for you and you pat them on the neck and say ‘good boy’.
…you try to get by someone is a restricted space and instead of saying “excuse me” to him/her, you cluck at them instead.
…you show up for an appointment in your city clothes and when you get there people reach across the table to pick alfalfa out of your hair.
…no one wants to ride in your car because they’ll get sweet feed and hay in their socks and on their clothes…but that’s ok because you’ll have to rearrange all the tack to make room for them anyway!
…you look at all the piles of laundry sitting next to your washing machine and most of them are breeches, horse blankets, saddle pads, etc…. but you don’t even care about the horsey hair residue that will be left in your washer and dryer.
…you say “whoa” to the dog.
…your mother, who has no grandchildren, gets cards addressed to Grandma, signed by the horses and dogs.
…you see the vet more than your child’s pediatrician.
…you groom your horse daily for hours and you haven’t seen a beautician since…?
…someone asks for a screwdriver and you hand them a hoof pick.
…you clean tack after every ride but you never, ever, wash the truck.
…on rainy days, you organize the tack room, not the house.
…you can remember worming schedules, lessons, and farrier visits in your head, but often forget your class schedule, household chores, and meals.
…you are unreasonably pleased to get a horse item, ANY horse item, as a gift.
…you stop channel surfing at Budweiser Clydesdale commercials.
…books and movies are ruined for you if horsemanship references aren’t correct.
…you actually get to a point where flies don’t bother you that much anymore.

Horse Terminology!
Event Prospect = Big Fast Horse
Dressage Prospect = Big Slow Horse
Hack Prospect = Pretty Color
Sporting Prospect = Short Fast Horse
Camp Prospect = Fast Horse which can turn
Endurance Prospect = Fast Horse which will turn sometimes
Flashy = White Socks
Attractive = Bay
15.2hh = 14.3hhh
16.2hh = 15.3hh
To Loving Home = Only Expensive
To Show Home Only = Very Expensive
Needs Experienced Rider = Potentially Lethal
Elegant = Thin
In Good Condition = Foundered
Free Moving = Bolts
Quiet = Lame in Both Front Legs
Dead Quiet = Lame in All Four Legs
Good in Traffic (Bombproof) = Lame all Round, Deaf and Blind
Loves Children = Kicks and Bites
Pony Type = Small and Hairy
Arab Type = Looks startled
TB Type = Looks Terrified
Quarter Horse Type = Fat
Warmblood Type = Big and Hairy
Draught Type = Big and Exceedingly Hairy
Easy to Catch = Very Old
Must Sell = Wife has left home and taking kids
All Offers Considered = I am in Traction for 6 months

Nobody has ever bet enough on a winning horse.
- Richard Sasuly

Ride the horse in the direction that it’s going.
- Werner Erhard

The love for a horse is just as complicated as the love for another human being…if you never love a horse, you will never understand.

Never ride faster than your guardian angel can fly  (I love this one…)

The Horse’s Prayer
“To thee, my master, I offer my prayer. Feed me, water and care for me, and, when the day’s work is done, provide me with shelter, a clean, dry bed and stall wide enough for me to lie down in comfort.
Always be kind to me. Talk to me. Your voice often means as much to me as the reins. Pet me sometimes, that I may serve you the more gladly and learn to love you. Never strike, beat or kick me when I do not understand what you want, but give me a chance to understand you. Watch me, and if I fail to do your bidding, see if something is not wrong with my gear or my feet.
Do not check me so that I cannot have the free use of my head. If you insist that I wear blinders, so that I cannot see behind me as it was intended I should, I pray you be careful that the blinders stand well out from my eyes.
Do not overload me, or hitch me where water will drip on me. Keep me well shod. Examine my teeth when I do not eat; I may have an ulcerated tooth and that, you know, is very painful. Do not tie my head in an unnatural position, or take away my best defense against flies and mosquitoes by cutting off my tail. I cannot tell you when I am thirsty, so give me clean, cool water often. Save me, by all means in your power, from that fatal disease – the glanders. I cannot tell you in words when I am sick, so watch me, that by signs you may know my condition. Give me all possible shelter from the hot sun, and put a blanket on me, not when I am working but when I am standing in the cold. Never put a frosty bit in my mouth; first warm it by holding it a moment in your hands.
I try to carry you and your burdens without a murmur, and wait patiently for you long hours of the day or night. Without the power to choose my shoes or path, I sometimes fall on the hard pavements which I have often prayed might not be of cement but of such a nature as to give me a safe and secure footing. Remember that I must be ready at any moment to lose my life in your service.
And finally, o my master, when my useful strength is gone, do not turn me out to starve or freeze, or sell me to some cruel owner to be slowly tortured and starved to death; but do thou, my master, take my life in the kindest way, and your God will reward you here and hereafter. You will not consider me irreverent if I ask this in the name of Him who was born in a stable, Amen”

The Old One….

The young couple had made their usual hurried, pre-Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt the elderly parents with their small herd of horses.  The farm had been named “Lone Pine Farm” because of the huge pine which topped the hill behind the farm, and through the years had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside.  The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had taken their toll, but they sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day’s end.

Crossly, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the old folks.  ”Why do you not at least dispose of the “Old One.”  She is no longer of use to you.  It’s been years since you’ve had foals from her.  You should cut corners and save where you can.  Why do you keep her anyway?”  The old man looked down as his worn boot, scuffed at the barn floor, and his arm stole defensively about the Old One’s neck as he drew her to him and rubbed her gently behind the ears.  He replied softly, “We keep her because of love – only because of love.”

Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley.  So it was, that because of the leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn.  None saw the first spark fall.  None but the “Old One”.

In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay.  With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses.  But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back.  He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire’s fury.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife.  They thanked those who had come to their aid, and the old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as he clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana.  Brokenly he whispered, “We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas.  Let us, therefore, climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair.  We will look down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared.”

And so, he took her by the hand and helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his hand.  As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they looked up and gasped in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.  Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles.  And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass.  Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this.

Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy as he pulled his wife forward.  There, beneath the tree, was their Christmas gift.  Bedded down about the “Old One” close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it.  Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping daintily through the snow.  The foals were frightened and dashed about.  The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits.  The mares pressed uneasily against the “Old One” as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine.  And now, she lay among them and gazed at the faces of those she loved.  Her body was brittle with years, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift — because of love — only because of love.

Author – Reverend David L. Griffith

ENJOY YOUR DAY, EVERYONE!

HORSE AND MAN is a blog in growth… if you like this, please pass it around!

Our December Bucket Fund helps Tullie (the burned horse), Gump (the ugly horse), Dixie (the starved and sick horse) or the Wild Mustangs/Burros (the gathered horses). Click on the image to learn more!

Click for the Bucket Fund!

Time for a Sleigh Ride! Zenyatta’s day in the snow and a Ladybug!

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010
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I know we are all gearing up for the Holidays!  Since everyone is getting into the spirit, I wanted to add some more fun to the celebrations!

The first three videos are new and fun!   The videos after that are not so new but fun nonetheless!  Relax, Enjoy and Smile!

SLEIGH RIDE

I looked all over You Tube for a sleigh ride video.  Most of them were not INSIDE the sleigh, which is what I wanted… Then I found this one.  Perfect!

OK, this is a long video… but if you just imagine being all bundled up, having a bit of a bumpy ride, the crisp clean air tingling your face as you spill hot cocoa all over your down coat, you might just enjoy watching this glorious horse pattotey for 12 minutes!  I had it on as I was wrapping presents!  Very fun!

Click the image to take a Sleigh Ride!

Click the image to go on a ride!

ZENYATTA’S NEW HOME

What can I say… It is just heartwarming to see her frolick, free, in her new paddock.

I swear I was holding my breath when she went running off — partly because she is so gorgeous, but also because I was afraid, OMG, OMG DON’T HURT YOURSELF!  DON’T SLIP!  But, of course she didn’t.  She needs to be free.

I loved how her handler and she were so bonded.  He walks her and shows her the snow and the paddock.  He shows her the water trough.  She nudges him.  Very sweet.

I love it at 4:28.  I think this is the beginning of her touching the snow.  Either she didn’t know what it was or she is still finding her feet after her shoes were removed.  Dunno.  But, it is cute how she is placing her front feet.

Anyway, watch this glorious girl, in all her shiny finery, run free in her new paddock.  Enjoy!

Click the image to watch Zenyatta play!

LADYBUG

A college student noticed a ladybug that had flown into her dorm room.  It was playing with some candy sprinkles on her desk.  So, she filmed it.  (She must have a good camera to get that close…)  Anyway, I was fascinated by it so I’m posting this for you.

Click to watch the Ladybug and the Sprinkles!

YOU’VE PROBABLY ALL SEEN THIS SINGING ANIMAL CHRISTMAS VIDEO… BUT HERE IT IS AGAIN.

Click to hear the animals sing, Deck the Halls!


SNOWBALL FIGHT

I know you may have all seen this Budweiser snowball fight between the yearlings and the grownups.  It is very cute.  (Sorry this version is not very crisp… I couldn’t find the good one.)

Click to watch the snowball fight between the yearlings and the grownups!

WHILE WE ARE ON BUDWEISER… THIS BABY CLYDE VIDEO IS VERY CUTE.

I cannot resist the baby Clyde video! Click to watch!

NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION CLYDE COMMERCIAL – “HANK”

New Year's Resolution Video - Hank! Click here.

MY PERSONAL ALL TIME FAV ANIMAL VIDEO, NOT FOR THE HOLIDAYS BUT STILL FUN:  “I SPY”

My personal fav... I spy. Click to watch.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


HORSE AND MAN is a blog in growth… if you like this, please pass it around!

LAST MINUTE GIFTS AVAILABLE IN AN INSTANT!!

Our December Bucket Fund

HELP AND GET A PAYBACK!!   Donation Gift Certificates are here (link)!  Yup, if you donate to help Tullie (the burned horse), Gump (the ugly horse), Dixie (the starved and sick horse) or the Wild Mustangs/Burros (the gathered horses), you can now get  “A Donation has been made in Your Honor” certificates to give as gifts!  You can give them to coworkers, family, friends or even in lost pets’ names… for this Holiday Season. Yay!  INSTANT KARMA!

Donkey Hate. I’m on the receiving end…

Friday, November 26th, 2010
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Ugh.  My donkey hates me.

Well, it probably isn’t me she hates, it is the behavior she feels I am exhibiting right now that she dislikes strongly (can you tell that I’ve been through counseling?).  To her, I’m acting like a cruel warden and she is not liking it.  AT ALL.

Why?

As I have mentioned earlier this week, Norma, my sweet, docile, nubile-lipped and curly haired donkey is sick with laminitis.  (Here is that link.)

So, she is now residing in a luxury stall, heavily bedded, inside the barn.

Norma no likey.  She thinks the Inn stinks and she is letting me know.  She is showing me a side of her that I knew existed — how else would she manage thse Hooligan Shetlands in her paddock? — but I had never seen this attitude directed at ME.  Sigh.  Alas today, she’s showing me her best Donkey Hate.

And let me tell you, she’s good at it…

Norma and the culprit... rich, green grass.

DONKEY HATE

Donkey Hate, as Norma subscribes to it, is the opposite of Donkey Love.  Donkey Love is her normal state.  She usually moves close to me, nudging me lovingly with her enormous head… she always asks me to rub her long and gorgeous ears and then she turns her tiny rump to me for scratches. Sometimes she’ll check my pockets for treats but usually she is very respectful and soft.

Norma in her stall... can you see her? (My lens has rain on it...)

Donkey Hate is the total opposite.

Donkey Hate, I have now come to find, is Norma not looking at me, purposefully bending her neck away from me, deliberately hugging the opposite wall to where I might be standing, ignoring me, turning her butt to intimidate me and, lastly, refusing to let me touch any hair on her body.  A fly couldn’t land as lightly as I’ve tried with Norma and she still does the Limbo when my hand hovers near.  I am the enemy.  I am the reason she is living in Stall Hell.  Therefore, I need to be punished, donkeystyle.

There she is! Just the tops of her ears are visible. Poor girl.

NORMA’S POINT OF VIEW

OK OK, I can see her point of view.  Since I brought her home at the sprite age of 2, she has lived happily outside for 15 years.  And, being a fine specimen of donkey fortitude, in 15 years she has never been ill (aside from her first bout with laminitis when she was being watched by others).  So, Norma has never been in a stall and has never been confined.  She has always had it really easy because I never ask anything of her and she never misbehaves.  When you compare her to her pasturemates (the Shetlands…), she’s an angel.

To her, this horrible treatment is not OK and is very unbecoming to an owner.  Besides, her feet hurt so that makes her a bit cranky anyway…

I will not look at you and don't come near me.

MY TORTURE METHODS

According to Norma, my torture of her started the first hour I had her in the stall.  I was struggling to wrap her feet and she had had enough.  She told me to stop and I didn’t.  First Ding on the Donkeyometer.

Then, I closed the stall door behind me.  The Nerve!  Second ding.

Do NOT touch me... and I turn my rear on you! Bad Human.

I didn’t listen to her brays of, “Hey, you forgot to let me outta here!”  Third donkeyding.

Banamine.  Yikes.  I completely insulted her by putting a syringe of medicine in her mouth.  I mean, at least at worming time, EVERYONE has to endure this.  But today, just her.  And, it was really nasty against her delicate palate.  Donkeyding four.

I turned off the radio and left the barn.  Uh oh.  Double donkeyding.

I want to be OUT THERE. Get it? Out... OUT!

I came back the next morning and gave her the same hay she didn’t eat from the night before.  Ewwwww.  Now it was WAR.

Then, to top it off, I proceeded to try to medicate her A-GAIN.  I begged her to eat mashes laced with stuff she didn’t want to know about.  I rewrapped her feet and continued to irritate her beyond the donkey codes of engagement.  I was out of line.  That was it.  The Donkey Breaking Point had been catapulted beyond burro decency.  I needed to be punished.  Big Time.

Me, on my knees below her, begging with submission for a nuzzle... Nope.

THE PUNISHMENT

I was not allowed to make eye contact.  I was not allowed to enter her stall.  If I did, she would not get anywhere near me.  I was to only see her rump and I was not, NOT allowed to touch her in any way, shape or form.  Those were the rules.

However, in my opinion, her best move was what I am calling the MORE STUBBORN THAN YOU COULD EVER BE donkey punishment of not swallowing – at ANY cost.

I put the Banamine way back into her throat (after a struggle, believe me) and she would not swallow.  I massaged her neck (as she strained against my touch), I pushed on her glottis, I tried to distract her, I sang to her, I walked her (with my hand making sure she didn’t open her mouth), I cajoled her… I did everything I could think of.  After a half hour, I moved my hand away from her mouth and she spat out a huge wad of donkey saliva and Banamine.

TAKE THAT!

Oooouuh.  She was GOOD.

MY RETALIATION

I have no kids so perhaps I don’t really know my way around the Pouting arena.  My retaliation tactics now seem juvenile as I recount them for you…

First, I made a very yummy mash and put her favorite grass pellets in there.  I offered it to her and she sniffed at it and then turned away.  Figures.  So, then I scooped some up in my hand and offered it to her.  She gave a cursory, barely there lip reach and then stuck out her tongue and walked away.  YUK!  I TAKE NOTHING FROM YOU, TRAITOR!

So, I made a huge deal out of scooping the lovely mush into four other bowls and offering it to the horses who were just outside her stall, begging for some of what Norma had.

The other horses eating Norma's mash, just outside her stall...

Me:  Oooooh, lookey you lucky horses!  Norma doesn’t want this yummy, yummy mash… do you?  Do you want Norma’s yummy mash?  Ohhhh, lookey, Mamma is putting pears on it just for you good horses.

Norma:  Whatev-ah.

(As all the other horses are slurping, loudly, Norma’s exmash, I entered her stall with another potion.)

Soaking wet Gwen sticks her head in and I seize the opportunity! Note Norma's tush facing me.

Me:  How about this?  Mmmmmmmmm.  All the other horses are eating a lovely dish from Mom.  How about you?  Eh, Norma?!

The black blob in the front is my sleeve/hand which is feeding the brown blob which is Gwen's mouth. Norma is disgusted.

Norma:  Horses are stoopid.  Uh… No.

Me:  Awww, C’mon.  Please…!!  (pleading)

Norma:  Talk to the hoof.

(At this point, I’m quite frustrated.  Luckily, Gwen, one of my Morgan mares (who is always willing to eat…) stood on her tippy-toes and stuck her head through the stall window.  Norma hates Gwen.  This was quite an intrusion to her and very upsetting.  I seized the opportunity.)

Me:  Ahhh, Gwen, would you like some of Norma’s delicious gruel?

GWEN:  YEEEESSS!  YESSY YESSITY YES!

Me:  OK, here you go, good girl.  (I awkwardly took some mash and put it into Gwen’s upturned, weird perched mouth as she opens it blindly because she couldn’t see in at this angle.)  MMMMM.  Good, huh Gwen?!  Yummmy.

GWEN:  MMMMMMM, YES, KEEP IT COMING!  as she bangs her hooves on the barn wall in excitement!

Gwen is happily chewing. Norma turns her butt to me and is listening to me praise Gwen. I've hit a new low.

Norma:  You both deserve each other… Humph.  (walking away and putting her head in a corner).

(pause)

Yup.  That’s my skill set right there…

NOW WHAT?

Well, she needs to eat her medicine and she needs to feel better… and I need for her to know that somewhere, down deep in her donkey brain, I’m trying to help her.  But, just in case she is really, indeed, angry with me, I’ve stooped.

(Kinda like when we make deals with God when we think we are in trouble…)

I knew I needed to get the Banamine in her so I did the unthinkable.  I cut open a pear (no sugary fruit when an equine is suffering laminitis), created a pear meat flap, put the Banamine under the pear flap and fed it to Norma.

She liked it.  Gobbled it up.  She even looked at me for an instant, but I saw it!  I did a little dance.

I figured Norma and I both gave a little (although she clearly won).  I’m sure she tasted the Banamine but she finally got her desires of wanting better treatment from me, and I got the meds into her.

Norma – 250 pts

Mom – 1.  But, it was a good one.

Post Pear attitude change... "Hey, got any more of that? I'll let you pet me..."

HORSE AND MAN is a blog in growth… if you like this, please pass it around!

The November Bucket Fund will benefit The Wild Horses and Burros, via DreamCatcher Sanctuary.  We are helping them acquire an additional 20,000 acres to release more captured Mustangs/Burros back into the wild.  To learn all about the Bucket Fund and to donate to this incredible opportunity for our Mustangs,  please click on the photo (photo credit, Trish Lowe)

Help the Gathered Mustangs!

INSTANT KARMA DO GOODING!
HELP WITH PAYBACK!!   Donation Gift Certificates are here!  Yup, if you donate to help Tullie (the burned horse), Gump (the ugly horse), Dixie (the starved and sick horse) or the Wild Mustangs/Burros (the gathered horses), you can now get  “A Donation has been made in Your Honor” certificates to give as gifts!  You can give them to coworkers, family, friends or even in lost pets’ names… for this Holiday Season. Yay!  INSTANT KARMA!

Click here for the gift donation certificates!