Woof Whinny Whisper

Where, Oh Where Has The Whisperess Been?

Where, oh where has she been?

First there were the Mustangs

 

Then an Arab needed her too,

 

1994 Arab mare, have her pedigree.  Sweet, sweet girl! Do her back feet look positioned weird?  Here are her feet:

 

 

 

a week after we got her she had a severe colic.  We thought we might lose her.  What an awful 24 hours!

and there were others to place,

(This Anglo-Arab has a new home!)

(This horse is still available!) 

So she's been busy and tired and that's where that she's been.

I promise to update and post more very soon!  I would like to post before and after photos of the Mustangs and our new Wildflower =)  Please take a look at the video of the gray Arabian. This boy is a very well bred horse that simply got 'lost' in a mountain of human neglect.  How a horse of THIS caliber wound up like this totally shocks me.  Let's all pass it around until we find him the right forever home.  He is NOT owned by The Huppie Syndicate.  We are simply spreading the word about him.

Monday Morning Mustangs

On Monday morning I joined Kerry and her husband for a trip up the mountain to see the Mustangs.  Kerry has been a great supporter of these boys and has been involved with them right from the beginning.  It is wonderful beyond belief to see such compassion for these horses.  The boys seemed to perk up when we arrived, anxious for food no doubt and by now the Bright Bay has realized that our appearance means food, attention and the ability to cavort in the turn out.

The Sorrel still seems, well, resigned.  How sad.  I'm hoping to have a better history on the boys shortly through the BLM.  What I do know is that the Sorrel is 7 years old and the Bright is 5 years old.  Today it didn't seem to bother them as much when I pulled on the velcro tabs of their fly masks and they both came out of their stalls straight away when we opened them.  The Bright Bay cracks me up and scares the bejebbers out of me as he runs through the turn out.  He runs as a Mustang runs and I have to trust that he retains the good sense he was given from his ancestors.  What tugged at my heart was the way Kerry sat perched on the top rail of the corral with her camera in her hand, totally lost in the rhythm of the Bright as he ran. The thought occurred to me that people think they capture Mustangs when quite often it is the Mustangs that capture us.  It is that wild spirit in them that makes our heart skip with a spark it might have had before we became fettered with this thing called civilization.  My heart smiles to think of it and my heart smiles at Kerry perched on that rail with both her camera and her heart focused on that Mustang. 
I had intended to get a photo of Kerry on the fence but alas... I was caught in the moment of watching someone reach out with their heart to a horse and knowing exactly how that feels.  I think The Bright feels the connection to Kerry as well.

We brought the boys out and inspected their feet.  As I suspected from prior attempts, the Sorrel was less resistant to foot handling.  It didn't take long with me working the legs and Kerry working the treats to convince this older boy that foot handling was a pretty good deal.  We got all four feet up and cleaned.  The feet on both boys are horrid and suffer the effects of long neglect.  Our farrier will take care of it all and because they are Mustangs I am hopeful that we will have their naturally good feet back in shape in short order.

The Bright Bay... well now... he wasn't quite sure that he wanted to give me his fronts and he did protest a bit.  As I say... I always give them a way out and I always let them know what I am going to do before I do it.  Hence I began a series of quiet clucks.  One, two, three... and I applied pressure to his chestnut.  He lifted his foot.  I rubbed him and he got a treat.  We repeated this until The Bright understood that after the third cluck came the squeeze and soon I had his foot in my hand.  As soon as he relaxed his foot, I placed it back on the ground and Kerry gave him a treat.  We tried the hinds but met with more resistance.  Small steps are better I think so we decided to end on a good note and work on the hinds after I have recovered a bit from the angiogram.

Overall I am quite pleased with how they are doing and know that they will take some continuous and consistent handling but that these boys are willing to try.  If they are willing to work with us, well then... I'm willing to support their efforts.  I am thinking of looking for sponsors for them for the NWHA show....  we'll see how they do in the next two weeks. 

They are looking better!

Oh... and that silly angiogram?  It's fine.  They didn't find anything after all.  Perhaps my Navajo friend is right: Hearts that reach out in kindness need room to grow.  Maybe I've just been having growing pains.

Saturday Mustangs

Yesterday I ventured over to clean and see The Mustangs.  Although I truly wish I could have them at the Rolling I, the sad truth is that I have no way to keep them here.  Fortunately a wonderful horsewoman, business owner and all around cowgirl stepped up and volunteered two stalls for them for the next two weeks.  Of course, we are paying for feed and will go to care for and clean them but having two stalls at no charge is huge.  The graciousness of true horse people is amazing.  In any case... The Mustangs are only 15 minutes from my house if I don't stop for a sugar-free pomegranate-berry Slurpee at the 7-11.

The boys are more interested in food than anything else which is perfectly understandable.  I hauled my cleaning gear up the hill and began mucking stalls.  It seems to me a bit unfair to only clean their stalls every couple of days when I clean my own stalls twice a day but I have to remind myself that the important thing here is that these boys are getting fed every day twice a day and that is far more than they have gotten before.  Deep breath.  Mucking stalls proved to be more of a physical challenge than I had anticipated but true to form I couldn't simply leave it at 'good enough'. Before I set about the task I stalled Gail's mare that always has free access to the turn out and opened the gates on the boy's stalls.  They seemed reluctant to venture out...
Curiosity eventually got the best of the Bright Bay...

and soon enough he was off exploring.

I keep calling him the Bright Bay (for now,) because his personality is bright and strong and adventurous.  This one has a very strong spirit and seems always to be looking towards the horizon.  The fly masks that I brought into the stalls were quickly met with loud snorts and the dust of heels as they spun to avoid these strange bits of fabric.  They were terrified of them.  I hang the masks on the stall rails with the knowledge that the first order of business is to give the boys some freedom, some exercise if they will have it, to clean the stalls and observe who they are.  The fly masks were fastened to the stall rails so they could be safely investigated without the pressure of human hands.

The Bright is a very pretty boy with all of that chrome and that beautiful, thick, flowing mop of a mane.  Soon enough, he was tearing up the turn-out while stretching those long legs and giving it all he had.  I watched his grace and beauty as he moved.  What a lovely canter!  This particular turn-out is rather bowl-shaped and he ran as sure footed as only a Mustang can at sometimes heart-stopping speeds.  He is beautiful and my heart wells with emotion as I watch him.  There is something so magical about a Mustang.  Riders passing on the ridge above stop to observe him for a long while.  The Bright has an under-bite and I worry how that will affect his training and adoption.

The Sorrel hung back with me.  He sniffed and investigated in a quiet unobtrusive way, not wanting to push too far but quietly curious.  He has a solemn quality about him that is very touching.  If you put these two boys next to each other and I picked on looks, it would be the Bright Bay that would catch my eye.  But this Sorrel, this plain red horse touches a part of me that runs very deep.  his mane is frazzled and worn out from reaching to find any speck of food.  When he does finally venture of of his stall it is not to go romp wildly with The Bright but to wander in his brother's stalll and look for scraps of hay.  My mouth pinches downward in sadness and I am touched by the pain he has suffered at the hands of others.   He returns to me again.  Is he being friendly or simply waiting for some tidbit?

There is something about him.

Is there the same reflection of sorrow in his eyes that I see in Cayenne's?  He is far quieter in his head then she...  no... there is something else about him...  He stays near to me most of the time I am working on the stalls.  I muck and then I get my landscape rake and move dirt around, raking, raking and raking to make a nice smooth stall.  I know this is a temporary place but I will make it as nice as I can for them while they are here.  Soulful eyes watch my every move.

Eventually, The Sorrel wanders out to investigate the turn-out.  The Bright tries to encourage him to play.  He spins and broncs and bites him on the neck.  The bright exhibits beautiful behaviors seen in wild bachelor bands.  I smile at The Bright as he rears on his hind legs and bites the Sorrel on the top of his neck.  The Sorrel turns away.  It is only when The Bright runs off that The Sorrel obliges him in an game of chase for a little while.  It is not long, however, before The Sorrel is behind me once again.

What is it about this boy?  After I finish cleaning I halter the boys.  I do not try to catch the Mustangs because I know it is better to let the Mustangs catch me.  They do not shy away from the halter and stand quietly while I slide the lead rope around their necks and glide the rope halter over their noses.  They hold their heads high as I halter them but we will work on that.  After they are haltered I take the fly masks from the rail and play with the velcro.  They jump about at the end of the lead and I let them move their feet.  There is always a way out.  It is by giving them that open door that I will gain their trust.  Soon enough they settle down and I am able to rub the fly masks on them and very soon they are wearing them.

Their feet show signs of long neglect and I suspect that the Sorrel is in pain.  I imagine he feels like Princess Buttercup did when she was first liberated even though his feet do not look as misshapen as hers did on her arrival.  The Sorrel allows me to pick his fronts up though he tries to paw the air.  When he is quiet I put his foot down and give him a peppermint.  I play this game with him with first one front foot and then the other until my peppermint pocket is empty.  He seems sad when I close the stall door behind me and observes me intently as I go to The Bright.  The Bright was having none of this foot handling nonsense.  I am tired and have not been well so I leave this battle on a good note and a peppermint and know that I will return later with a tie blocker and an assistant and I will work with him again.  The Bright is as I suspected, a total punk-muffin but I love that spirit about him.  We will simply have to channel it!  I suspect that if he ever met Smrp's little Snapdragon that they would be fast friends =)

Before I leave I feed them carrots and give them a flake of hay.  If only I could have them at my place to watch over and protect them...  I know they are in good hands and soon they will be with Shana to start training.  I have special plans for these two that involves the National Wild Horse and Burro Exposition and Show at the end of October.  I am daring to dream big...

Well, I do have a good excuse...

For being gone for a few days... okay, perhaps it has been longer.  It seems I've a little heart issue that needs clearing up.  Tuesday I will go in for an angiogram and see just what is going on in there.  Nothing to worry about.  My Navajo friend tells me that my heart is so big that I probably need some extra circulation.  I love him.

The Mustangs that we helped rescue are now officially the property of The Huppie Syndicate!  Friends have stepped up to help with temporary housing and hay costs.  That in itself is a huge blessing.  I cannot tell you how deeply touched I am by every single gift to these wonderful horses.  The third Mustang gelding we thought we would wind up with was adopted by a wonderful lady that has previously competed in the Mustang challenge.  Eleven year old Pete is in good hands. 

Currently our two horses have temporary lodging with a long time horsewoman and business owner.  In a few more days I will once again move the Mustangs to the care and training of a wonderful cowgirl and long-time Mustang lover.  This lady knows and appreciates these wonderful horses for their intelligence and versatility.  She knows first-hand what these horses can do and she has done it with them.  Her little Mustang mare shone well above some pretty high-dollar horses in her day. 

And so I am dreaming big for these boys.  Dream with me.

Sweet Freedom

It was Sharon at the feed store that asked me to check on the situation.  Could I help? After meeting them I knew something must be done. Ten year old Riley was with me and I felt bad when she said, "Why would someone do this?" as her emotions spilled onto her cheeks.  We spent the entire afternoon on the phone calling BLM, calling Animal Control, calling the Wild Horse Association.  Today we moved them to safe harbor but it is only temporary.  They will need more.  They will need foster homes, training and eventually placement. 

Mustangs.  America's horse deserves far better than these two have received.










This last photo really gets me because this gelding looks so worried.  The look on his face made me wonder if he worried that where he was being taken to next was worse than where already was.  And though I have been fine all day long this photo, posting it just now... it really gets to me.

Perhaps this blog isn't the best place to post such solemn things but if this blog is about me, about my life and the animals that surround it then how can I not tell you about these geldings?  This is who I am and the person I strive to be... A person that will stumble out of bed early and brave the wind and the rain and the craziness so two starving horses can find their way to safety and hopefully a brighter future.

I will be keeping tabs on them.  And tonight above all else I will strain to hear the soft sounds of them munching quietly away.

Cowgirls Up! and down.

Saturday night a bunch of CowGirlfriends got together at Boulder City Horseman's Association for a night of good company, the biggest and best burgers EVER that four dollars can buy and a night of testing pony and Cowgirl skills in penning cattle.  Tonight was my date with my hubby for burgers and company so I left my ponies at home.  Lindy and Felicia trailered up to see if Cash would take to cows.  Stephanie, Candi and Tonya trailered quite a ways to be here tonight while the husbands were off fishing for the weekend.  Marilyn even stopped in and I was real glad to see Franco's silhouette under the concession canopy.  Since we've moved over to the ranch I don't see him as much as I used to and I sure miss his company and conversation on the trails.  The simple pleasures of good food, good friends and good fun made this evening under the starry southwest sky the best place in the world to be. Some moments in time are like gifts that can be unwrapped again and again.

We watched Felica try her hand and her pony on the cows.  I almost said 'Little' Felicia but she'd give me that look that only a perturbed teen can give an adult old person.  Felica is very nearly a grown woman in her own right no matter how much we'd like to keep her our little darling.  Time marches right on.

I got some pretty good video and took some stills from the action.

This Cowgirl looks like she was born in the saddle and seems to be taking to cows pretty well.

Little Erica seemed to be getting the hang of things too.


Stephanie, Tonya and Candi made a pretty formidable team.  Although I only took this still from the video so far, I will post a few more a bit later.  I've got to see if I can post Steph on her Appaloosa.  Candi is getting it in this photo and I must say, has a very good 'Move it cow!' noise.  Even I moved a step back from the rail...

I had two cameras going tonight.  Tonya joked with me on Friday night when we met at Marilyn's house that I always had a camera in my pocket.  Tonight I packed two and intended to tease her about it.  Before all that could happen though, the night sped on and Tonya joined up with Felicia and Erica to help them hone their penning skills.  Although I was positioned at the far end of the arena, I could hear Steph yell for Tonya to turn back for the cow.  I pointed my camera in Tonya's direction and just seconds later Tonya lay motionless on the ground as her horse, Hedge, stood over her.  I dropped the camera and started moving in her direction.  'Stay down Tonya!' Stephanie shouted from her position atop her horse at the gate.  A few heart numbing,  frightening moments later, one tough Cowgirl was on her feet and being helped from the arena.

Now here is the thing about Cowgirls...  Tonya put on her bravest face as she was helped out of the arena and into a chair in the grass.  She was most concerned about her son.  Did he see her fall? No.  He's down in the dirt throwing rocks and happy as an Iguana in a sagebrush.  Tonya relaxed.  Her boot was pulled off and her rapidly swelling ankle examined.  She was stoic.  But if you got a bit closer you could see the sweat of pain rising on her forehead and a pinch in the corner of her eyes in spite of her protests. Before long, Tonya was mini-vanned to the ER to get a good going over but not before she made sure that her son had what he needed and that her CowGirlFriends knew what they needed to know to care for Hedge. 

Did I get video? Well, yes and no.  When Steph hollered I pointed the camera in Tonya's direction but before I could focus Tonya and Hedge had already run into trouble.  There are just a few blurry moments.  Those belong to Tonya and she can do with them what she will.  Thankfully she is going to be just fine as soon as she gets over that badly sprained ankle.

My hat is off to you Cowgirl. Hope you're back on both feet again real soon.

Shocking News

Okay, maybe not.  I've been absent but I really do have an excuse.  I've had to have something called a 'sleep study' done.  This is my second sleep study and this one was more detailed.  It all amounts to strangers hooking you up to gobs of electrical thingys which are applied with horrid, sticky glue.  After you have been so tortured by the application of these devices you are then requested to sleep in a strange bed in a strange (and not very inviting,) place without nearly enough pillows.  This time I had to stay for the day as well and was asked to take naps during the day.

I can nap.

That is at least what I thought.  Every two hours I was asked to nap for 15 minutes.  Now, in my opinion, that is simply not a nap, that is nodding off during a commercial, or sitting out in the barn on the bench.  Gosh, a nap is a long, leisurely affair.  Clearly these guys have no clue.  In any case, I pretty much dozed on command with no problem.  The problem was the two hours between.  I brought my sketch pad with the thought in mind that I would work on my 'Tooned In' idea.  Unfortunately, the device I was strapped with was cumbersome at seven pounds and continually got in my way.  There was no comfortable place to sketch.  Trying to move the device to an area that would free me to sketch pulled on the wires in my head.  Trapped like a lab rat!
Quite the device, eh?  What, you wanna see me hooked up to electrodes?  Um... no.  But thanks for thinking of me.  You know.... if they knew my history with water and electronic devices they would never have let me in the bathroom with that expensive thingy....

In any case my physical predicament relegated me to playing games on my cell phone, reading magazines so old that Wynonna Judd was still married and waiting for it to all be over so I could get back on my hill and stay there.  Well, at least until tonight when I go to watch Team Penning.

Shining Star

She is five months old and is coming this morning for her second obedience lesson with her Momma.  Star is being clicker trained and doing exceptionally well.  This is one very bright Star!

Monday Morning Trails (or Pony Girls Ride Again)

Yesterday I got a very special treat.  Two of my Pony Girlfriends came to my house to play ride.  We have all ridden together before and we always have a wonderful time.  Since my beloved Sunny's best friend Amigo was coming with his Mom, I knew that Sun would have to be my mount for this ride.  Sunny and Amigo were happy to see each other.

After Lindy and Ellen arrived we set about the business of getting ready to trail ride.  Showing off the barn and house could wait till after we rode.  Heck, by that time shade and air conditioning would be number one on our list.  With temps projected to be 104 today, best to get out and get our ride out of the way.  We rode the loop trail at the foothills.  Our goal was to stay along the foothills until we crossed under the highway through an access tunnel that would lead us to the wetland trails.  Would the tunnel be there?  It was clearly marked on the map.  Of course, when I rode out on Sunday, an equestrian center was clearly marked on the map.  The equestrian center was just a parking lot.  Would the tunnel simply be a pile of rocks and an abandoned piece of heavy equipment at a dead end trail?  We would see.

There is something so great about riding with long-time friends.  We know each other, we know husbands, children, interests... we have histories together.  It is comfortable and welcoming as a favorite quilt in winter.   We were warm along the trail, we drank lots of water and lo and behold... a tunnel!

This tunnel runs under a four-lane highway that is a main thoroughfare to the lake and recreation area.  Would we ride through the tunnel?  Um... maybe not.  My thought was that we would lead the horses through the first time and then if any brave soul wished to ride through on our return that would be great.  In all honesty, I expected the horses to be more concerned than they were.

The biggest problem we seemed to have was that the shod horses slipped a bit on the downhill slope to access the tunnel.  It was not a big slope but not a shoe-friendly one.  The slipping made Sun a bit nervous, which of course alerted Amigo. Brisco, our only barefoot horse on this ride didn't seem to mind the tunnel at all though he walked faster toward the exit than Lindy would have liked.  Still, the horses did great!

Where you expecting some shameless tunnel shots?  If you weren't you should have been.

You like the skylight in the middle of the tunnel? We did.

A truck was behind us waiting to enter the tunnel.  I have to say that I was impressed by the way they the driver waited at the tunnel entrance until we were clear before he started into the tunnel.  Only authorized vehicles are allowed on these trails and it was nice to know that they had horse sense.

After we got through the tunnel we stood about for a bit.  Ride on or turn back? We began to discuss it and my thought was that no matter what we decided, that we should stand in the shade of the tunnel while we discussed it.  The temps were climbing and there are no trees out here.   In the end we decided that we had been out for awhile and that we should ride back. 

Once back at my place we cooled off the horses then headed inside to cool off ourselves and to have a nice girlfriend lunch.  We had a salad of shredded lettuce, chicken, black beans, corn, cilantro, cheese, avocado and tomato with chipotle lime ranch.  We also had popsicles and lots of pink lemonade.

It was amazing to me that in no time at all the day had gone by.  All too soon it was time to load the horses in the trailer.  We had the customary difficulties convincing Brisco that the trailer would not eat him while we listened to Sunny and Amigo scream farewells from the front of the property to the back.  It was a wonderful, exhausting and perfect day with my friends and the horses they love.

And if I'd had any energy left I would have told you all about it yesterday.  What could be any better?

Sunday Morning Trails

This morning, Mae and I took to the trails.  Evidently  I was far more excited by this prospect than Mae.  Because so much of my time has been spent on the transition to the ranch Mae and I have not spent much time riding.  She was obviously happier with this arrangement than I.  The last time we rode out she was very good although we did have some problems with cue confusion.  This time however, we were riding out alone.  Mae did not think much of that idea at all. 

She cried out as we left the property.  As we got to the corner, she cried and whirled and side passed and basically said 'No! No! Don't make me go by myself! No! No!'  I was offended of course because she wasn't by herself.  She fussed all the way to the trail.  In all the years I've known this little mare I don't think I have ever heard her whinny so.  Eventually we made it to the trail and as her footfalls clicked away the distance Mae fell into her familiar and confident rhythm and instead of looking back, she began to look towards the horizon.

The trail we rode was at the foothills of the mountain.  It is a multi-use trail as you can see from the photo.  Mae is an exceptional trail horse but even exceptional trail horses are not accustomed to seeing humans whizzing by on wheels.  The cyclists did not seem to phase her in the least.  There was one moment though that I was startled.  A cyclist came up from behind us.  Mae heard it before I did.  She simply turned her head and watched the girl ride past.  I reached down and patted the neck of this fine little mare.  What a good girl!

Finally we came upon a bridge.  It has been a very long time since we have crossed a bridge and I wondered how Mae would do.  I scanned the area for cyclists and pedestrians because if I ran into trouble on the bridge I certainly did not want to endanger anyone else and I wanted my full attention on my horse and this crossing.  Mae began to snort as we approached.  The large yellow barriers gave her pause and she gave them her best stink-eye and was a bit tense as we passed them.  Here we are at the edge of the bridge.  I am prepared for a quick dismount if needed.  What will Mae do?
She dropped her head, sniffed and simply walked out.  The hollow sound of her hooves upon the wood echoed with the rhythm of a seasoned trail horse.  The photo above was actually taken while re-crossing the bridge on the way home.  During our first crossing my attention was completely directed towards the task at hand. 

Our ride home was relaxed and easy and I allowed Mae to set the pace.  I thought I would be lonely riding out by myself.  I wonder if Mae would have been offended by that.