At Home with Horses

Riding Solo

2013-05-20T14:03:00Z

I’m about to admit something I’m pretty sure will make all you moms out there cringe (including my own). I ride my horse. In the desert. Alone.

I know, I know. “Do not trail ride alone” is one of the cardinal rules of horses. However, when you have horses at home, it’s not always easy to schedule a ride with other people.

Fortunately, I have a great group of horsey friends I enjoy riding with, and we get out quite a bit during the spring and summer months. We hit the trails and solve the world’s political problems with long philosophical talks on horseback. We also discuss our marriages, jobs, homes, finances, and for a few, kids. But, that also means we have marriages, jobs, homes, finances, and kids, and those responsibilities often take precedence over riding, which can make group scheduling pretty tough.

My desert view from Jack's back on a solo afternoon ride.

Photo: Michelle N. Anderson

As one solution, I convinced a friend to board her mare at my house to create a built-in riding partner. That helped, but again those grownup responsibilities, as well as the unpredictable central Oregon weather, often get in the way of our plans. On a lonely, sun-filled afternoon after I’ve shut down my computer, the 40,000 acres of public lands behind my neighborhood are just too tempting. So I ride by myself. I’m guessing I’m not the only at-home horse keeper who rides solo.

I’m pretty risk adverse, so when I do ride by myself, I take the following precautions to keep myself safe:

I ride the better of my “alone time” horses, Jack (who actually does better by himself than in a group).
I text my husband and tell him what time I’m leaving, where I’m going, and what time I’ll get home. When I return, I text him again. He knows if I call between those times he needs to pick up. If he doesn’t hear from me it’s search party time.
I keep my cell phone unlocked and on my persons, not on my horse. That way, if Jack ever leaves me behind, he won’t take my cell phone with him.
I stick to familiar nonmotorized Forest Service roads that are mostly in the sightline of our subdivision. (We have a helicopter pilot training school that follows these roads, and I joke that one of the students would get a great training mission if they found me hurt and horseless in the desert.)
I never deviate from my planned and reported path. That means, no matter how fun a deer track might seem, I stick to the main trails.
I always wear a helmet, no exceptions.

It’s not the perfect solution, and I’d honestly rather ride in a group. However, I kind of like my quiet time with Jack in the desert. He’s on his best behavior when no other horses are around, and his smooth long trot and steady breath loping down the trail remind of how much I like the horse. The quiet also lets me clear my head and, at this time of year, notice the blooming desert flowers and busy raptors, rodents, and birds.

Would you ride alone, and if not who do you ride with? And, for those who willingly ride alone, how do you keep yourself safe?

Of Dogs and Horses

2013-05-07T13:37:00Z

On a recent trail ride two unleashed Australian shepherds came rushing toward our horses barking and growling, one dog obviously younger and a bit bolder than the other.

My friend’s mare spooked and spun to face the oncoming dogs. My Quarter Horse, Jack, also spooked at the onslaught but simultaneously evaluated the attackers and targeted his radar onto the braver of the two dogs. He cocked his ear and lifted one hind leg into the locked-and-loaded position, the dog’s body clearly his target. The dog dove in, nipped at Jack’s heels, and retreated.

“Don’t worry, he won’t bite your horse—he’s friendly—he just needs to learn how to behave around horses!” the breathless dog owner called from her mountain bike.

Lady, I thought, I’m not sure what lesson you want your dog to learn, but I’m not really worried about my horse.

You see, Jack isn’t really fond of dogs.

Brewer stays clear of Marathon after his first interaction with the horse.

Photo: Michelle N. Anderson

His attitude toward dogs worked well for horse breaking our Corgis when we moved from a subdivision to our small horse property. Our Corgis were bold but aloof little dogs that didn’t really understand subtleties, so Jack made it clear from Day 1 that his paddock was verboten territory. While they’d circle like sharks under our other horse’s buckets at feeding time, the Corgis stayed out of Jack’s way, letting him finish his dinner without their help.

Due to his tendency of treating dogs as horsey soccer balls, Jack isn’t helping horse train my new puppy, Brewer, a 7-month-old Australian Cattle Dog rescue with fear issues. Instead I’ve enlisted Marathon to help Brewer learn how to behave around horses.

Marathon isn’t the horse you’d instinctively think of as a dog trainer. For the most part he’s what I call a Hanoverian-chicken cross. He spooks at rabbits running through his paddock, but for some reason he can meet feral dogs on the trail with little more than a twitch of his ear. Dogs just don’t bother the big guy.

I started Brewer’s introduction to my horses by tying him at the hitching rail while I fed. He needed a good 40 feet of distance from the fenceline to feel safe and, honestly, I don’t mind having a heeler that would rather stay out of paddocks. However, the reality is that he needs to learn how to stay safe and behave around livestock (aka, my three pleasure ponies, the neighbor’s goats, and the peacock that occasionally roosts in our junipers).

After Brewer got used to watching me feed and pet my horses, the next step was bringing Marathon to the side yard for a hand graze. Although our pup, a winter addition to the family, thinks the yard is his territory, the horses actually spend quite a bit of time grazing there during the spring and summer.

I stood at the end of Marathon’s long cotton lead as Brewer did a look-approach-and-retreat dance that clearly said, “Why is that thing in my yard?”

He inched closer, sniffing the air and predator pointing as he moved toward the gelding. Brewer then raised his hackles and let loose with enough tenacity to turn a bull, snapping at Marathon’s face (without making contact) and emitting a noise I can only equate to mating Tasmanian devils.

Marathon, bless his heart, showed no reaction to the dog. He didn’t lift his head, twitch his ears, or even blink. No striking, spooking, spinning, or kicking. His lack of reaction neutralized my dog, and as quickly as it started, the fruitless attack ended with Brewer walking away to play with his favorite toy.

Moving tough livestock is in my dog’s DNA, a fact he reminds me of it every time we drive past a pasture full of beef cattle. His lack of early socialization makes him anxious and fearful with a tendency to overact when stressed. (Side note: Despite his rescue-related issues, Brewer is an awesome dog, and we’re working hard with a professional trainer to find positive solutions.)

I’m confident that, if I’d introduced Brewer to Jack first instead of Marathon, I would’ve had a wreck on my hands, with a terrified dog turned aggressive by an aggressive horse. Instead, Brewer’s first up-close horse experience helped de-escalate his outburst and taught him that moving the horses is not his job.

This isn’t the end of the horse lesson for Brewer, but it feels like a good beginning.

Have you ever had bad encounters between your dogs and horses? How do you manage your horses around roaming neighborhood dogs or loose dogs on the trail?

Midnight Horse Chores

2013-04-24T13:23:00Z

As I stood shivering in my pajamas in the middle of a Sunday night trying to attach a hose and an icy hydrant by the light of my iPhone, I contemplated the cascade of events that led to this moment.

That previous Friday I caught a startling glimpse of gray roots in the mirror. I called my hairdresser, and she surprisingly had an appointment opening. If I left my desk right at 3 p.m. and gave the horses a quick snack I could make it to the salon.

By 5:30 I had a sassy short haircut with not a gray in sight. Since my hair rarely leaves a ponytail during the work week, I decided this called for an evening in town. I texted my husband and secured a dinner date, and we didn’t get home until after dark.

This trough is half empty and ready for a mid-week dump, scrub, and fill.

Photo: Michelle N. Anderson

Now, earlier that day, our puppy had caught and killed one of our hens (life and death on the ranchette), and our senior Corgi girl, Wynifred, had gutted the poor thing, enjoying the freshest meal of her life. Upon returning from dinner, we found dog vomit in, no joke, every room of the house, along with a dry-heaving, bloated, and lethargic Corgi.

I rushed feeding the horses, distracted by my sick dog and the need to clean the house. I looked for the reflection of starlight in the water troughs, judged them half full, and headed inside. Wynifred got worse as the night progressed, so we headed to the emergency vet for a midnight appointment.

I won’t hold you in suspense—Wyni lived to see another vet bill.

The next morning I awoke exhausted from the late night. I tossed hay to the horses again, and then my husband and I headed into town to spend 12 hours moving his business to a new office. That job included transferring desks, computers, and a full architecture and interior design materials library (think concrete block, tile, roofing, and carpet). Home again, toss horses hay, collapse. Sunday, repeat.

Around midnight I awoke feeling panicked. Yes, I had confirmed the troughs had water in them throughout the weekend, but I hadn’t consciously looked at the water in the daylight or checked its quality.

Marathon constantly dunks his hay as he eats, creating what I call “swamp soup.” He’s also picky and won’t drink if the water is even a little off. With our crazy busy weekend, I hadn’t followed through on my twice-a-week chore of dumping, scrubbing, and filling troughs. That meant my horse was likely dehydrated and not drinking, and I couldn’t sleep.

So if my neighbor had come out with a shotgun at the sound of something rummaging around on this very early morning, he would’ve found me—clad in a night shirt, cowboy boots, and a down jacket—half submerged in a smelly 100-gallon tank as I scrubbed it clean.

Not one of my finer horse care moments.

But I’ve found, when you have horses at home, sometimes life gets in the way of doing the best job possible. Unfortunately, not giving 100% to your horses can have major consequences, such as colic, so I take my missteps seriously and work to remedy them.

How about you: When has life gotten in the way of your horse care at home? And have you ever done horse chores past midnight?

Horsey Conversations

2013-04-03T19:18:00Z

One challenging thing about telecommuting is not getting to take coffee breaks at the company water cooler. For a social creature such as me, sometimes the work-at-home solitude gets a little lonely. So this afternoon, feeling a bit desk bound and antsy after seven hours of working on projects for The Horse, I decided to take 15 minutes on the patio to enjoy some sunshine and reboot my brain.

It didn’t take long for me to close my eyes, feel the warm sun on my face, and listen to the migrating birds flirting and fighting with each other amongst our ancient juniper trees. But, I ended up hearing much more than the birds.

Unique and Marathon listen to hear if the neighborhood horses have anything else to say.

Photo: Michelle Anderson

We live just outside city limits in a neighborhood of 100 or so small properties ranging from 2.25 to 5 acres. Most of the ranchettes house at least a couple equids. With my eyes closed, I could hear the horses and mules as they started talking to each other. It began on one side of our neighborhood--a high pitched whinny in the distance followed by an answer just a little bit closer, and then another even closer. Like a childhood game of grapevine or telephone, the horse calls rolled through my neighborhood from one end to the other.

All three horses on my property responded with loud, breathy neighs. My friend’s pony mare, Unique, added a squeal and loud snort for good measure that sent our small herd running, bucking, and striking at their gates. The conversation continued to our next-door neighbor’s two geldings and then traveled before hitting the edge of our surrounding public lands and bouncing back through the neighborhood.

This wave of whinnies made three passes across the development before losing momentum and finally dying out. It wasn’t quite the human conversation or companionship I was craving today, but it did help me better understand the social nature of both humans and horses, which is an obvious reason our species have been drawn to each other for millennia. I found listening to the greater neighborhood horse “herd” rejuvenating and a wonderful reminder of how fortunate I am to live and work near my horses.

But I can’t help but wonder: What were the horses saying to each other?

Sites for Horsey Singles: Match-Making Equestrian Style

2013-02-14T14:42:00Z

Last weekend one of my favorite National Public Radio shows, "Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me," did a funny bit about a singles’ site for cat lovers called Purrsonals.com. I laughed aloud with program host and humorist Peter Sagal, finding the idea pretty silly. I like my cat and all, but I can’t say I’d choose my own mate based on his affection for kitties.

But then my mind began to wander through all the websites geared toward match-making within the equestrian community.

Now a site for horse lover singles, that makes sense, I thought. Then I stopped and considered it. Maybe a national audience of nonhorsey types would find horse lovers singles sites just as funny as cat-people personals.

Fortunately, it doesn’t matter too much for me personally. My husband and I have been together for nearly 18 years and married close to 12, and he’s fully aware that the horses and I come as a package deal. But, for single horsewomen and -men, a horse site might help save horse-related heartache and hassle by bringing two people with similar equestrian interests together. So, without further ado on this Valentine’s Day, here are the top 10 reasons I believe horse singles classifieds--and setting relationship expectations around horses early--are actually good idea:

Jake and Carol met on an equestrian dating site five years ago. They got married this past summer.

Photo courtesy: Carol Hunt

Horses are a love and a lifestyle. If your dearest has the horse bug you won’t change her or him.
Horse time supersedes golf on any sunny Saturday. Same goes for snow skiing.
No matter what she says, her horse does not cost less than buying her jewelry. The reverse is true as well—his horse will not cost less than fixing up a classic car.
Family vacations, when they happen, are planned and budgeted around horse show schedules, rodeos, or foaling season.
The vacations that do happen will likely involve horses.
Evenings out get cut short because you need to get home in time to “feed the animals.” (Really, who are we kidding? The dogs will wait, but the horses expect dinner on time.)
Horse spouses must know how mend (literal) fences. Willingness to mend horse injuries in absence of spouse is a plus.
“Until death do we part” can equal a lot of horse shows. And unless your significant other is a barrel racer, roper, jumper, or eventer, you might find those horse events less than exciting. Dying of boredom to end your vows is not an option.
Both your wife and her horse will need shoes. Lots of them. Your husband’s horse will also need shoes. Your husband will likely need lots of boots.
My friends Jake and Carol, who found each other five years ago on EquestrianSingles.com. She had two horses, and his barn happened to have two empty stalls. They got married this past summer.

Do you know anyone who’s met their significant other on a dating site for horse singles? If your spouse doesn't ride, how do you balance home and horses?

5 Things About You

2013-01-16T17:05:00Z

One of the best parts of my job is getting to meet and interview the world’s leading horse-health experts. I ask them questions, and then I translate and condense their responses and serve them up to you in on TheHorse.com like carefully chopped and plated crudité.

Honestly, I kind of see my journalism degree a free pass to go where I want and ask whatever questions I want. I tell you I’m great at dinner parties, unless of course you’re the poor introvert I’ve cornered and interrogated next to the hummus platter.

But, I digress.

When I meet with experts and veterinarians, a ton of information transfers. Often, however, I’m left wondering, “What is the most important thing I need to know about this topic?” That question led to our new “5 Things You Need to Know” video series, which launched this week. As the name implies, this monthly series features the five most important things you need to know about a specific horse-related topic straight from the experts.

Our new "5 Things You Need to Know" video series starts with stallion fertility.

We’re kicking off this series with three breeding topics, including stallion fertility, mare fertility, and neonate health in January, February, and March, respectively. (Click to watch "5 Things You Need to Know: Stallion Fertility" with reproduction specialist Ed Squires, PhD, Dipl. ACT.) So, please, check out these videos and look for a new episode each month in 2013. We’ll cover topics including lameness diagnostics, toxicity, dentistry, and more.

In the meantime, I’d like to turn my interviewing skills around on you. What are the five things we at The Horse need to know about you, the horse owner, and the critters you keep? If you have a moment, please leave your responses in the comment area below.

A Winter Home Away from Home

2013-01-07T15:55:00Z

Two weeks ago it got cold here in Bend, Ore., and started snowing. Then the ground froze solid and it snowed some more—a lot more. Winter had made her grand entrance on the high desert, bringing temperatures that dipped close to zero degrees Fahrenheit at night and barely broke freezing during the day.

This is the time of year when I usually give up riding my two horses. Instead, I wrap them up in blankets, feed them mass quantities of hay, and let them know we’ll have fun again in the spring. When the opportunity arises, I do take my barefoot gelding out for a trail ride in the snow or haul my dressage horse, Marathon, to my trainer's arena to stretch his legs. But, for the most part, my geldings spend winter getting wooly and playing pasture ponies until April rolls along.

Honestly, after five years living on my own horse property, I’m tired of the annual routine.

This winter a serious bout of cabin fever had me considering the once unthinkable: Maybe I’d be better off if we sold our small property and moved into town. I could board the boys at a facility with a beautiful indoor arena and (do I wish for too much?) heated grooming area. My husband and I could buy a condo, with no lawn or maintenance, next to one of our city’s beautiful parks along the winding Deschutes River. For breakfast we could amble to a locally owned corner coffee shop for fresh pastries and espressos while some other poor schmuck spent the frigid morning hours breaking ice from troughs and slinging feed to my horses as they beat their hooves against the stall doors.

I got far enough along in this fantasy to pull comps to our property and flag several downtown rental prospects in my Zillow account. My husband eyed me over the kitchen counter, wondering if I was serious. He probably had his own version of this downtown daydream—no garage roof to replace come spring, hay to stack despite his grass allergies, or fences to mend in the middle of windstorms. And, I’m not kidding, people who live in town can walk to the river’s edge and fish just about any time they want. I’m pretty sure that was part of his fantasy as well.

Finally, he asked what I really wanted. After a little bit of soul searching, the answer came relatively easy: I wanted to ride, and the solution that followed seemed equally as simple. There’s a boarding facility about a mile down the road with a small but adequate covered arena. The owner and resident trainer is a nice guy, the horses get good care, and the boarders are low-key and love their animals. And, as my husband pointed out, two or three months of a boarding bill is much less expensive and stressful than uprooting our entire life.

So, I moved Marathon to the boarding facility on the 1st of January to give it a try. It takes me exactly three minutes to get there, so I can easily check him daily, feed his grain, and change his blankets if the weather turns. And, I’ve ridden more in the past week than I did in the previous two months combined. He’s started putting on some condition, and I’m feeling like my happy riding self.

The rest of the fantasy? Well, there’s still no walking to the local coffee shop for breakfast, but I realize I’d rather live 20 minutes from town than 20 minutes from my horses. Plus, I do own a coffeepot.

What about you? Have you ever thought about turning in country life for a boarding stable? If not, how do you make riding work during the winter months?

A Life Filled with Horses

2012-12-21T18:36:00Z

Well, it’s Dec. 21, 2012. The fact that I’m writing this means the world did not come to an end today as some believe the ancient Mayan calendar predicted. And, while I didn’t quite believe the speculation, the possible probable end of our planet did get me thinking.

They say, when faced with death, your life passes before your eyes and in just a second or two the important things come front of mind. I know, for me, that flash would include many horse- and-happiness-filled moments:

At age 3, spotting a saddle leaning against the wall in my grandparents’ hallway. My toddler brain connected that a saddle could only mean one thing—somewhere a pony was waiting for me. The saddle was stitched, the pad royal blue, and the pony’s name Pebbles. My mom offered to help saddle the pony, my dad said he had it under control, and I ended up under the pony clutching the saddle horn.
Riding my second pony for the first, me age 8, with his roached, cream-colored mane stretched out in front of me between two split reins.
Twelve years old, over-matched and under-skilled, trembling in my cowboy boots before mounting my new, red, 16.1-hand, 2-year-old off-the-track Thoroughbred for the first time. Cold horse show mornings at the local saddle club, Dad sneaking me cups of coffee, “Don’t tell mom.” Same red horse and a big purple ribbon at the county fair, with my family cheering on the rail.
First date at age 17 with my now-husband. A suburban boy raised on a cul de sac, his eyes big watching my giant Thoroughbred and very pregnant mare came tearing toward us. He held his ground, and 18 years later he’s still around.
After a college degree, a first job, a first house, and six horseless years, getting the call that my foal, Jack, had made his entrance into life.
Five years teaching therapeutic riding. Life changing.
Rubina, schooled in the Grand Prix dressage movements and somehow magically appearing in my life, stepping off the trailer and saying to me, “Get your big girl breeches on, you’re about to learn how to ride.” Passage? Yes please.
Riding in the wilderness with my friends as we philosophize and solve the world’s problems from horseback. The mountains looming in the west; alpine lakes Caribbean blue.
Sweet Marathon showing up just about the time I was ready to quit my sport and reminding me what I love about dressage.
Sitting at a big dinner full of friends and realizing that horses have introduced me to some of my favorite people on the planet. Because of horses, my life is blessed.

What about you? When you reflect on the past, what horsey moments do you remember most?

Jack Likes His New Toy, and So Do the Dogs

2012-11-27T15:09:00Z

In my last post I solicited ideas from you to replace my horse Jack’s favorite toy, a feed pan that ended up stuck around his leg after too much hard playing. You all offered some great suggestions, including Porta-Feeders (outside my budget, but they look awesome!) to traffic cones to palm fronds (if only I lived in a place with palm fronds instead of snow!). After much thought, I decided to give the giant doggy tug rope a try as suggested by reader Courtney.

The video below shows Jack’s initial introduction to his new rope. He’s was little skeptical ("Is that a snake?!" he seems to ask) at first but quickly figured out how to swing and toss the rope. I have to apologize, though, before you hit play—I had no idea I baby talked to my horses until I caught myself on camera (although, I bet I’m not alone!). Oops, grown up voice from now on!

Jack moved his toy around his paddock for days, leaving it near his loafing shed or water trough or hanging it on the gate, but that too is now over. As of today, Jack’s new toy is missing. Gone, vanished, not to be found. I’ve searched high, low, and between. I’ve looked in hay piles, trees, and my neighbors’ yard, but to no avial. I’m not sure exactly who absconded with the giant, fun, doggy tug rope, but I have my suspicions:

Did Michelle's corgis, Wyatt (left) and Wyni (right), take Jack's new tug rope?
Photo by Michelle Anderson

I’m sure it will turn up somewhere soon, and if not, I have lots more of your horse-toy ideas to try instead. Thank you again for your suggestions!

Horses (and Owners) do the Silliest Things

2012-11-08T17:05:00Z

I have a pretty keen eye when it comes to spotting when something’s wrong with my horses. Some might call me paranoid; I believe it has more to do with over-education from my job with TheHorse.com. So this morning I went on high alert when I saw Jack sulking in his loafing shed at breakfast time. He then starting moving toward the gate and I thought … well, I’m not going to actually type the word I thought as he walked toward me on three legs.

I thought this bad word (OK, maybe I muttered it aloud, but only my dog heard me) and started going through my mental horse-health inventory, scanning for the cause of his obvious discomfort.

Here, I could brag about my skill in identifying the source of lamenesses. I could tell you about all the abscesses and soft tissue injuries I’ve managed and rehabbed, or about the navicular and arthritic horses I’ve kept comfortable and in work. But, I think you’ll agree, identifying the cause of this lameness took no special skill or equestrian experience:

Jack put his foot through his favorite plaything, a small feed pan I gave him as a toy. He sustained no injury but was pretty sad about his situation.
Photo by Michelle Anderson

No, that’s not an impromptu bell boot. It’s Jack's favorite toy in the world wrapped around his pastern.

He is, in every sense of the word, a goofball of a horse who can’t help but mess with anything he can reach with his lips or legs. So, after he tossed his Jolly Ball into oblivion never to return and nearly skewered me with a sharp stick he pulled off a tree, I gave him a soft-rubber feed pan to keep him entertained. I thought there was no way a horse could get in trouble with an 8-inch feed pan as plaything.

And play he did. Jack spent hours tossing his beloved pan in the air, shaking it with all his might, and using it to bait his fence mate into games of chase. He would also spin it in circles on the ground making patterns to rival even the most devout Buddhist Monk’s Zen garden. Jack was so entertaining with his feed pan my neighbors would spend their afternoons watching him play from their living room window.

That’s all over now.

If a horse has pride, Jack’s was hurt by the unfortunate situation of wearing a feed pan like a bracelet, but fortunately he sustained no real injury. I’d given him the feed pan because I thought it was a benign object and an inexpensive form of entertainment. While he didn’t actually get hurt punching his leg through it, in retrospect I’m thinking he could have easily injured his heel or the soft-tissues structures of this lower leg. Knowing my horse, once he got stuck I’m sure he fought the pan as if it were a coyote latched to his leg, and that alone could have caused damage.

Silly horse, and silly owner.

So, today I am thankful to have a healthy horse that’s still in one piece. I’m also on the lookout for a safe, cheap toy to occupy Jack’s time. If you have any ideas for us, I’ll give it a try, see if it meets Jack’s approval, and post a picture. Any suggestions?