Horse and Man

I’m continuing to only post happy events this week.  So, I thought I would tell you a personal happy ending story –  which was sure to be a tragedy –  about my dog, Dex.

But first …

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DEXTER, THE ESCAPE ARTIST

I have an Australian Kelpie.  His name is Dexter because when I was in Australia, I worked with a guy named Dexter.  Every time the other crew members would call his name, it sounded like “Deec-Sta”.  I loved that!  And, when they called him his nickname, Dex, is sounded like, “De-eeks”.  Since I had such a great time in Australia, when I found myself adopting an Australian Kelpie from the shelter, the name just had to be Dexter.

The Australian Kelpie, Dex, photographed this morning

Having had Dex for 11 years now, I can honestly say that he is a true Australian Kelpie.  Not only does he look just like a Kelpie (dingoish), but he has the Australian outpost jailbird scalawag darling mentality to boot.  He is Crocodile Dundee in fur.  There is no wall too high, mountain too far or ocean too deep for this dog to attempt an outing.  Well, the water part is not quite true.  He does hate water.  But, you get my drift…  This dog can climb a 6′ chain link fence.  He can be gone for days and come back as if nothing is out of the ordinary with that, “What are you looking at?” face when he finally does reappear.

Come to think of it, I should create a “Dexter’s Island” with a very deep moat surrounding it.  That would probably be the only thing to keep him in.  However, my luck, he’d be like the Professor and build a raft from the surrounding foliage.  Dexter has an IQ larger than most humans and he uses it.  The best part is, you don’t know what he is masterminding until it is too late.  For example. Dex will sit for many hours on top of his favorite pillow by the dog waterer.  He owns the water and lords over all animal-kind from his perch on the porch.

Le de dah.  Hours and days pass where Dex just sits there, lapping water, humming and snapping at flies.  Then one day out of the blue, he’s gone.  There’s a note and an acetylene torch path cut through the iron gate.  “Be back lay-ta (say that with an Aussie accent)”.  He’s gone.

Now, I know this about Dex.  We’ve tried everything from duct tape to the Invisible Fence.  The only way to always keep him in is to put him in a large kennel with a roof.  The last time I did that, he went on a hunger strike and did not give it up.  He wouldn’t eat or drink.  The most successful containment device now is a cable between two trees.  He likes that.  So, at the moment, until he becomes so arthritic that he cannot do his fantastical feats, Dexter has told me that he prefers to be on his cable run near the water trough on his favorite pillow unless he barks once.  If he barks once, he wants to be let inside to sit on his favorite pillow by the window.  Oh, and he demands to be with me when I am feeding the horses.  For some reason, this time is exempt from any escape attempts but I don’t know why…  During these two periods in the day, Dexter stays put.  He wanders around the property but always ends up at the barn for his meal.  Whatever.  So be it.  He wins.  As long as he stays around here, he can have it his way.

HIS MULTIPLE COLLARS

So, Dexter wears a black collar with a strong ring for his cable line.  Then, he wears a bright orange collar with his phone number stitched on.  I guess it isn’t really his phone number, but if you call that number, he gets a ride.

IN HIS MIND, HE IS NEVER LOST…

I find this idea hysterical.  I mean, what does the dog think?  He wanders off the property and when he’s tired, he walks up to a human or a glass door of some type and waits for the human or the humans behind the glass door to see his orange collar and make the call.  Then, Dex just sits there with the bowl of fresh water the humans always give him and he waits.  He waits for me to show up.  What does he think is happening?

Does he think that I have ESP and just know where he is when he is ready to be picked up?  Does he think all humans know each other?    As far as he is concerned, he is never lost because I always show up.  No matter where he has gone and no matter what time of day or night, if he walks up to a human, a few hours later, Mom shows up.  Simple.  Easy.  Wow.

THAT FATEFUL DAY

But one Thanksgiving Day, amid all the confusion, Dex was let out.  All my High Security Defcon 11, airlock , double door hydraulic and monitoring systems had failed.  He was out without supervision… and so he left.  Of course.

But, this time he didn’t have his phone number.  Uh Oh.  I took off his bright orange embroidered collar to wash it for his holiday appearance.  So, Dex left the house with only his black collar.  He was, essentially, naked.  And, no matter how many humans he greeted, none of them would help him.  On this day, all of the systems had failed.

I WAS PANICKED

I was so upset I couldn’t think.  I adore Dex even though he frustrates me to no end…  I was so upset that he had been let out during a time other than our agreed upon exempt times.  I was upset at the bad luck I had by removing his collar just that morning to wash it.  Oy.  I was devastated that I would never see my boy again.  I was crushed thinking that Dex would go up to some human and expect me to show up soon — to no avail.  I was terrified someone would just keep him…

AFTER ONE NIGHT

After one night of no sleep, I gave up on my bed and went into the office to create a flyer.  I made a zillion of these things and I was ready with my staple gun to fire them into every neighboring post.  By sunrise, I had them in a stack.  First, I waited to call and notify all the local shelters.  After that, I left to canvas the neighborhood.

THE FIRST POLE

The first pole I hit was the closest one which is by the newspaper boxes.  Everyone puts notes there.  I had mine in a plastic sleeve so it wouldn’t get damaged too easily.  Holding my breath and saying a prayer, I wielded my staple gun into action and BLAMMO!  It was up.

There.  I had done something proactive.

As I started to turn around, I heard a car approach.  It stopped abruptly behind me.  The driver got out with a stack of flyers.  He said he was driving to work but had wanted to put his flyer up early.  “I found this dog…”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?  YOU FOUND A DOG?  WHAT KIND OF DOG?”, I blurted frantically.

“I don’t know. He’s black and white and looks like a mutt.”

“DOES HE LOOK LIKE THIS,”  I said, holding up my flyer…

In one move, he held up his flyer…  It did look like him.  Exactly.

And, sitting in the back of Flyerman’s car was my dog, looking at me through the side window, wagging his tail.  Dex looked at the guy who had been his chauffeur and shot him a grin as if to say, “See, I told you she would show up; she always does…”

And, Dex was right.  I do always show up…  “No worries, mate, no worries.”

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Is your horse showing signs of being transbred?  Or, perhaps, even more specifically, transspecied?

What do I mean?

Well, do you have a horse that looks like a certain breed and has papers to prove that breeding, but acts like another breed?  Or, acts like another species altogether?  And, it isn’t as if they are trying to act like another breed, they truly, in their hearts, think they are something else.

I call that Transbred.  And, in the case of a few of my horses, they are Transpecied.  They may look like a horse, but they think they are another animal altogether…

TRANSBRED

Finn the Wild Mustang TWH

Meet Finn.  He is my 10 year old Tennessee Walking Horse gelding.  However, he does not see himself as a TWH at all.  Oh sure, he’ll gait when he’s excited and he does a pretty good job of it.  But, he doesn’t identify with gaiting.  Nope.  His identity is with Jeremiah Johnson’s horse or Daniel Boone’s horse.  He would like to be on the trail that no other horse has traversed before.  He is a Free Range Wild Mustang from Tennessee.

Finn sees no use in gaiting on a flat road just for the sake of a nice ride together.  Wha?  “You want me to just gait down this road, again?  Why?  This makes no sense to me.”  No joke.  He would rather zig zag, moonwalk or shift one foot outside the trail then go where he has gone before.  No, this horse is not your average cotton field, flatlands, “I’ll gait just to have a smooth ride with my owner”  Tennessee Walking Horse.  Noooooh.  Finn is a Free Range Wild Mustang!  Give me uncharted territory or give me Death.  He is a heck of a great trail horse, for sure!

ICELANDIC SHETLAND PONY

Have you ever met an Icelandic Shetland?

VB, the prebred Icelandic Shetland

Me neither.  Until I birthed one here on the ranch. Her name is Violet Beauregard.  It fits.

I guess I should be clear.  VB is a full blooded Icelandic Horse.   I have her mother; she is a papered Icelandic mare.  And, although I didn’t watch her conception, I am pretty sure the sire was a well-known Icelandic stud imported from Iceland.  So I know that my little filly is actually an Icelandic Horse.

However, she thinks she is a Shetland.  This filly will turn over every bucket, unlock any door, rip open any feed bag, walk through any doorway, nibble anything, shake anything, shred anything, snake her neck and bang the gates like the best of the Shetlands (and I know because I have two Shetlands here).  VB will seek and destroy any and all things within her reach.  All the while, she will look as cute as a button and as angelic as possible.

And, she is angelic, sort-of.  She doesn’t mean to be destructive.  Its just that all things interest her for a moment until they have bored her and are no fun anymore.  Then she is “done” with that item and tosses it.  I would think she has ADD except she is always thinking about what she can destroy touch next so she is actually quite single minded.  Once someone described her as having a “high play drive”.  I almost spit up my Starbucks.  Y’think?  Understatement to me.  This girl is driven to… to… um, she’s just driven.  Period.

And, she hates to be ridden.  This is also a Shetland trait.  If you have ever ridden a Shetland, you know that their whole goal is to stop being ridden.  This is why all little girls should start with a Shetland.  If you can ride a Shetland, you can ride anything.  As a matter of fact, I put my 11 year old daughter on Violet Beauregard last week.  I kinda think they are a lot alike.  Anyway, they were both in tears by the end of it.  I’m not sure who got the best piece of the other.  I think it was a draw.  I actually heard the bell sound when they entered the arena…  ;)

Anyway, VB is Transbred.  She thinks she’s a Shetland and as many times as I’ve tried to tell her that she is an Icy, she just doesn’t “feel” it.  Sigh.

TRANSSPECIED

Huh?  What do I mean by this?  Well, I have a few here that are not sure they are horses.  They identify more with other creatures.

THE LOCH NESS MORGAN MONSTER

Wrigley thinks he is Nessie.  Do you know what I mean?

Loch Ness Wrigley

Nessie is the sea creature from the Loch Ness.  You’ve seen the photos right?  Dinosaur body which is huge but mostly submerged and then this loooong neck protruding from the dark sea.

Yup.  That’s Wrigley.  If I had a photoshop program on my blog I would have cropped in a wave just below his body here.  You can draw it in your mind…  Can you see the similarity?

Wrig is an anomaly.  He is a Morgan.  I know this because I have his Momma and I know his Sire and arranged for the quickie matrimonial insemination.  Yet, he is not like any Morgan I’ve ever seen.  He is a freak of nature, in a good way, but still very otherworldly.  He is very tall.  He is the tallest horse here and he is only 2 and a MORGAN.  As you know, Morgans are not known for their size, ahem.  He is very floaty and stealth.  And, his neck is alien.  Not only is is very long and telescopic, but he can rotate it and move in ways unnatural for a horse.

So, I think he has seen the faded, grey photos of Nessie and has decided to make the myth a reality.  He is a mythical equine sea creature of epic proportions.  He is Loch Ness Wrigley.

LURCH POSSESSION.

Remember Lurch from the Addams Family TV series?

Lurch

Well, he has been reincarnated into my mustang mare, Remi.  That’s the truth.

Every time you walk into her field she comes over, like a good butler.  She stands in front of you and asks what you want.  And, as soon as you tell her, she rolls her eyes backwards and lets out a disgruntled retort.  You remember how Lurch did the exact same thing, right?

I mean, she has to feel a bit indentured since she was wild and then became caught and branded.  So, the butler sentiment comes honestly.  However, she does have the free Mustang spirit down deep so this whole servitude thing just really rubs her the wrong way.  However, she is a polite mare so she will come over to greet you and do the right thing.  Then, when you scratch her and tell her you are going to brush her or put her fly mask on, she rolls her eyes, gives a bit of Elvis lip curl and then lets out the Lurch grumbletude.

What’s weird about this grumbletude is that she actually likes to be brushed.  She likes to have her fly mask put on her face.  She likes a plethora of things that she pretends she doesn’t like.  Remi will roll her eyes and play Lurch no matter what.  And, so did Lurch.  You never saw him not being Lurch yet he stayed with the Addams’ and defended them often.  Same with Remi.  She loves it here.  It is just difficult to tell.  This is why I think she is Lurch.  After all, you never see them in the same room together…

TRANSBRED or TRANSSPECIED

So, I’m sure many of you may now begin to recognize the clinical signs of transbreeding or transspecied.  I think these syndromes are here to stay and I think we just have to, as caretakers, understand and roll with it.  If you have a mule that thinks it is a Fresian or a Percheron that thinks he is Baryshnikov, go with it.

Sometimes it is better to appreciate who they are inside instead of what they look like outside…