PuppyGirl, resting after her wild ride.

This is not a good story, but it ends up okay.  Certainly not because of anything I did that was right.

Yesterday was a day for chores.  We had the stall wall rebuilt on Friday.  We were at the horse show Saturday so Sunday we wanted to get Mickey moved to the new stall and Kid to Mickey’s old stall.  First, we had to move several loads of sand to bring the newly re-built stall up to the right height and level.  We got a few hundred pounds of pelleted shavings from Tractor Supply and were working away.

The horses had been out in the far back pasture all day.  I decided to get the three little dogs out for awhile and brought them to the barn.  Lula (the dachshund), Sneaky (the Corgi) and PuppyGirl (aka Gia-the baby Yorkie) were spending some time lounging in the shade, rolling in the sand and just hanging out on the hot, Sunday afternoon.

As PuppyGirl likes to wander off, I had her attached by a leash to the Corgi who was on a separate leash.  Lula hangs around pretty well and she was not tied up.  I had attached the Corgi’s leash to the corner of the tackroom, provided the dogs with a bowl of water and all was going okay.  I do this the same way in the evening when I go out to hay the horses and it works fine.  Except in the evening, all the horses are put away in their stalls. 

It never occurred to me that the horses could come in from the pasture at any time.  They hadn’t moved much all day long.  It was stupid.  I should know by now to think of the worst thing that can happen and plan for that.  All I had to do was shut the gate.  But I didn’t.

Suddenly Feather was in the barn paddock.  She had passed the dogs on the way in without harm but I knew if she was there, the others would not be far behind. 

Next mistake-I yelled at Lauren to shut gate.  I should have directed her to grab the dogs.  But I didn’t. 

Lula turned and ran toward me. Tiny PuppyGirl and Sneaky were stretched on their leashes across the gateway entrance from the pasture.  Feather freaked when she found herself alone in front of the barn and took off at a run to get back to the herd.

There was never time to get the gate shut.  Feather was clothes-lined by the leashes and three pound PuppyGirl was sent airborne, catapulted, over and over, as Feather pulled the line along.  The 1000 pound horse carried the miniature puppy along, moving her like a rolling, bouncing soccer ball until she disengaged her about fifty feet from the gate.

I figured her for dead.  The horses took off again for the back pasture and I watched horrified as PG was on the ground turning in circles.  Lauren ran to her.  I was already thinking about the cost of a Sunday, emergency vet bill and how I would tell Lauren we would have to put the dog down.  Lauren cradled her in her arms.  I got the other dogs and we headed to the house. 

There was no blood but PuppyGirl was shaking although bright eyed.  Lauren tentatively set her down and I was pleased to see her walk bearing weight successfully on all four feet.  She seemed disoriented but okay.  I was amazed.  Lauren speculated that she had probably been turning in circles because she was so dizzy from being rolled over and over.  It was like a child after their first ride at Disney.  PG had just gotten off “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” and she didn’t know quite what to think.

I don’t deserve for this story to have a happy ending but am very grateful that PuppyGirl as a soccer ball didn’t end poorly. Oh, Feather was fine as well. I told you before that the Yorkie’s are a hardy breed but I certainly would never recommend this trauma to find out.

If you riding along with me at Six Meadow Farm leave me a comment now and again.  I appreciate you sharing the ride.

Leo has never been a great trailer rider.  The day we bought him, we had to stop for gas on the way home and he was kicking away as the trailer stood still.  When we were moving he seemed okay.

Since then we learned that Leo preferred company in his trailer riding and if we did not stop for food or gas and kept moving, he did okay.  Never great, but alright.

Once when Lauren was headed to her trainers, a 200 mile round trip, she had both Mickey and Leo.  Houston highways are congested at best.  She hit the tail end of rush hour traffic and was just sitting, moving slowly along.  A huge trash truck came alongside and honked.  Lauren could feel the trailer start to rock as Leo kicked and thrashed.  By the time she got to Dev’s, he had kicked through the rubber matting and had made serious headway to kicking all the way through the aluminum sides of the trailer to the outside shell. 

Since then, we have tried Leo in various different positions (there are three slants {slots} in the trailer) and started giving Leo some medicine to hopefully help him cope.  Leo is an off-the-track thoroughbred so who knows where all he has been hauled and under what conditions.  I would bet now that there was a trailer accident in his past.

So, Lauren took Leo (alone) to the show on Friday.  He appeared (and felt) like he handled it pretty well.  No damage to the trailer was apparent.  He was calm and cool when he arrived. We marked it down as good progress and were encouraged.  At the show, he got through two of his three rounds successfully.  He was jumping and moving much better. He ribboned in one class and was just out of the ribbons in the first class.   It was hot and the classes were big so it had been a long morning.  He should have been tired and ready to go home.

He wasn’t!  While he got right in, before we could even get out of the Eq Center, he was rocking the trailer back and forth.  We couldn’t imagine what he was doing.  We heard banging.  We felt jarring movement like we were running on flat tires.  It was horrible.  At the first opportunity we pulled over and I made the decision to ride in the trailer with Leo.  I grabbed my phone and water bottle.  Wanting to be stopped as little time as possible we ran to back of the trailer, opened the door, and I scrambled up inside.  Lauren locked me in and took off down the highway.

What can I say to convey the first ten minutes of riding with a huge (16.3 hands and 1300 pounds), thrashing, pawing, kicking, crazy beast?  It was terrifying!!  We had left the slants open thinking he would like the extra room.  Immediately, I decided that was a bad idea.  He couldn’t maintain his balance; he was sliding and then bracing himself against the next jarring move of the trailer.  I got the slant closed so he was isolated in slot about seven feet long by three feet wide and seven feet high. I couldn’t get up by his head, the slant blocked it off so I stood at his rear, petting him and alternatingly yelling and soothing him.  Nothing worked. 

His head was shaking vigorously up and down (always just short of hitting the top of the trailer). His front feet were pawing.  His back feet were kicking.  He would work himself up to a point where he would start sliding down the wall of the trailer.  I was terrified he would slip to the ground and we would both die.  Of course, there was moist manure to make it more slippery (and smelly).

I tried singing.  Thought it might soothe him.  I sang “Thank God, I’m a Country Boy (John Denver), the “Star Spangled Banner” and numerous verses of “Row, Row Your Boat”.  He was unimpressed. After awhile, I caught on to move my arm from the bended elbow position I had it in, when he moved suddenly and smashed my arm into the back of the trailer.  Likewise, I moved my legs about a foot away from the slant and leaned in when I realized one of his kicks would shatter my leg to pieces.

I had told Lauren to call every 15 minutes or so, to be sure everything was okay.  Great plan, but hard to execute as the big horse had me fully engaged in trying to keep him calm.  But I had to answer so she would know we were still alive.  She told me later she had a vision of opening the trailer door to find me trapped under Leo’s dead body with just my feet sticking out like the wicked witch of the west.   Thankfully, we missed out on that.  About 20 minutes into the ride, I started looking out for other trailers.  Did other horses stand quietly in the trailer?  The ones I saw did.  It is crazy noisy and rough.  No shock absorbers back there.  Everything was banging and clanging over every line in the highway.  I cannot tell you how it must seem to these animals to have trucks, motorcycles, trains, and all types of motor vehicles whipping by your windows as you stand trapped in a metal box bouncing down the road.

It became apparent that nothing I was going to do made any difference so I settled in for the ride. I leaned up against the slant, sang my songs, kept my hand on his butt and prayed.  It was 50 miles of road ahead and temperatures over 90 degrees.  Funny, I don’t remember the heat at all.  Wow. 

At one point, Lauren moved to the left lane to pass a truck on the right.  The trucker was not going to give way.  Leo freaked the entire time.  It was like the truck was coming in the window to land on him and he was panicked.  It was the worst possible time.  When we got past the truck, I called Lauren and told her under no circumstances could she pass anyone on the left again.  I had to wonder if Leo had been in a serious trailering accident.  I was stunned that he even got in a trailer with how bad he did with the ride.

By the time we got home, I know I was exhausted (my legs hurt from being braced against the wall), my shoulder (three surgeries in the last four years) was aching and emotionally I had it.  I couldn’t imagine how Leo felt.  He was soaked in sweat, breathing hard and wild-eyed. Lauren released me from the locked trailer.  I thought Leo would need electro-lytes (because he had sweat so much), a hose-down to get his body temp down and maybe a tranquilizer gun.  I staggered out of the trailer.  Leo hurriedly backed out.  Leo went to paddock, enjoyed his cool hose down and took off to the pasture like nothing had even happened.

I don’t know if he is this bad all the time (God, I hope not).  I don’t know if I should look for a home for him where he doesn’t have to be trailered or go to shows.  I am not sure what happened or what will happen next time he rides.  But I will never forget riding shotgun with Leo as long as I live.

My view from the rear of the slant as Leo’s is momentarily quiet.

The storm pushed the corn sideways.

There were storm warnings that morning.  But we had been promised rain so many times in the last drought-laden year that we did not take it too seriously.

But first some background to my story.

In the country, you have a water well.  Our well is in the pasture-not the best of planning but the way it is. I had some work done on the house last summer.  While the guys were at my place, I asked them to build a well house.  It would protect the well from the horses bumping up against it and also offer some insulation against the cold (the pump and well will freeze). A great little well house was constructed complete with a shingled roof.   However, when Feather came from Florida, she decided it was fun to eat and pull the shingles off the little well house roof.

So, a couple of months ago, we had hired a father and son (because it is always hard to find someone to do work for you in this town) to complete a couple of what we thought were simple projects.  First project was to build a fence around well house and then to put some concrete around one of the wooden bases to the stall walls that was not standing straight after five years.  We should have checked out their building credentials more thoroughly.  They built a lop-sided fence that didn’t extend all the way around the enclosure.  They assured me that I could tie a rope around the remaining area.  I had the next (the good) fence guy fix that when he came.

On the post project, where I had visualized them digging around the listing post that supported the stall wall and adding some concrete to help secure it, they instead poured six bags of Quikrete into the stall in a mound resembling a sleeping doberman.  It was just lucky that I got there before the concrete set up or we would have never opened the stall gate again.  As it was, I used one of Jordyn’s sand toys to scrape the top off the concrete doberman mound so that the gate would still close across the top of it.  The concrete has pushed against the stall wall and today Lauren went out to find the giant mound of concrete in the middle of Kid’s stall and wall falling down. 

Good times.  Additionally, Feather was tied to front of the tack room where we have successfully tied up horses for five years and she decided to “set-back”.  Set-back is a term used to describe an animal weighing over 1000 pounds suddenly and with great power (think horse-power) pulling back while tied to a fixed object.  In this case, the tackroom door frame.  She completely pulled the door frame five inches out of the existing wall before breaking her leadrope and racing to the pasture.

Did I mention there is a storm coming?  When the barometric pressure starts to fall, horses go a little nuts.  Must be some ancient internal response that saved horses millions of years ago.  Not so helpful to us now.   It usually just means high-strung horses jazzed up as the pressure falls. 

Then Lauren went to ride Feather. A few entries ago, there is a picture of Feather jumping an “X” set up on two barrels.  Today, instead of jumping across the center of the “X” (which is the center of the jump)-Feather decided to just head straight for the jump at a full gallop.  Lauren barely stayed on her.  Feather doesn’t really have a “go” button-you have to urge her forward.  But today she had the accelerator to the floor.  Not satisfied with the speed racer approach to jumping, Lauren took her back over the jump, starting her at a trot.  Just prior to the jump, Feather ramped up, swung out to the side and jumped the barrel instead of the poles.  Good news was, it was further proof this mare really has scope.  Bad news, Lauren was almost sent flying in the dirt. 

Next horse to be worked was Leo, the clouds were darkening and gathering.  Leo while big and strong is usually pretty complacent.  Not today.  Apparently, Leo thought he had just come out of the bucking shute at the Houston Rodeo.  Lauren was in for a rough ride and already tired.

Once she finished the workout with Leo, the rain started.  Gently at first, the rain came, then with 40 mile per hour winds and a horrendous downpour.  The horses took off in that instinctual “fight or flight” response.  They raced through the rain soaked, slick pastures while Lauren stood by helpless to stop them.  Leo was headed to a horse show today so all Lauren could think of was shoes pulled off in the mud, torn ligaments or strained muscles. 

Lauren, now soaked to the skin, under the brutal thunder and lightening, finally managed to get each horse settled into their stall.  Kid’s was missing a wall but she rolled the giant mound of concrete across the muddy paddock to the fence.  It would serve until today when we could get someone out to help rebuild the wall.

By the time I got home, the rainbow was lighting up the sky.  It was cool, calm and the air was soft.   As I looked across the road at the corn, I realized the storm had moved the corn.  Instead of standing straight and tall in late sunlight, it was all on an odd angle, pushed by the wind in the storm.

Lauren had weathered the fallen stall, the mighty mound of concrete, the set-back with the mare, the crazy jumps, the bronco Leo and the herd’s desperate run through the rain.  Lauren had weathered the storm.