In which Steele makes a break for it

Today was a long day. I was in the city for meetings. This means that I leave early and get home around supper time. On those days, Ed is good about the horses. I feed before I go and he lets them out and cleans the stall.

Oh and he makes supper too.

Yes, I know how lucky I am. (did I mention that he cleans?) Sorry, I am getting off topic.

Today when I came home Ed said to me "well, I had quite the adventure with the horses today".

I looked at him.

"go and get changed he said and I'll tell you all about it."

I went upstairs wondering what on earth happened. Martin was curled up on the end of my bed. When I came in he opened one eye and looked at me as though to say "you won't believe the shenanigans that went on today!"

I go back downstairs and Ed tells me his story:

Around 4 he started cleaning out the stalls. He had Irish's mostly done when he had to empty the muck cart (we truck our manure down away to the compost pile). Because of the weather and snow/mud we are keeping the cart in the barn. It will go back out once things settle down. To take out the cart Ed has to take out the rope that is across the doors as a line of defence if the horses get loose in the barn. When he came back he left the cart outside to do some sweeping and finish Irish's stall. He said that he had the stall door open and Steele was in his stall eating hay. Ed was cleaning up a corner of the barn when he heard Steele come out of the stall. At first he was not concerned and then he remembered that the rope was down.

It was too late. Steele was out the barn and headed around to the back and up to the riding ring with Ed in hot pursuit. He was smart enough to grab a carrot but it was not working. I can picture it very well: Ed trying to get him to come close, Steele prancing around spouting slogans like 'cry freedom' and 'don't fence me in' and grabbing snatches of grass that were bravely sprouting up through the snow. However, I did not marry a dumb man- he took the carrot over to Irish (who was watching over the fence). In no time at all Steele was over there for his share. Ed opened the gate and Steele went in to the paddock. But Irish came out! Ed sighed and then locked Steele in the paddock. He went back to the barn, grabbed more carrots and Irish's halter. It was not difficult to get him and put him back where he belonged.

This story has taught me 3 things:

1. My horses are well mannered but are not above having fun with their servants.

2. Despite my worries, Ed is quite able to cope with situations, even though he knows very little about horses.

3. I am out of wine.

I was just teasing him- see my halo?

Someone call horse protection- this is not a drill!

Dear Fans
I hate to frighten you but I had to break into the house while the servants are at work to let you know of my dire situation.

(Irish STOP snickering!)

My life up to now has gone pretty well. But last week it was turned around. I was hanging out in my paddock minding my own business when a pick up truck pulled into the yard. A man came out and the male servant (called Ed) came out of the house. I vaguely recognized the man from the spring. He came to do something to Irish' teeth and was very appreciative of my handsomeness. I had no worries when the brought me into the barn and put me on the cross ties. Ed told me that the 'vet wanted to see me'

Ed said that Teresa (my regular caretaker) was on her way home. The vet stood back and looked at me. I waited for the compliments. But did he discuss how well I've grown? How well I take care of my coat by regular applications of mud? no!

 He used the 'f'' word.  Yes, dear readers, he called me fat. I was too shocked to move.

I'm not fat. I'm fluffy.

Just then I heard the sound of tires and the scattering of gravel as a car pulled into the driveway. A few minutes later Mom came in. She took the lead line from Ed and gave me a scratch. I looked at her. My eyes said 'save me' but she didn't seem to understand.

 She asked this so-called-vet "how does he look?"

"he's fat" said the vet.
I waited for her to correct him. I even closed my eyes in anticipation of the blast that this vet was going to get.
"oh" she said. "I was afraid of that"

My world crumbled and I stuck my nose under her arm. There was much discussion of feed and growth and nutrients, but frankly I wasn't listening.

The vet even said that I looked good and was ready to do more grown up activities. It was too little too late. As far as I was concerned this vet was dead to me.

Next it was Irish's turn. I hung out in the stall to hear him called fat. But no! The vet said 'he looks good. Keep feeding him the same'.

What???!

Irish stood there looking all perfect and smug.

That night my starvation began. I am getting only 1/2 of my normal ration. How am I to subsist on that? I ate it in about 5 minutes and the sidled over to Irish's side.
"come on buddy, give me some. I'm dying here"
"sorry junior. You wouldn't want me to violate doctor's orders would you?"

Yes, I am still getting hay but I miss my grain. After a few days of this I decided enough is enough.

I've tried staying in Irish's stall to get his feed. So far this is a failure.
I've tried to snag Irish's feed bin (it hangs over the stall and can be removed). If I'm not getting fed then neither is he! But the humans keep finding it and he's still getting fed.

My last act of desperation is to ask my internet fans for help.
I beg you- send carrots, apples, grain anything. 

Except for peppermints. I hate those.

You can disguise these goodies in hay bundles or saddle pads.

I won't tell. I promise.

Help.

The Perils of an Easy Keeper

Last week my vet came out to do the annual checkup and vaccinations. As per usual, both horses were very cooperative. They also had their teeth done. For those of you without horses, their teeth can develop points with the grinding of hay. The vet (or equine dentist) takes a large implement and files them down. This way they don't cut their cheeks and develop ulcers. Steele was very good about this. He only had a couple points. I did have a giggle when Irish clamped his molars on the file and wouldn't let go. He just stood there looking at both of us with a twinkle in his eye and a 'whatcha gonna do now? huh?'.

Part of the check up is their body condition and weight. Irish is what is known as a 'hard keeper'. This means that he requires a lot of roughage and grain to maintain a decent weight. I was thrilled to hear that his weight is just fine. it's the first time ever at this time of year that the vet doesn't mention that he's thin.

But the bad news is that Steele is overweight. Turns out it's not just his winter coat. He is not fed the same amount as Irish. In fact he gets 1/2 the amount in grain. His growing is slowing down and so he's not using the feed for growth. Well not vertical growth anyway. Turns out that he's an 'easy keeper'. Which means that he can maintain his weight on less feed. Another term in 'air fern' (the idea being that he can live on air). I can relate, as this point in my life, I have become an 'air fern'. I asked the vet to help me with his diet as he still needs to grow. Turns out that our hay is so rich that he didn't need the amount of grain I was giving. And here I was feeling bad as I wasn't giving him near the recommended amount on the package. So now his ration has been halved with a vitamin supplement to ensure he gets the nutrients he needs. I've got my tape ready to monitor his intake.

That night at supper I gave him his new ration. He finished it quickly and then put his head out the stall door
"um mom, I need the reset of my feed"
"sorry Steele that's all you're getting"
"WHAT??? but I'm HUNGRY"
Irish, who has been munching away seems to be munching louder
"hey Irish, buddy, can I have some"
"Sorry Steele old buddy, but I can't. She's watching. But man is tastes sooooo good"
"MOM! it's not fair. Irish is eating I should be eating too"
Irish is slurping his food. I swear. The most delicate eater in the world is sounding like a hog at the trough.

Steele is now looking very sad and thin. Well he's trying to be thin.


With a sniff he consoled himself with his hay. I suspect that he'll end up on no grain. Can you imagine the rebellion when Irish is getting his 2 quarts of feed + beetpulp and Steele is getting a thimbleful of supplements??

I am sorry Rachael and Karen. really. I didn't realize that when you told me that they were easy keepers what that meant! I promise to do better. Don't show up with a trailer or anything to take him back.

On a positive note the vet said that he's developing nicely and gave me the go ahead to carry ahead with my free lunging and light (very light) work on the longe.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Someone gave me this hat a while ago because of  Irish's name. And the fact that he's so very lovable.

1 hat + 1 camera + 1 cooperative animal= photo shoot!

Steele: oh you look so cute. c'mon give me a kiss
Irish: piss off!

My Little Einstein

Every morning the horses are turned out. Unless the weather is horrible. However, they are not always allowed into the bigger paddock if it's too icy or mucky.

On Thursday it was too mucky so I just let them into the small 'sacrifice' area. They are not impressed with this at all. I came home Thursday to find them a mucky mess from rolling in the mud. Even Irish who tends to be more fastidious was one big ball of mud. I noticed that the top gate latch was off and pointed it out to my husband.
'That would be Steele' he said
'no' I said
'yes' He said. 'I've seen him at it.'
'hmmm' I didn't want to say I disagreed but I couldn't see it as it's the tape attached to the handle. I figured he would be getting shocked.

We headed into town to buy seeds and some feed. When we came back there was Steele playing with the handle.
'see!' says Ed.

At the moment Irish came charging up with ears pinned and chased Steele away.
'What was that about?' I asked
Ed said 'I think he was saying "not now you idiot they can see you"

I changed my clothes and headed out to tackle my little pigpens.

I decided to do it outside because of the amount of dust and dirt I was going to get. When they are really muddy I used a shedding blade to scrape the worst of it. I started with Irish. He likes this and will stand still with no halter or tie of any kind. As I'm scraping away I saw Steele amble innocently towards to gate. He did everything but whistle. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he gently nibbled the handle until it fell. He looked at me to see if I saw that. I kept grooming. All that was left was the bottom tape. He grabbed the tape with his mouth and pulled. It feel off. He sniffed it. I stopped with Irish and walked over. We both looked at the tape. I looked at Steele and he looked back at me as though to say
"I have no idea how that got there"

How on earth was he not getting shocked? I have a hefty charger and that was his mouth. I went in and grabbed the fence tester. Steele followed me and watched over my shoulder as I checked. nada. nothing. no charge was coming to the fence. ahhh.

So I finished my chores and went into the house. I told Ed what I found.

"oh good' he said. "I was worried that I would have nothing to do tomorrow'. I recognize sarcasm when I hear it. Well mostly. But you have to love a man who doesn't question that this needs to be fixed, now. When he investigated he found that the tape at the beginning had become frayed and was not getting the charge. It's now fixed.

"good" I said. "that should sort that out"
"hmm" says Ed. "What will you do if he figures out that if he grabs the handle he won't get shocked"
"shut up" I said.
I swear that he snickered.

March Mud Madness

It finally feels like spring. The weather is warmer and the snow is melting. This is very exciting because this means that the training can resume. And that Ed can put in the fencing around the riding ring and for the new paddock.

However, with all the snow we've had the property seems like one big mud pit. I know that it's shortlived but   it is hard to deal with. Yesterday I spent an hour grooming Steele. He looked pretty good. Today I looked at him after he'd been out for a few hours.
oh.   dear.

I brought him out into the cross ties and gave it a good try. But it was wet and sticky and impossible. It's too cold to bathe so I have to wait for it to crust up.

My horse is officially too dirty to clean.

Home Sweet Home

If you've been following my blog you know how long I waited to get my farm and how excited Ed and I were to make this all happen. When we were property shopping we looked at everything that was within spitting distance of our budget (assuming that you can spit really far). I knew the first time I looked at this house that it was 'the one'. It was because of this tree:

She is a huge ancient tree. I know that it makes me sound a bit crazy but over the years I've had many dreams of farms over the years. So when the real estate agent opened the front door and I saw this:

So I knew that this was our house. And of course it all worked out. The purchase, the reno, the barn construction, the moving Irish home and then the purchase of you-know-who. (I sometimes talk to this tree. I am sure she's listening.)

Who? Oh, you mean me. 

Whenever I travel away I am always happy to be home. There is a feeling of contentment that I don't remember ever feeling before.  I don't use the word 'lucky' because that implies a certain randomness and, while I recognize that there is always 'luck' involved, most of it was because we worked really hard towards this. There was planning, saving and quite a bit of scheming on my part. But I know that we are fortunate and I hope that I never come off sounding smug about it.

Home really is sweet.