Sleep Over

When my friend asked me to house-sit her ranch for the weekend, she invited me to bring Ransom too. It was all the excuse I needed to hook up the trailer that's been sitting dormant since Christmas. Spending the night alone in an unfamiliar barn would be good experience for Ransom, and good preparation for our upcoming overnight trip to the coast.

When I put Ransom in his new stall, he seemed to take it in stride. But when I turned him out in the small field a few hours later, he heard the neighbor's horse whinny and realized the full scope of his solitary status. And for about two minutes, he lost his mind - mouth open and blaring anxious screams to the stranger he couldn't see but thought he desperately needed. However, it didn't take long for him to decide that getting to eat dried grass was worth being alone.

Dinner provided a welcome distraction, but didn't fully alleviate Ransom's anxiety. He walked into the stall to grab a bit of hay, and then back to the paddock to scan the surroundings while he chewed. In and out. In and out. One moment the air was filled with noisy chewing; the next it was silent -- long stems of hay hanging from his mouth as he listened to the distant howls of dogs echoing up the canyon. Because apparently, one cannot chew and listen at the same time.

Chew, chew.
Silence.
Chew, chew, chew.
Silence.

He swung his head around to watch a deer dart up the hillside, the white sclera around his eye giving him a wide-eyed look. And then back into the stall he went for the long night ahead.

Seasons

Ransom is on the mend, and we’re back in the saddle, just in time for summer! Though the last couple months have been slow, the spring wasn’t devoid of stories, because life with this colorful character is more than just riding.

Take for example, the hay net. During Ransom’s lay-up, I started using a net to keep him occupied longer. It didn’t take Ransom long to perfect the technique of extracting dinner.

1.       Use teeth to toss bag into corner feeder.
2.       Shake vigorously.
3.       Push bag back out and eat loose pieces.

And what would spring be without lots of shedding? A lame horse should be the best groomed horse in the barn!

After five long months, my birthday present was a healthy horse (at least getting there). Now, we’re a couple rides in and slowly working back into shape. Interesting thing is – the last five months have been very busy for me at work. There were days where I thought: even if Ransom was sound, I wouldn’t have time for him today. Instead of feeling guilty for not working my horse, I had the time and focus to spend on the work to be done. And in that I can appreciate that this season was what it was supposed to be.

How's Your Horse Doing?

Ransom’s vacation is now three months and counting. A vet visit in early March indicated a soft tissue injury in the right hind pastern. The very next week, Ransom developed an abscess in his left hind hoof. Needless to say, things weren’t looking so good for a while.

We’ve taken to our new routine – short turn outs in the round pen, walks around the ranch, grazing on luscious spring grasses, hanging hay nets to ward off boredom, and extended grooming sessions. Ransom has managed to hold it together most of the time, considering he’s a young, active horse who’s been cooped up in a stall for three months and hasn’t been worked at all. But there are days when the gleam in his eye warns that he’s a mass of muscle about to explode in frustration. And that’s when we compromise with the roundpen – a small area with good footing where he can get his kicks out – because I’m not handwalking that.

People at the barn are always asking how Ransom’s doing. Like everyday. I know they’re being nice, but that’s where I have to stuff down my own frustration. No, there’s been no change since yesterday. Or last week. Why thank you for constantly reminding me that my horse is lame. That I can’t ride him. That his convalescence is taking so long. It’s hard enough watching him lose muscle tone and thinking of how much training we’re going to have to make-up. So I try to escape with as little response as possible, “he’s the same.” And we keep on.

Lame

Well, the blog has been slow to start in 2014 because there’s not much to write about when your horse is lame. That’s right – Ransom is taking an extended Christmas vacation. After a particularly frisky day in turnout, he’s been lame in his right hind leg. I don’t realize how much I take having a healthy horse for granted until he’s not sound.

My first course of action, as always, was to wait and see. With no apparent heat, swelling, or injury to his lower leg, I could only assume that his injury was in his hip or stifle. The way he hiked up his hip and short strided seemed to confirm that. However, after three weeks with no change, I took advantage of the chiropractor’s scheduled barn visit.

“He has a medial fixation of the right stifle and he’s out in his left hip,” she said as she adjusted him.

Great! That will be the answer and the fix. Alas, the following week he was no better. Now, we’re hovering in the rest-and-anti-inflammatory stage while we wait for the next vet visit.

Got Lucky

Soon I will be submitting a story I wrote about Ransom to an anthology of horse stories. It’s about my childhood dreams of having my own horse and how Ransom fulfilled them. As I wrote about the experience of buying my first horse, I realized that on the surface, it looks like I did a lot of things wrong.

Here’s my confession: I bought the one and only horse I went to look at. I didn’t ride him. I didn’t vet check him. One of my horse friends says, “You got lucky he worked out.” In my defense: I knew what I wanted. He was barely broke and there was no riding area. I wasn’t buying an expensive performance horse.

Still, I can see how it would look foolish and risky to others. At the time it was a leap for me too. But I wasn’t a novice. And I just knew.

I did the same thing with each car I’ve purchased. I decided on a make/model based on consumer reliability ratings, researched the value, and then watched Craigslist everyday – waiting for the right deal. That usually took a couple months. But when the right one showed up, I was ready to seize it.

The story doesn’t always reflect how much planning I put into big decisions, especially when finances are involved.  Buying the first thing you see sounds spur of the moment. Ransom was anything but. I had a checklist: breed, age, training, disposition, location, and price. It took me a week to even convince myself to go see him. During that time I arranged for the company of a knowledgeable friend, a trailer if I needed one, and took a hard look at my finances to see if this was feasible long term.

Perhaps my desire to do it right the first time is driven by a fear of failure. Or maybe it’s just to save the hassle of the search process. Either way, I did get lucky.

The Instigator

I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck as Ransom walked beside me, puffing frosty breaths into the frozen morning. He’d been cooped up in his stall over the weekend and his eyes gleamed with the anticipation of joining the herd of geldings I had turned out together in the field. As I closed the gate and buckled my now empty halter on the fence, “the boys” went through their ritual greeting – a sniff and a squeal.

Ransom pranced around trying to get a reaction, like a mischievous child who misbehaves to get attention. He tossed his head and stuck his tail straight up in the air. Play with me! But the older horses weren’t interested in the antics of this obnoxious youngster. He pushed his way through the group, nipping playfully at Noble’s belly.

Noble ignored him.

Nip, nip, nip.

Noble pinned his ears, irritated.

Nip, nip, nip.

Finally, Noble lifted a hind leg, gave Ransom the tail, and walked away. Undeterred, Ransom took off after him, bucking with exuberance. Zone the paint lifted his head to watch him frolic past, then went back to scouring the hard ground for something to eat.

With no playmates willing to tear around the field or engage in mock battle, Ransom eventually settled into the boring, mature task of grazing. For now.

Sunbathing

Windy the miniature horse trotted alongside me as I led her back to her paddock, which was adjacent to the large field where I turned Ransom out during the day. He often socialized with the pint-sized equines at the corner gate. He had hung a friendly face over the fence when I came to get Windy out, but now he lay in the dirt – a prone hunk of spots.

There is something disconcerting about a horse flat-out on the ground, bulging disproportionately in that unnatural position. My first reaction was to watch for the rise and fall of Ransom’s giant belly. As usual, he was just napping. Perhaps I’d worn him out with our morning ride.

After putting Windy away, I climbed through the fence to sit on the bars and watch him. He rolled up to look at me as I approached, but soon returned to his dusty bed. The warm noon sun cast my shadow over his legs, which stretched out so I could see the bottom of his hooves. As we soaked in the sun together, I marveled at the ingenuity of whoever first thought of using water as a metaphor for light. I could picture liquid light streaming around us. It made me feel sleepy, too.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten lunch yet and shaking me from my sun-drenched stupor. I inched out of the rails and snuck away, leaving Ransom to his sunbathing.