Saturday, July 28, 2012

In Sickness and in Health

Mother has been absent again... She grew colic-y Tuesday evening, rallied briefly enough to come visit me the next evening, then succumbed to her sick bed.

She even went to the human equivalent of the vet clinic to be examined, fluid enhanced, tested, and declared slightly diseased and sent home.

More days passed. She tried to remain positive...

Dear Intestines,
I know you are revolting.
PLEASE behave! 
Sincerely, the Management

Sometimes, not so positive. More like surly:

Dear ER,
Thank you for charging me $100 for what I already knew. 
How about checking for things *I can't*?

What does she want, an NG tube? A scan? I had those when I went for surgery... she should just be happy she wasn't sick enough to NEED those things.

Trust me, I know.

Blech. I'm feeling sick just thinking about all this.

Maybe Mother will come up to see me tomorrow. I'd really like to get to eat on the lawn.

I hope she's not still moaning.

Monday, July 23, 2012


Hey, Bif! We have company!

We do?

Oh... Hi.
Uhh... I wasn't expecting anyone... 

The place is a mess.
Good help can be hard to find, you know.

I could straighten up a little.

There, that's better.
Uh, let's just head outside, shall we?

 Go on, I'm right behind you.

Umm, pardon the donkeys.

They're kind of everywhere.

And apparently, they itch. I'm sure there is a joke in there somewhere...


I've resigned myself to their existence...

I mean, I  guess they are kind of cute in a way...

If you're in to that sort of thing...


Take me with you?

Monday, July 16, 2012

Annual Review

Being a pasture puff is more work than many may realize. Not only do you protect your herd and have to forage for food, you have to train (or at least maintain the training of) your human with somewhat less contact than a "working" horse might have. To this end, doing objective evaluations allows you to spot any deficiencies and assist you in planning your training curriculum.

OK, I didn't really think this idea up myself. I stole it from Paradigm Farms.

Core competencies:

A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
Mother is a good groomer, usually, but only if she SHOWS UP to do it. That being said, I hesitate to grade her too harshly, as she might decide it is just easier to give me baths.

Riding abilities:
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
In this category, Mother does great... because I don't get ridden anymore. This is a chance to pad her grade.

On time completion of scheduled activities, farrier, vet, vaccinations, de-worming: 
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
Some of these items are unpleasant, but necessary. My feet are good, I am parasite and disease free, lets just move on...

Level of endearing comments regarding said equines, both online and in person: 
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
Mother speaks poorly of me. I've heard her. 
I don't talk bad about her...

sniff. sniff.

Stylishness and comfort of transportation rig (trailer / truck):
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
I seldom travel anymore, but when I do it is usually Aunt Nancy's nice two horse or that other lady's gigantic step up trailer. Both are pretty nice (although the one is ridiculous to climb up in to).

Number of treats per interaction: 
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
Sometimes Mother doesn't come up, so those are lost cookie opportunities right there that will mark her down. Sometimes even when she is here, she doesn't even bother to give me a cookie! What the...??? Most of the time, though, I'll get between two and five cookies, so I probably shouldn't rock the boat too much.

Cleanliness of stables and pastures:
A: Needs improvement
B: Meets expectations
C: Exceeds expectations
The stalls are cleaned, the water is pristine, and the Small is kept reasonably tidy. I've lived in worse.

So over all... wow.
Out of 7 categories:

And those two "EXCEEDS" were in topics that don't matter anymore, like trailering and riding.

Hrmmph. I'm really going to have to step up my training program.
My human is terrible!!

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Pete and RePete were sitting in a boat... until Pete fell out

Mother told me we should repost this.


Serious Business: PSA

I'm not a gossipy type horse, and I don't believe in chain letters, but I do believe in changing misconceptions. So while this is a bit off topic (I don't even have a pond to swim in):

Drowning doesn't look like drowningWhat does it look like?

I am just one horse. But I have lots of human friends, and those friends have lots more friends.

And I would like for those human friends to keep giving me cookies.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Poor Horse's Alternative: Dust Baths

Sometimes horses don't have owners to slather and spray them with pesticides. I, in fact, lived like that for many years. The solution?


I am fortunate that we have many dusts baths available here at Marilyn's Mountain Hideaway. There is a clay-ey dirt dust bath, 

several fine degraded crush-and-run type dust holes,

 a grittier one, not yet perfected like the other gray dust baths, 

 and of course the fine black dirt 

that Mother says was once compost many years ago. And, of course, one can roll in the shavings or on the weedy/grassy ground. One could roll on the crush and run itself, if they had an itch, I suppose.

I personally find the fine black soil dust to be the best. It's nice to flop down in to, it coats in nicely, and it really works it's way down to the skin layer. Unfortunately, there isn't one of these in the Small, so I have to make do with one of the gray dust baths when the gate to the back pasture is closed.

Ahh, dust bathing perfection!!

What do you mean, they all look the same to you?!?

The donkeys tend to prefer the gray dust baths, but find the clay-dirt dust bath nice as well. The little boogers actual roll many times a day. Mother has even mentioned the idea of having some sand dumped in for a roll spot, too.

It's not worth all THAT work. I'm just doing touch-ups between fly spray applications, and to satisfy the occasional itch. I can't really explain the donkeys soaking in the dust baths at all hours.

Little weirdos.

Sunday, July 8, 2012


Mother pointed out to me that while it is in fact hot here, and people have been worried about how dry it is ~ especially with the humans setting off the loud glitter fires in the sky at night lately, fools ~ that I really should just count my blessings.

Feral Woman' blog details some of the horror of the wildfires out West, in her instance Montana, that have been ongoing this very dry summer. I've never had to drive through fire before, and hopefully never will.

She did.

I guess I should be happy the only heat I have to walk through is through the sunshine to the cool water in my water trough.

Swelter, Swelter, Swelter

There are not really words for what has been happening here. I have sort of adapted, but... yuck.

Mother hoses me off... sometimes, it's cooling effects lasts until the sun goes down, and Mother is pleased that I have only cool, dry fur in the evening. Sometimes, I am sweating like mad even overnight, as it is just so HOT.

Belle and I stand in the run in, which is hotter than outside, but it is shady and there sometimes is a breeze, but most importantly there are no insects due to the shade cloth and darkness.

This summer has been miserable, and it really has only begun.  Just a few summers ago, Mother was lamenting that it wouldn't get warm enough so she could teach me about baths.

Well, trust me, I've since learned. And come to appreciate.

Sort of...

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Black Pudding

Auntie Erin and Mother gave me a thorough bath on Saturday. Mother even shampooed and conditioned my mane, which she only does maybe once a year because it takes so long to rinse all the suds out. With the temperatures over a hundred these last few days, I was happy for the long, cool water activity.

When Mother came up to see me this afternoon, she was saying things like ick, eeewwhh, and what the hell, Boyfriend? What? Just because I've already rolled today in some fine, fine black dirt?

And sweated. A LOT.

And appear, according to Mother, to have had a fine layer of some sort of bizarre, gritty, horrific black pudding smeared all over my body, up on my head... really, just everywhere.

Mother put a halter on me, grimacing and shying away when I touched her, and led me to the barn porch where I got a good, loooong hosing off. She got all the mystery treacle off my head and body, careful to try to keep my mane dry, as when it is wet it holds in the heat as well as being heavy.

She re-fly-sprayed me and let me out into the Small, where I proceeded to wander out to the back pasture to eat grass. All the other horses stayed inside, but I thought the warm air felt good against my cool hide.

Mother just stopped in to see me a few minutes ago, petting me under the hazy full moon. My coat felt cool and dry, with nary a crunchy, salt crusted, dried sweat hair upon me.

What a pleasant evening.
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