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About Exechorseluver

A writer and horse lover (animal lover) at heart. With a few year's exception, I have mostly worked outside the animal field. I am pretty good at what I do. But at the end of day, I want to be with the horses, cuddle with the dogs and sit quietly as the sun goes down with a cat on my lap. Spending time with my family and especially my grandchildren is number one for me. My little farm gives me a perfect life.

Betty

 

I cry easily

riding in the car

on my never ending commute to work

the music brings memories

makes me remember days and people gone by

they still seem so close to me

in the song’s lyrics

in my head of dreams

there is a soft, sensitive side of me

that I hide least I be hurt

today driving in

I missed the old days

I missed my sister

How could you have gone and left me here

to deal with mom all alone?

You were the one that was responsible

You took care of things

But I must say

your dying has made me

a better person

Couldn’t I have just taken

a self-improvement course?

When I’m 65

Some of the pack!

How did I come to own six dogs?  I would never have done that in my right mind-and they are all young except Lula.  These dogs will be with me for ten or more years.  I will be 65 with six dogs.  Crazy.  I don’t know how many cats there are at my house.  I think there are maybe eight that I can touch.  I don’t count them as mine if I cannot touch them.  It seems like reasonable criteria. But with the highway and the natural predators, I suspect, I would only have five or so cats long term. 

What am I saying?  Five or so cats, six dogs, four horses (because I really don’t think Kid will make another ten years) that is still a barn/house full as I enter my golden years.

Although, if I am honest, I did have five dogs in my home in suburban Sugar Land.  I guess the difference was, if we went out-of-town, they could be boarded.  One time we talked the Davangs into taking three of the little ones while the Dobermans went to the kennel.  I don’t think Becky will ever forget it. She had multiple dogs of her own and it was a crazy, mixed up pack for the entire time we were gone.   I can still get her to mimic Ernie’s (a shih tzu) overbite.  Ernie was also deaf and more than a little blind, so he could “feel” the other dogs barking and would join in.

It was also different then because there were no cats or horses at home.  Just the dogs were there to ensure I must be home every morning and night. But one call to the local vet and they could easily be boarded.  We have one friend, Richard, who will adjust what he is doing and babysit the house and the animals.  But he has a fulltime job and taking over the duties at Six Meadow Farm are pretty consuming.

I guess when others make their retirement plans, they think of traveling, relaxing and doing the things they could not do when working.  I am completely clear that I will never be able to afford to retire.  I have had too many starts and stops, injuries and health issues to have built a great retirement plan.  Instead, I will be on my walker, making it across to the barn, falling over running cats at the crack of dawn so I can get off to work somewhere to pay the bills.  Sounds like a compelling reason to up my 401k allotment, say no to more animals and be thriftier.  But somehow, I know I will enter my golden years, surrounded by the love of my animals.  I guess it could be worse.

PuppyGirl is a Soccer Ball for Feather

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.

Riding Shotgun with Leo

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.

Storm Warnings

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.

Worrying

As a parent, a daughter, and as a friend or just as me, I worry.   My biggest worries involve my daughters and my mother-guess that is to be expected. 

Each day I call my mother (I have called her every day on the way home from work for years).  But suddenly, she is never there.  She has moved to a closed unit of an assisted living but disappears all the time. Isn’t that the point of a closed unit?  For those of you who haven’t priced assisted living-it will be a shock.  For the price of care, I would expect the unit to know where my mother is-but they don’t.  I get calls from her caregivers, asking me where she is.  I am in Texas.  They are in Colorado.  How would I know where she is?  Her husband, Jim, was living in an apartment in the “non-assisted” side of the center.  He would come and take her to his up to his room.  They would drink Margaritas (which has been a ritual of his for years) and she would fall asleep in his room.  Seriously?  They are like teenagers with no parents to watch over them.  She is supposed to wear an alert necklace which allows the center to track her but she decided it did not match her outfit and took it off.  When the nursing staff told Jim he could not take her off the unit without telling them, Jim, a doctor, told them he could take care her.  I don’t think the nurses telling the doctor set well with him even at age 95.  He is the doctor and they are the nurses and he will do what he thinks is best. 

My mom got angry when Jim decided to move out of the apartment in her building and into a house with his elderly sister.  I understand why he would want to do that.  It is so much less expensive and his sister enjoys his company.  My mother took it as a personal affront.  She has been angry and confused about his leaving her since her move to her new room in the new unit. 

It is difficult to get her aligned with the program when Jim is constantly taking her somewhere else to do something else.  She is not falling into a routine because there is no routine.  You might remember, even when I went there to visit her, she was not there and didn’t remember I was coming.

She told me excitedly on Friday that she knew I would be so happy because she and Jim were getting back together!!  They have been married 15 years. I didn’t know they were apart.   It was like she was telling me the star of the football team asked her out.  I was happy she was so happy.  But I was confused as well.  It’s like a soap opera keeping up with it all.

Yesterday, when I called-she whispered into the phone that bad things had happened that day and she couldn’t talk about it then.  I immediately thought of death and dying.  I asked if she was alright.  No, she said it was really bad.  She told me to call back after dinner.  I was so worried.

When I called back she was carefree and happy.  She said she thought Jim was cheating on her with another women there at the assisted living place-but thankfully, he wasn’t and she was so happy.  Oh my goodness, this is nuts.  I cannot keep up with daily drama.  I don’t know if she has just entered an alternative universe where they are teenagers in high school or what.

I do have a couple of caregivers that go to her place and I get reality checks from them.  They help me to understand what is really going on.  The other day, I came into the house and there was a phone message from one of them that they couldn’t find my mother.  Apparently, she had been gone a long time.  She showed up shortly thereafter. I don’t know how to manage her disappearances from Houston.

I never know what (or who) I will face when I call my mom each day.  I wish I was closer and I wish this was easier.  I should be consoled that at least she still knows she is talking to me, her daughter.

Every day now, I wonder if she will answer the phone.  If she does, what does she think is going on and what is really happening?  Hopefully, she stays on the unit and doesn’t run off for more margaritas but we sure can’t count on it.

No horses?

Dreaming of the lake.

There are times when all of us as horse owners, parents of kids who ride, or equestrians ourselves, ask, what would we do if we didn’t have this all consuming sport and commitment?

I saw my friend Dee bring it up on Facebook this week-she talked about kitchen make-overs (she is I suspect-a good cook who would love to have a great new kitchen).  But Dee quickly dismissed the idea by saying-wait we have horses; we can’t have a new kitchen.  Lauren and I talked about what the family used to do on Memorial Day weekends before she was born.   I told her we used to go to the lake (in Missouri-it was Smithville Lake or Lake of the Ozarks). We had access to a boat from Dave’s folks and spent many weekends on the water.   A lot of my family had places at the lake in Oklahoma as well.  I remember bright days with my cousins learning to ski at Lake Eufala.  I suspect here inTexas if there were no horses, we might have a place at Somerville or Lake Travis.

It wouldn’t be fancy- but there might be some jet skis or a boat.  There would be great family times, hot, summer days and long summer nights spent with friends.  I remember the days at the lake fondly and wish there was a way to do both.  But there is not, not now.

I think the one regret I have of Six Meadow Farm is that it has gotten to be so much.  Yesterday I enjoyed my solitude but was a little overwhelmed by the end of evening (and a little short with the cats and dogs-yes, I was yelling at them all) because I was hot and tired.  I was yelling at a tiny Yorkshire terrier-really inappropriate.

The horse life that I am living along with so many of my friends is rewarding and demanding.  The show schedules take up most weekends.  When there is a weekend without a show, you need to catch up on barn chores. It is hard to have outside interests.  I am sure my daughters Amber and Ally feel at times they are second to the horses.  The horses demand immediate and intense actions.  I have hung up on my daughters to care for my animals way too many times. 

Those of us with our own places feel it the most.  The majority of us work fulltime outside our lives as barn managers.  We are gone all day.  We work hard at our “regular job”.  We have that competitive spirit and it spills over into all aspects of our lives.  We want to do it all well.

Not as a call to feel sorry for me or what I have chosen to do but as an example, instead of getting up, going to work and coming home, cooking, eating, watching a little tv or doing some computer work, the horse people with outside jobs, must do all those things and care for the animals as well.  Most of us are not content to have just horses, but have scores of cats and dogs as well.  It is a choice.  It is a choice we are lucky to have made.  In the winter it is cold, muddy and darkness falls early.  In the summer, it is hot, miserable and darkness (and the cool it brings) never seems to come. 

I think my friend Gaylyn has had three evenings away from her place in the last two years.  On those three nights she came home but we went over to feed the animals because they would be gone during feeding time.  She has not been on vacation away from home that I am aware since they moved there.  That is nuts.  Lauren and I have not been gone at the same time in the evening or overnight except once-for one evening at a horse show in the last few years.  We did go on a week’s vacation this year but that took military precision planning to accomplish.

So, I guess no lake house is in our future.  We have chosen our lot in life and reap the rewards.  But there are those days when the memory of the still lake water makes you long for days gone by and choices made.

Solitude

photo by Linda Potter-Potter Photography

It is the fourth day of my weekend. Friday I had some blood work done-feeling a little better today.  Lauren is off at a pool party.  I have had a quiet day at home. 

I started with my early feeding, no kittens fell from the sky, everyone was in their usual place.  I did my chores at first light, the temperature at the barn over 90 degrees by 8:00 am.  I moved some sand to fill holes.  I brought Kena out to the barn, more to stop her incessant barking so early in the morning than anything else but really enjoyed having her company and she did very well with the animals.

Later I placed Lula and PuppyGirl in the big water trough and they enjoyed (I think) a swim on a hot day.  I know they enjoyed running and rolling in the grass afterward.

I made a good lunch and read a book.  I have afternoon chores to do when it cools off a little and it is time to get the horses back in.  The phone has not rung once although I did call my mom as I do every day. 

It has been a quiet and peaceful day here.  I have totally enjoyed my solitude.

Kittens Falling from Heaven (or somewhere)

Hissing, baby kitten.

Lauren and I slept in a bit this morning.  It was a holiday Sunday morning; we didn’t get moving to start feeding the animals until after 6:30 am.  Being an hour and a half late, everyone was waiting for us and not in their usual positions when we made it outside.  The dogs were anxious to eat.  The pack of cats had almost given up on us ever emerging from the green box (that’s what they call the house) and were checking out the backyard in search of food.  When we let the dogs out the back of the house- the cats (and baby kittens) went scrambling.  We got the dogs fed.  We headed out to feed the cats and horses.  As Lauren stood with PuppyGirl and I headed around the house, we heard a distinct thunk!

I had no idea what the noise was, but Lauren yelled for me to come back to the driveway.  “Did you see the kitten fall into the bed of the truck?”  No, I had missed that.  Apparently, when the kitten scrambled to get away from the dogs, she headed up the tree.  When she couldn’t hold on any longer-she dropped like a rock into the bed of the truck. The little, tiny, feral kitten was hunched in the corner of the bed of the truck, hissing at us.  We decided it would be best to leave her, so we opened the tail gate and headed back to the house.

As we came around the corner of the porch, another tiny kitten hissed and clawed at us from behind a potted plant.  Behind her was another tiny black kitten that was not quite so angry with us-at least she wasn’t hissing or clawing.

The kittens from the wild moms are getting older and braver.  I will try to catch them and tame them.  In the best of worlds, I will tame them enough to get them spayed or neutered.  These are the first kittens we have actually seen or gotten near this year.  I will probably manage to catch a few of them, get them to the vet, spend some money and they will die on the highway. I have trouble getting motivated to save the kittens when too many times it ends badly.

 

Orange says “Where’s Siobhan?”

Update-Orange Cat is still searching for Siobhan.  He is clearly asking us in this picture where she is.  But he is spending more time with his brother and other friends and seems to be moving on.  Sometimes that is all you can do.

Corn and Dreams or Dreams and Corn

Happy Memorial Day.  I am enjoying some time at home with Ally, Jordyn and friends, who all came down to the farm today.  Lauren has been working hard re-painting jumps.  Scot came to drag the arena yesterday and things are starting to look nice around here.  We got the new jump course set up last night based upon an article in Practical Horseman Magazine. 

Lauren took young, four-year old Feather through the gymnastic course of jumps designed to help the horse understand how to jump and how to maneuver through a course.  It was her first time.  It was my first time to see Feather jump more than one jump in succession.  With horses and jumping, they have to be a good combination of athletic and agile.  They also have to have what is called “scope” to get over the bigger jumps.  Lauren was jumping Feather over the barrel jump which was about 2’6″.  The barrels themselves measure a little over 3’3″.  So when I caught them in this picture, I was more than a little excited.  It appears Feather has “scope” as she is clearly two feet over the barrels.  We could have a winner on our hands!  So, the Feather dream continues.  If she continues to jump this well…it could be the start of something amazing for us.

Dream come true? Feather is flying.

Caroline and Arianna brought their horses down this morning and we enjoyed the clear day and good riding.  Jordyn and Abby saddled up Mr. Kid and Mickey but were quickly bored and off playing in the sand pile.  Ally was kind enough to watch the little ones while the rest of us took a ride out to the corn field.  As we rode down the dirt road between the corn fields, it was like being in canyon of corn.  The horses (and all of us) got quite a work-out as we cantered the long roads of corn.  The corn is so high it literally swallows us all from sight. 

Riding the corn roads.

I am grateful for friends, my family and warm days of summer.  I remember on this Memorial Day weekend those that are riding along with us in heaven.