Horse and Man

I like vinyl fencing the best.  I had it around my Oregon pastures.  It was pretty and seemed to have far less breakage than the wood fences I have now.

The problem with the vinyl is that it is expensive and it is tough to clean.  You have to either lug a bucket of soapy water around or have miles of hose and extension cords to use your pressure washer.  But even with the its expense and maintenance, honestly, I prefer vinyl over wood.  If I could, I’d wrap vinyl all around my place.

But, I don’t have vinyl here.  I have wood.  Three rail wood fencing with round posts.  For those of you in the “fencing know” you’ll understand when I say I also have 6′, no-climb wire fencing around the perimeter with wood posts every 8′.  If you are nodding your head right now, you will totally get the rest of this post.  Today, I’m writing about fence woes.

In my mind, fences work if you don’t do stoopid things.  To me, if there is a fence mishap, I need to stand and take note.  What did I do to make this happen?

Most often, it is some inane thing I decided to do that created the fencing issue.  I shudda known better.  For sure, immediately upon noticing the newly sad and shattered wood boards, I always do the, “Oy, why did I do that?!” stomp.

So, today, I decided to go around to all the broken and newly mended fences and explain to you how most of these were avoidable  – after the fact.

But first, let me begin with how I woke up this morning… this is how I got the idea for this post today.

OMG!

I went out, bleery eyed, to feed and saw THIS.

Something is not right with the bottom rail...

Yup.  Remi and Bodhi had decided to send me a message.  Since they cannot write a cute note and send it in a bottle launched my way, they carved it into the fence.  Oh joy.

A closer look at their handywork

This is totally my fault because I forgot.  I forgot that this is August and there is no more of anything to nibble on in their pasture.  I also forgot to install lunches during this barren late summer month… And, I forgot to give them their new salt block.

Yup.  I’ve been very neglectful.  I’m sure Remi and Bodhi were trying to tell me in their subtle ways.  I did notice them hanging around the fence more than grazing.  I did notice that they were exceptionally interested when I was near the hay barn.  I also noticed that I hadn’t moved the new salt blocks out of the barn and into where they belong — basically because they weigh 50lbs each.  But, instead of acknowledging what I was noticing, I blissfully ignored my farmer duty.

So, Remi and Bodhi stepped up their game.  They carved their needs like a huge SOS on a sandy beach.  WE NEED FOOD, MINERALS AND SOMETHING TO DO.

"What? I tried to tell you...!"

OK, I hear you.  Today, we put in the salt blocks, I have initiated lunch and also strung some new hotwire, just to break this new habit.

THE “THIS IS MYYYYY BUCKET, GET OUTTA HERE” FENCE BREAK

This one is pretty easy to detect.  This happens when two horses have a power struggle or if one horse is just too pushy.  Now, any owner that takes the time to observe during feeding time will notice who is in command and who is a bully.  Understanding this, the smart owner/feeder will put the buckets far enough apart to stave off any hostile takeover.  Or, the smart feeder person would make sure the bully/dominant horse is content to eat somewhere alone and the other horses can eat in peace.

Did I do that this week?  Uh, no.  I decided that my bully mare, Gwen, would stay on one side of the barn while I fed the other horses on the other side of the barn.  (I have recently put the lead mare in the barn to tend to her canker.  The lead mare keeps Gwen in line.)  I neglected to note that the lead mare was no longer keeping things status quo.  I needed to take caution and reassess the situation.  But, I didn’t.  And, of course Gwen had to make sure that no one else was getting more grain than she was so she pushed everyone away from their grain buckets… except Sam who decided she’d had enough.  They had a duel.  The fence lost.

Where the bucket was hanging before the war...

WHY DID YOU PUT THAT HORSE IN WITH US?

Again, my error.  I was moving horses around to find a good combination for when Iron Man arrives.  I put Wrigley (2 yr Morgan) and VB (tough little Icy) in with my TWH pair, Finn and BG.  I figured that they had been living across the fence from each other for 2 years, this should work out fine.  Since Wrigley is already taller than Finn, I kinda thought they’d work it out.

Wrigley, cornered, leapt into the other pasture. No one was hurt, thank goodness.

Ooops.  My bad.  Not only did Finn intimidate the larger youngster, but he also didn’t want Wrigley anywhere near his sister.  And, to make things even worse, I created a corner by cross fencing that particular pasture.

When I put them together, immediately Wrigley and Finn started arguing.  Wrigley got chased into the corner and again, the fence lost.

(Actually, I’m glad it was the fence and not Wrigley who got slammed.  Needless to say, I was able to stop the bruhaha about 3 minutes after opening the gates of hell.  It doesn’t take long for boards to crack…)

I HATE THAT I’M IN HERE AND YOU ARE OUT THERE

This is Finn’s doing, again.  I had him in the arena because that is his favorite place to be.  He will stand in there all day long and watch over the other horses.  It is the highest point on the farm.

But, what I didn’t think about was Slick.  I let Slick, the most precocious pony, out of his pasture to be free.

Slick’s main goal in life is to annoy others.  So, after grabbing a mouthful of grass, he ran over to the arena to taunt Finn.  The stinker pony stood right outside the barren arena and munched on green grass – just outside of Finn’s reach.

Finn was beside himself, of course.  I was inside working when I heard the undeniable CRACK of hoof against wood.

Finn inside, Pony outside, fence loses.

Darn it!  Now what did I do?  I looked out my window and saw the pony running like a maniac down the hill towards the driveway.  I look up towards the arena and see Finn running the fenceline like he was on fire.  And, of course, I see the down boards.  Great.  Why didn’t I put Finn back into his pasture before I let the pony out?  Hubby will be angry on this one…

QUIT BITING MY BUTT WHEN I’M IN THE BATHROOM

This fence has been fixed as you can tell by the blond wood.  (I never get around to painting the fence as quickly as I should…)  This is Finn and BG’s pasture which abuts Wrigley and VB’s pasture.

This repaired break is directly behind the bathroom area of the Tennessee Walking Horses’ pasture.  Evidently, Wrigley and VB like to taunt Finn and BG when they are trying to relieve themselves.  I actually saw Wrigley lean over and bite BG in the hiney.  How annoying!  Well, on this particular day, BG had had enough of Wrigley’s nuisance behavior and she kicked the bejeesus out of the fence.  She took down three rails…  You should have seen Wrigley run away!   You’d have thought he was being chased by a mountain lioness.  And, kinda, he was… BG was pissed.   I think her ears stayed pinned for at least an  hour!  ;)

No peace in the potty area...

THIS IS MY NEW WATERER!

OK, well, I fixed this board already but it was over the new waterer.  I put a new trough in their pasture to supplement the other trough.  Evidently, someone took ownership of the new trough and a battle ensued.

Already fixed, this was the site of the BATTLE OF TROUGH

The fence took it bad on this one.  And, instead of subjecting the fence to any more injury, I moved the new trough.

BITEY FACE

This is where they play biteyface over the fence.  Sometimes the game gets out of hand and someone gets hurt… usually the fence.

The "biteyface" game. The fence loses, again.

THE DELIVERY GUY SCARED ME

Oy.  I hate this one.  I cannot control when a sudden move or noise wakes up a sleeping horse whose first instinct upon being startled is to kick and run!  Yup, all of my mares doze in the front corner of the front pasture by the driveway.  Some of the older mares are losing their hearing somewhat.  And, since cars go up and down the road fairly regularly, they kinda tune it all out.

OOps.  Sometimes the cars decide to come up the driveway.  Sometimes those cars are big trucks with diesel engines that make a big BACKFIRE noise as they switch gears up the steep hill.  And, oops, sleeping mares hear the backfire, have a sudden freakout, kick and ruuuuuuuunnnnnnnn!

OOps, sorry, I kicked the fence and it kinda broke…

I kicked it and it kinda broke...

I’m leaving the fence “as is” for now.  A gentle reminder that the only fence issue that I couldn’t avoid, is the only fence board still standing.

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I know, I know… what the heck is she talking about?!…

Well, “imaginary paintball” was the only description I could think of to tell this story.

Let me explain.  As I’ve said before about Finn, he thinks he is Daniel Boone’s horse.  He has to blaze new trails (as long as they aren’t scary) and he has to explore new horizons at every turn.  The problem with this is that Finn forgets what horizon he was exploring before another thing catches his interest…  If he were a human, he’d be one of the guys in THE HANGOVER.  He’d start out just going for a boys’ weekend in Vegas and end up with a broken tooth, a lion in the bathroom, $40,000 in his pocket and no memory of how any of it happened.  That’s Finn.  A trail ride is never just a trail ride.  We don’t just mosey down the path… we have to go here, check this out, explore that, touch the other thing, look above, jump down, jump over, sniff and basically behave like a ten year old kid in a candy store with ADD.

On the other hand, it is never boring…  And, truth to tell, I find him endlessly entertaining and I spend the entire ride just musing over his horsey thoughts.

So, back to imaginary paintball.

OK here goes:

IMAGINARY PAINTBALL

Finn and I were doing our usual multi-tasking while trail riding…

Me:  OK, let’s go up here…

F:  Up here?

Me:  Yup

F:  What did you say?

Me:  Go up here.

F:  Didja see that??!!

Me:  It was a bird.

F:  Uh uh!  It was a… hey, look — BLACKBERRIES!  YUM.  Can we stop?!

Me:  No, keep going.

F:  Puleeeze?  I’ll stand right here while you get off and pick some.

Me:  No.  Get up here!

F:  OK.  Let’s canter!  Wait!  I think I see…

Me:  C’MON.

F:  A low hanging branch!  (screeching to a halt)  Are you going to cut that?

Me:  No.

F:  What?

You get my drift… It is a constant jibberjabber of nonsense and chatter as we ride.  He always has an opinion and has no fear voicing it.  I always have an opinion about his opinions so we meander down the trail at uneven speeds, often stopping or playing at will.  It’s so much fun!  It is also a good thing that we do this alone or else I’d have no riding friends left…

TODAY

So, we were making our way up a hill and over a steel pipe that led us into another part of the State Park, when for no reason, Finn defied gravity.  We were in mid-air jumping over the steel pipe when he managed to change direction and crab totally to the right while looking frantically to the left.  As we hit the ground, he was still looking fully left but going to the right in the best side pass run I’ve ever seen!  I was scrambling and trying to figure out what was going on as we flew sideways towards some mean looking brambles.

“Hey, did I scare you?”  It was a biker who had appeared out of nowhere.  A nice biker.  He stopped and said that he didn’t see me.  I told him that we didn’t see him either.  I told him that we were fine, no worries.  We both smiled and parted ways.  He went down one trail and we went down another.

Little did I know, my fuzzy trail riding accomplice had other ideas.  Finn was not happy to have been snuck up upon.  He was making a plan.  And, that plan began with the simple words he uttered to himself, “Game On, Yellow Shirted Dude, Game On!”

GAME ON

Now, the funny thing is that no one but Finn knew we were playing.  I had a hint that something was up but I had no idea what.  You see, immediately after we parted ways with the cyclist, Finn had a vigor that he usually reserves for racing or heading back to the barn!  He was on a mission.

I hadn’t fully grasped this yet.  I was just happy that he had focused on something and that we were really moving out.  He was gaiting and popping his teeth and really happy.  I thought about how fun this was and how much we need to find some flat areas to scream over more often.  La-De-Da.  Here’s me, all happy and singsongy on the back of my horse while Finn was planning his equine revenge.

And then he stopped, ears pricked.

“Huh?  What is it buddy?” I asked innocently.  His ear twitches from side to front.  He was listening…  And then he took off again like a bullet, straight towards an opening in the trees.  Yes, there was a slight deer trail but it wasn’t really cleared enough for a human on a horse so I didn’t let him go there.  Arrrrrgh!  Oh he was pissed.  He wheeled around and took off down the trail, beating tracks like he was late for a train.  I was starting to get concerned.  Were we late for a train?

All of a sudden, we burst through the foliage and stopped dead on the trail.  Finn was still listening intently.  No one was around so I gave him the rein because I was now really, really curious what was up with him.  As quiet as a mouse, he backed up ever so slightly into the brush and we waited.  Actually, I didn’t realize that we were waiting.  I just thought we were listening.  And then, in a powerful jet of emotion, Finn leaped out onto the trail, took about 6 steps, rounded a corner and came face to face with the cyclist again.  BLAMMO!, Finn planted his front feet right in front of the cyclist and halted like a statue.  The cyclist stopped immediately and Finn did a little jig and jumped backwards about 5 feet.  “GOTCHA!”  Finn was tittering with glee!

It all happened so fast.  Did I just experience what I thought I experienced?  I was floored.  I could not comprehend what had just happened.  Did Finn just ambush the cyclist?  How could that be?  I dismounted and asked the cyclist if he was OK.  He was.  He asked if my horse did that on purpose… because it seemed like he did.  I said that horses don’t think like that.  They are prey animals and blah blah blah.  Weird, though.  I apologized profusely and told him that I had no idea he was coming down the blind trail.  (But obviously my horse did.)

OK, fast forward about 10 minutes.  I had totally forgotten the cyclist and was just keeping up with Finn’s ongoing chatter.  We were jerking down the trail, doing this and that when all of a sudden, he pricked his ears again and really, really wanted to go very quickly towards something.  I went with it because I could not believe it was happening again.  (I still don’t.)  This time, Finn perched us above a path.  He purposefully went to the spot and stopped.  We were on an upper hill of a path, looking down.  His ears were pricked up the path.  I heard nothing.  And then, flappyflappyclickyclick…  The bike was coming.  I couldn’t believe it.  How could this possibly be happening again?  So, I waited.

Yup.  It was him.  It was the same yellow shirted cyclist, coming down that particular trail.  And, as if in a dream because I couldn’t believe this was happening, Finn asked me if we could jump down there.  Finn was agitated and excited.  “FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, NO!”, I yelled at him.

The cyclist heard me and stopped.  “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”   Now he was a little upset, sort-of.  More startled, really.

I said, “I’m so sorry!  He is crazy today!  He thinks we are playing paint ball or something!”  The cyclist was pretty amused and he started laughing.  “OK, are you saying that the horse is playing with me ” he said.  “I know it sounds impossible, but I think he is…”  “Fine, let’s play!”  He said he would go down this path and then veer off somewhere unknown.  He dared us to find him.

I didn’t need to tell Finn.  He was still playing…

Now this is the part where I feel like I’m from another planet when I tell you that Finn continued on with a mission… He ran and jogged and smelled the ground and the air and we were flying through the brush like it was an open meadow.  Finally, he paused behind a very skinny tree next to a single track.  (Isn’t it funny how horses sometimes think they are hiding if the tree is as wide as their heads?)  He stopped so quickly, I was about to eat his mane…  And, we sat there, waiting.

Low and behold, the cyclist was behind us.  Finn’s ears were pricked backwards.  He knew.  But, I also think he thought he was hidden by this measly tree in front of us.  Of course, this made no sense, but in his horseyhead, this was hiding.  Anyway, the cyclist came up behind us and stopped.  Finn erupted backwards and wheeled around as if to blow at him.  But, the cyclist was just standing there on the ground with his bike next to him.  Finn was confused.

“Sorry, Dude, you lose… Gotcha!”  and he reached out and tagged Finn on his loin.  With that, the cyclist shot off down the trail, laughing really, really loudly.

Finn looked at me as if to say, “But how could he see me?  I was hidden?!”

It was clear that the biker was going back to the parking lot so I made Finn go another way.  I felt weird and kinda stupid that my 1100lb horse was playing paintball chicken with a cyclist — or I am insane…   After about 10 minutes and long enough for the cyclist to have driven away with his bike securely fastened to the roof, we headed back to the lot.  Finn charged forward, thinking he might just meet his foe once again.  And, as he pranced into the trailer area where all the horse chariots awaited, Finn set his eyes on the car lot instead.

Out from the trees stepped the yellow breasted cyclist.  “Hey Buddy, wanna carrot?”  Finn was in horsey heaven!  “Sure!”  We gaited over with the same gusto as when we were on the trail.  Finn stopped on a dime in front of the cyclist and sort of sneeze/blew/whinnied at him and gingerly took the carrot.   While he chewed, he bobbed his head so pleased with himself…

“I’ve never seen a horse act like this horse,” the cyclist said with a smile.

“Me, Neither”, I said as I looked at him and shook my head, “I forgot my camera and no one will believe this.”

He smiled, got into his Subaru and said, “Well, I’m gonna tell this story for the rest of my life!”

Finn just stood there so proud — obviously he had won the game.  He got a carrot!  You coulda popped his chest with a pin.

You see, with Finn, what might start out as just a trail ride, ends up as the Imaginary Paint Ball Championships against the Yellow Crested Cyclist!

I love him.

"Game On!"