A Shocking Experience

The wind was wild today. The horses in the turnouts were snorting and sprinting around the paddock with tails in the air. Ransom too was affected by the weather, but not in the typical way. Was he full of attitude? No. Was he nervous and spooky? No. Was he hyper? Maybe a little. But the real reason he was on edge was because his whole body was static from the wind. I could hardly touch the poor guy without shocking both of us. His tail hairs fanned out and hung suspended like a chandelier.

Grooming was an interesting task. I tried to make sure not to touch Ransom with both hands, but even so, I could feel the little electrical shocks with each stroke of the brush. An inadvertent shock to the nose sent him jumping backwards uncharacteristically.

Ransom knows to stay away from the electric tape fencing his pasture, but he shouldn’t have to face electrocution from me. No cuddling today.

Tick Tally

When I ran my hand across Ransom’s coat and felt lots of little scabs, I knew tick season had arrived. Living out in pasture, he is a magnet. I think ticks are disgusting, but have long since overcome my distaste at their removal. After pulling a few out by hand, I remembered the tweezers in my car. They were an invaluable tool as I sifted for the tiny buggers in his long coat.

His flank and throat were the sweet spots, but they were difficult places to search. Ransom stood tolerantly, one leg cocked and eyes half closed, allowing me to poke and probe in ticklish areas. Our grooming routine time nearly doubled, but each find was a triumph, and by the end of the week, I had killed sixty-one of the nasty parasites! Now that’s a genocide I can justify.

Anniversary

Today is the six month anniversary of the day Ransom became mine. My riding instructor used to say that it takes a year to develop a bond between one horse and rider – not just some warm fuzzy emotional attachment but a relationship of trust and training. I think Ransom and I are well on our way, aided by the fact that he was a clean slate when I bought him.

I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed. Back in June, my circumstances seemed the worst possible time for Ransom to come into my life. But now, I have been able to look back and see God’s provision and plan through everything. After moving to a new city and leaving my friends, Ransom has been a constant in these past months, while the rest of my life was in upheaval. He has been my one reason to get out of the house every day, a welcome distraction from the pressures and discouragement of job searching. He has provided day-to-day structure and purpose that my life lacked elsewhere.

On the upside, not having a job has allowed me the time to enjoy my horse and the beautiful fall weather. God knew that Ransom was exactly what I needed during a difficult time of transition and change, and His timing is always perfect.

Passengers

When I was a teenager, sharing lesson horses, I vowed that when I got my own horse, no one else would ride it for at least six months. I wanted to buy a horse all on my own, without my parents’ help, so that I wouldn’t have to share it with my sisters.

Well, ten years later I feel a little less selfish and have realized that it’s entirely different when you have the choice to share or not. So when my best friend came to visit, Ransom took his first passenger for a ride after only four months of ownership. After I helped her mount up, my normally responsive gelding stood like a rock while she tried to get him to go. I like to think that he didn’t want to leave me, but more likely than not, he was thinking, “There’s a hesitant stranger on my back. What do I do?” I had to lead him to start him walking, and he finally made a few uncertain laps around the arena.

Just a few weeks later, I had my five year-old cousin out for her first ride. Ransom practically slept as I led her around on a lead line, dragging his feet in the sand and standing with his eyes half closed. I heard later that my young convert spent the next few days riding her bike around with rope reins and calling it Ransom.

My sisters will be home from college for Christmas soon, and I can’t wait for them to meet Ransom. It’s been fun to share the horse I love with the people I love. And it doesn’t make him any less mine.

Winter Welcome

Trying to show the texture
Notice the spot haloes

I visited Ransom on Sunday, which is normally the day I don't go to the barn. However, I was gone Friday and Saturday and wanted to make up for lost time. Ransom had taken advantage of the two days off to thoroughly crust himself in mud.  The first storm of the season had just passed, leaving behind his fluffy, dirt-caked coat. I forget in the summertime how much longer it takes to groom in the winter - but I certainly don't mind spending time brushing him. Appaloosas have an interesting coat texture when their fur grows long. Ransom’s spots have a raised, embossed feel that differentiates them from the sleeker surrounding white hair, a quality unable to be appreciated until he’s clean.

 Sometimes I wonder if horses deliberately get dirty just so they can enjoy more frequent grooming by their personal masseuse. However, I'm a believer in letting a horse be a horse, so bring on the dirt!