Thursday, May 20, 2010
Just a little sore
Ace has bounced back like nothing happened. He even stood for the farrier yesterday. We were prepared to skip the hind feet if he was sore and objected, but nope, he was a good boy. As an added bonus, he seems to not to have had any reaction to the tetnus shot he got while he was lying flat out. Everybody else in the barn is limping around and feeling sorry for themsleves, but Acey is just fine.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Exploratory Surgery
We were hoping that we had found the second nut, smaller, forward of the scrotal sac. No such luck. Today the vet came out to check. He sedated Ace and palpated. Undecided.
We moved him out to the arena where he palpated him again. See, this isn’t always an easy call…. Gave him more sedative and dropped him… palpated some more. He decided it was worth a chance to make an incision. He says sometimes you’ll get in there, and the second one will be up alongside the larger one and no bigger than a peanut. He’s seen that happen often enough to feel an incision was warranted.
Mom held the hind leg on a rope, and I comforted Ace while Dr. Tim made a 3 inch incision and explored. He was in there a long time. Mom and I held out hope. But in the end, no nut… peanut or otherwise. Mom was so disappointed. Dr. Tim looked up and said “Don’t cry Brenda”. But it could have been all over! Right then! I think we both sort of felt like crying.
Ah well. Ace’s boo-boo will be allowed to heal, and then he will be scheduled for abdominal surgery in Cleveland. He lay there quietly for about 10 minutes until I uncovered his eye. He rolled up onto his chest and waited for about another 10 before getting to his feet on the first try. It was sort of nice to be able to handle him while he stood placidly allowing me to play with his forelock and finger comb the unruly part of his mane behind his ears. I waited until he was looking pretty bright and starting to chew on the rope before leading him slowly but surely back to his stall where I left him tied, subdued but bright-eyed. Not much gets this boy down. Of course, there were only three little drops of blood, and it was only a skin incision, so whoop-dee-do. It's not like we ripped them out. He will be on antibiotics for a couple of days, and his one good nut has gone into hiding for the time being. I don’t blame it.
Administering the second dose of sedative...
Explaining to Dr. Tim that he would be featured on Ace's Blog...
Down for the count...
We moved him out to the arena where he palpated him again. See, this isn’t always an easy call…. Gave him more sedative and dropped him… palpated some more. He decided it was worth a chance to make an incision. He says sometimes you’ll get in there, and the second one will be up alongside the larger one and no bigger than a peanut. He’s seen that happen often enough to feel an incision was warranted.
Mom held the hind leg on a rope, and I comforted Ace while Dr. Tim made a 3 inch incision and explored. He was in there a long time. Mom and I held out hope. But in the end, no nut… peanut or otherwise. Mom was so disappointed. Dr. Tim looked up and said “Don’t cry Brenda”. But it could have been all over! Right then! I think we both sort of felt like crying.
Ah well. Ace’s boo-boo will be allowed to heal, and then he will be scheduled for abdominal surgery in Cleveland. He lay there quietly for about 10 minutes until I uncovered his eye. He rolled up onto his chest and waited for about another 10 before getting to his feet on the first try. It was sort of nice to be able to handle him while he stood placidly allowing me to play with his forelock and finger comb the unruly part of his mane behind his ears. I waited until he was looking pretty bright and starting to chew on the rope before leading him slowly but surely back to his stall where I left him tied, subdued but bright-eyed. Not much gets this boy down. Of course, there were only three little drops of blood, and it was only a skin incision, so whoop-dee-do. It's not like we ripped them out. He will be on antibiotics for a couple of days, and his one good nut has gone into hiding for the time being. I don’t blame it.
Administering the second dose of sedative...
Explaining to Dr. Tim that he would be featured on Ace's Blog...
Down for the count...
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A Battle of Hormones
When I got to the barn today, Ace was standing calmly in his stall and put his nose through the bars in a friendly invitation for petting and nose-kissing. I thought perhaps I would just slip in while he was quiet, and see if he would remain calm and friendly. I immediately discovered that this sweetness was merely a ruse to lure me in so he could get down to his real agenda which was to rape and pillage. Well buddy, if it’s a battle of hormones you want, two can play that game. I went back out for the whapper stick and returned to his shoulder.
He gave me the hairy eyeball and would duck and dodge, teeth barred, frothing, looking for an opening. Each time he made a move to grab at me, I thwacked him in the chest with the whapper. As his frustration increased, he began to shove with his shoulder, and loom over me. If I reached for his halter he pushes towards me, not away and whe I protested, he swung his butt at me. We went a few rounds with the whapper and relearned the “face me” rule. Back to the attempts to bite, and the whapper thwacking. After a little while, Ace wisely conceded that it was still a bad idea to try to bite a human. He opted instead to channel his aggression on the water bucket and the hay net which suffered several attacks. He accepts human dominance, but he hates it.
Last Saturday I gave him another short longe session, and he was just as smart about it as the first time. Two days ago he banged an ankle (most likely pawing at dinner time) and was a little sore and had Bute for a couple of days. He's very good about taking medicine, whether you shoot it in his mouth or mix it in his grain. Today the swelling was done, and he was ready for another learning session. I got the line clipped on him quite easily. I guess he retained the “don’t bite” lesson for at least half an hour and I was rather pleased. Mom showed up at the barn and told me Copy is in heat again. That would explain the rape and pillage agenda, as well as the wall thumping coming from her stall.
Ace’s main focus when I am leading him from his stall to the arena, is oddly not the mare’s stall, but the cross tie area. He is enchanted with it. That’s where he gets fussed over and then he gets a carrot so it’s his favorite place. This is how things go when I allow him in there:
Ace heads for the back corner and the door to the tack room
Ace: “oooo kitty…. I wanna pet the kitty. Here kitty kitty....”
Me: “Ace, no. You can’t go in there. You’re like a bull in a china shop.” I drag him to the left as he reaches for the fly spray bottle, knocking it off it’s hook.
Ace swings around, he sees a double bridle hanging from a hook on the opposite wall, and his eyes widen
Ace: “ooooOOoo That's so cool... what is it?.” He grabs it by the caveson pulling it off the hook. The double bridle unravels into a net of leather, tangling in the lead rope.
Me: “Ace, no. That’s not yours. Please look with your eyes, not your mouth. Let. Go.” Have I ever mentioned that once he has hold of something it’s impossible to remove from his mouth? I pry a finger inside his mouth, poking under his tongue “Let. Go.” Ace loses interest and drops the bridle in a pile on the floor, his eyes moving on to the next interesting object.
Ace: “Hey’s what’s this?” turning off the light switch.
I manage to separate him from the light switch “on-off on-off on-off... look, it moves!” and fasten one cross tie.
Ace: “Ah a SNAP. I loves snaps!” Ace makes a wild grab for the rope.
I struggle to snap the second rope as Ace resorts to a game of keepaway. “NahNahNah you ca-an’t catch me.” AAAAGGGGHHHHH!
So, today we skipped the grooming routine and went straight to longe lessons. Once again, he’s brilliant. He “gets” it. He even seems to enjoy it. I begin introducing planned gait changes and more word commands. He understands “Whoa”, and “Whoop-Trot” (which only applies to downward canter-trot transitions). Today I begin to introduce the others. “Walk” this is a toughie but he finds it somewhere between "whoa" and "trot", a trilling “trot” which is an easy concept and “ca-anter” in a sing songy voice. He begins to catch on. The key to teaching gait changes is timing. You watch what the horse is about to do, and you use the right word.
Ace is getting a big kick out of this. He forgets about rape and pillage and happily lets me approach either shoulder, and pet his face taking credit where credit is due for his excellent obedience. He needs to work on “front and center”. He can’t seem to keep his eyes straight ahead today, but it’s a huge improvement from the vicious stallion attitude he had in his stall. He is a dychotomy of personality. He hates human dominance, but give him a task and he is fully absorbed. His eyes soften, and he looks to his handler for approval glowing with each "good boy".
After about 10 minutes of perfect obedience, he has a hormone surge. Suddenly he is cantering around grabbing for the longe line. He can’t seem to catch it, and it’s making him mad. I stand in the center chuckling at his little melt down. “Ace. ‘Whoa’ !” He comes back to earth a bit dazed and confused. “I don’t know what came over me.” I think learning is over for today. Time to quit.
I turned Ace loose, and he went on patrol of the arena. He found a fresh pile of manure from the Grey Horse, and in the course of five minutes, had pooped on it twice. That boy just isn't right!
He gave me the hairy eyeball and would duck and dodge, teeth barred, frothing, looking for an opening. Each time he made a move to grab at me, I thwacked him in the chest with the whapper. As his frustration increased, he began to shove with his shoulder, and loom over me. If I reached for his halter he pushes towards me, not away and whe I protested, he swung his butt at me. We went a few rounds with the whapper and relearned the “face me” rule. Back to the attempts to bite, and the whapper thwacking. After a little while, Ace wisely conceded that it was still a bad idea to try to bite a human. He opted instead to channel his aggression on the water bucket and the hay net which suffered several attacks. He accepts human dominance, but he hates it.
Last Saturday I gave him another short longe session, and he was just as smart about it as the first time. Two days ago he banged an ankle (most likely pawing at dinner time) and was a little sore and had Bute for a couple of days. He's very good about taking medicine, whether you shoot it in his mouth or mix it in his grain. Today the swelling was done, and he was ready for another learning session. I got the line clipped on him quite easily. I guess he retained the “don’t bite” lesson for at least half an hour and I was rather pleased. Mom showed up at the barn and told me Copy is in heat again. That would explain the rape and pillage agenda, as well as the wall thumping coming from her stall.
Ace’s main focus when I am leading him from his stall to the arena, is oddly not the mare’s stall, but the cross tie area. He is enchanted with it. That’s where he gets fussed over and then he gets a carrot so it’s his favorite place. This is how things go when I allow him in there:
Ace heads for the back corner and the door to the tack room
Ace: “oooo kitty…. I wanna pet the kitty. Here kitty kitty....”
Me: “Ace, no. You can’t go in there. You’re like a bull in a china shop.” I drag him to the left as he reaches for the fly spray bottle, knocking it off it’s hook.
Ace swings around, he sees a double bridle hanging from a hook on the opposite wall, and his eyes widen
Ace: “ooooOOoo That's so cool... what is it?.” He grabs it by the caveson pulling it off the hook. The double bridle unravels into a net of leather, tangling in the lead rope.
Me: “Ace, no. That’s not yours. Please look with your eyes, not your mouth. Let. Go.” Have I ever mentioned that once he has hold of something it’s impossible to remove from his mouth? I pry a finger inside his mouth, poking under his tongue “Let. Go.” Ace loses interest and drops the bridle in a pile on the floor, his eyes moving on to the next interesting object.
Ace: “Hey’s what’s this?” turning off the light switch.
I manage to separate him from the light switch “on-off on-off on-off... look, it moves!” and fasten one cross tie.
Ace: “Ah a SNAP. I loves snaps!” Ace makes a wild grab for the rope.
I struggle to snap the second rope as Ace resorts to a game of keepaway. “NahNahNah you ca-an’t catch me.” AAAAGGGGHHHHH!
So, today we skipped the grooming routine and went straight to longe lessons. Once again, he’s brilliant. He “gets” it. He even seems to enjoy it. I begin introducing planned gait changes and more word commands. He understands “Whoa”, and “Whoop-Trot” (which only applies to downward canter-trot transitions). Today I begin to introduce the others. “Walk” this is a toughie but he finds it somewhere between "whoa" and "trot", a trilling “trot” which is an easy concept and “ca-anter” in a sing songy voice. He begins to catch on. The key to teaching gait changes is timing. You watch what the horse is about to do, and you use the right word.
Ace is getting a big kick out of this. He forgets about rape and pillage and happily lets me approach either shoulder, and pet his face taking credit where credit is due for his excellent obedience. He needs to work on “front and center”. He can’t seem to keep his eyes straight ahead today, but it’s a huge improvement from the vicious stallion attitude he had in his stall. He is a dychotomy of personality. He hates human dominance, but give him a task and he is fully absorbed. His eyes soften, and he looks to his handler for approval glowing with each "good boy".
After about 10 minutes of perfect obedience, he has a hormone surge. Suddenly he is cantering around grabbing for the longe line. He can’t seem to catch it, and it’s making him mad. I stand in the center chuckling at his little melt down. “Ace. ‘Whoa’ !” He comes back to earth a bit dazed and confused. “I don’t know what came over me.” I think learning is over for today. Time to quit.
I turned Ace loose, and he went on patrol of the arena. He found a fresh pile of manure from the Grey Horse, and in the course of five minutes, had pooped on it twice. That boy just isn't right!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Child Prodigy
I would tell you that I taught Ace to longe this weekend, but in actuality, there was no teaching involved. What I did was put the longe line on him and begin to longe him. Both ways, at a walk and a trot. No problems. Ace grabbed the longe line, went to the end of it and began circling like a pro. Within 5 seconds he had judged this new activity as being far more palatable than walking shoulder to shoulder with a human.
The only awkward moment was the first time I told him "whoa" and he refused. Since I had him on the line, I just realed him in. The fact that he was being drawn in by some unseen gravitational force caused him some frustrations, but he finally submitted.
As payback for my new found unseen gravitational force, Ace decided I was not allowed to approach him from the right, which is our oldest argument. But I persist... So he tries to bite. Same old same old.
Sometimes it takes awhile, but eventually he will stand quietly without biting. He feels a lot less smart about himself being on a line, so no snorting or showing off. Just boring work. **sigh**
The only awkward moment was the first time I told him "whoa" and he refused. Since I had him on the line, I just realed him in. The fact that he was being drawn in by some unseen gravitational force caused him some frustrations, but he finally submitted.
As payback for my new found unseen gravitational force, Ace decided I was not allowed to approach him from the right, which is our oldest argument. But I persist... So he tries to bite. Same old same old.
Sometimes it takes awhile, but eventually he will stand quietly without biting. He feels a lot less smart about himself being on a line, so no snorting or showing off. Just boring work. **sigh**
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Was that Submission?
There have been a couple of signs this week that Ace will not always be a naughty boy. First, we had visitors on Saturday, and they wanted to see the horses. Ace was standing guard over the barn from the pipe corral, so we went to visit him first. I warned the visitors that he might bite, but to go ahead and pet him. They petted his face for about five minutes before he showed any signs of being nippy. Mostly, he was friendly and curious. So, that went remarkably well.
Today Ace looked like he really wanted to play. I got the longe whip and went into the arena with him. He raced around for 10 minutes with me not moving a muscle. In and out the door, around this way, back out, back in, around that way. Finally he had enough of me standing about in such a boorish manner, and he had to invite me to interact. He would "whoa" on his own, then sashay up to me like a dancer, mincing his steps, suspended 6 inches above the ground. If I made a move towards him, then he would leap in the air and rocket off again. "Nah na Nah na na... you ca-an't catch me". As his clock began to run down, I enforced "whoa stand" and walked up to him. I put my arm over his back as if I were mounted and pulled my hip up to his side, and stayed with him as he wiggled about and gave me the "hairy eyeball". If he reached to bite, I would tap the bridge of his nose with the butt of the longe whip "no bite". I did this several times on each side, waiting until he was standing quietly before stepping away from him and sending him back out on the circle.
After a few whoa sessions, and getting rapped on the snout for trying to bite, he began chewing, took a deep breath and dropped his head to his knees to study the ground. What's this? Submission?
Today Ace looked like he really wanted to play. I got the longe whip and went into the arena with him. He raced around for 10 minutes with me not moving a muscle. In and out the door, around this way, back out, back in, around that way. Finally he had enough of me standing about in such a boorish manner, and he had to invite me to interact. He would "whoa" on his own, then sashay up to me like a dancer, mincing his steps, suspended 6 inches above the ground. If I made a move towards him, then he would leap in the air and rocket off again. "Nah na Nah na na... you ca-an't catch me". As his clock began to run down, I enforced "whoa stand" and walked up to him. I put my arm over his back as if I were mounted and pulled my hip up to his side, and stayed with him as he wiggled about and gave me the "hairy eyeball". If he reached to bite, I would tap the bridge of his nose with the butt of the longe whip "no bite". I did this several times on each side, waiting until he was standing quietly before stepping away from him and sending him back out on the circle.
After a few whoa sessions, and getting rapped on the snout for trying to bite, he began chewing, took a deep breath and dropped his head to his knees to study the ground. What's this? Submission?
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
No I won't.... Yes you will
When I went to catch Ace to lead him in for lunch he was horrible. So, we went for a walk-about in the indoor, and in and out of the sacrifice pen. He was still horrible. Threatening to bite, or rear, or bite me and THEN rear. Copy was in her stall screaming her head off while worrying that I might be sneaking him out of the barn without her knowledge. Guess who's in heat? Suprise suprise.
I marched Ace back in, tied him to the nearest post, and headed back to the tack room to gather my thoughts and more equipment.
Whapper... check
Lead with chain... check
Helmet? I thought about it for a moment.
I went back in, threaded the chain over his nose, unsnapped the rope he was tied with, and gave him a few pre-emptory whapps to let him know I was now officially in charge. Gosh he hates me today. We spent about 5 minutes leading in the arena, and in and out to the pen. Gradually, he settled in and remembered his manners as I doggedly circled and made soothing noises as if he weren't acting like the worst mannered colt in America.
As we were walking, Mom came to the barn... "trying to train Putrid?" Boy she had him pegged today. He was plodding around on a loose chain with his head low.... but certainly only for the moment. I brought him to the cross ties to work on his tail. I've got the rubbing slowed down, but not completely stopped. The vet did fecals on Friday... no worms. Now it's just habit and shedding. He was fine on the crossties, but you could tell he still really hated me and thought I needed a reminder of who is boss. Mom suggested he needed to run around a bit, so back to the arena. I grabbed a longe whip and headed in there with him.
He rocketed around happily.... remember, when I got to the barn he was already out and had had all morning to run around... but he headn't realised how much he hated me yet. After a few minutes I started with the "Whoas". It took four or five, but he remembered and pulled up. I approached him, and he let me stand beside him while he snorted. Snorting is something he picked up the same day he learned "whoa". It's his expression of how proud he is to be obeying a command, and being praised for it. I never heard him snort before that day. Now he does it everytime I praise him for "whoa". Very neat.
The next "whoa" I tried to approach him from the right eye. Not happening. He rocketed off in another direction. As he passed me I snapped him with the whip, made him circle a few times, then "whoa" again. This time he allowed me to approach from that side, snorting proudly as he accepted my authority and was rewarded. What was an unruly wild stallion had become a mannerly trained horse. Each time I could come up to his side or head on, pet his nostrils and forehead, and put my hand on his back without being challenged or even nipped at. Who would think this obedient and docile animal had threatened to pick me up and shake me not 20 minutes earlier. We did this a few more times, then my goal became to "whoa" in each of the four corners of the arena. We had the front two down pat, but the rear corners were tough. I kept him in the back half until I got one back corner stuck. We "whoa"ed two or three times in that one then worked on the last one.
No I won't... Yes you will... the first few times I got him stopped in that corner, he did not allow me to step forward before he barreled past me headed for the gate. Each time I snapped him as he bombed past. No I won't... Yes you will... Once he seriously looked like he was going over first me and then the gate and probably would have had Mom not been waving her arms and hollering.... back to the backside, and you're not coming out until I say so. A few minutes of me immitating a cutting horse, and he finally gave in.
Now mind you, while this "natural horsemanship" (which I guess I was practicing back before it was called that and we referred to it as "common sense" instead) approach has gotten him trained to "whoa" and accept my approach while he stands like a statue, he has certainly not "joined up". There is no calm drop of the head, no relaxed chewing of the jaw, very little submission. He waits proudly for me to come up and tell him what a smart cookie he is and his pride in himself grows to the point where he has to snort to let off some happiness. But hey, he's standing still, and he's letting me touch him all over his head without him having to warn me off with his dominance so it is a resounding success. Testosterone successfully rechanneled.
I marched Ace back in, tied him to the nearest post, and headed back to the tack room to gather my thoughts and more equipment.
Whapper... check
Lead with chain... check
Helmet? I thought about it for a moment.
I went back in, threaded the chain over his nose, unsnapped the rope he was tied with, and gave him a few pre-emptory whapps to let him know I was now officially in charge. Gosh he hates me today. We spent about 5 minutes leading in the arena, and in and out to the pen. Gradually, he settled in and remembered his manners as I doggedly circled and made soothing noises as if he weren't acting like the worst mannered colt in America.
As we were walking, Mom came to the barn... "trying to train Putrid?" Boy she had him pegged today. He was plodding around on a loose chain with his head low.... but certainly only for the moment. I brought him to the cross ties to work on his tail. I've got the rubbing slowed down, but not completely stopped. The vet did fecals on Friday... no worms. Now it's just habit and shedding. He was fine on the crossties, but you could tell he still really hated me and thought I needed a reminder of who is boss. Mom suggested he needed to run around a bit, so back to the arena. I grabbed a longe whip and headed in there with him.
He rocketed around happily.... remember, when I got to the barn he was already out and had had all morning to run around... but he headn't realised how much he hated me yet. After a few minutes I started with the "Whoas". It took four or five, but he remembered and pulled up. I approached him, and he let me stand beside him while he snorted. Snorting is something he picked up the same day he learned "whoa". It's his expression of how proud he is to be obeying a command, and being praised for it. I never heard him snort before that day. Now he does it everytime I praise him for "whoa". Very neat.
The next "whoa" I tried to approach him from the right eye. Not happening. He rocketed off in another direction. As he passed me I snapped him with the whip, made him circle a few times, then "whoa" again. This time he allowed me to approach from that side, snorting proudly as he accepted my authority and was rewarded. What was an unruly wild stallion had become a mannerly trained horse. Each time I could come up to his side or head on, pet his nostrils and forehead, and put my hand on his back without being challenged or even nipped at. Who would think this obedient and docile animal had threatened to pick me up and shake me not 20 minutes earlier. We did this a few more times, then my goal became to "whoa" in each of the four corners of the arena. We had the front two down pat, but the rear corners were tough. I kept him in the back half until I got one back corner stuck. We "whoa"ed two or three times in that one then worked on the last one.
No I won't... Yes you will... the first few times I got him stopped in that corner, he did not allow me to step forward before he barreled past me headed for the gate. Each time I snapped him as he bombed past. No I won't... Yes you will... Once he seriously looked like he was going over first me and then the gate and probably would have had Mom not been waving her arms and hollering.... back to the backside, and you're not coming out until I say so. A few minutes of me immitating a cutting horse, and he finally gave in.
Now mind you, while this "natural horsemanship" (which I guess I was practicing back before it was called that and we referred to it as "common sense" instead) approach has gotten him trained to "whoa" and accept my approach while he stands like a statue, he has certainly not "joined up". There is no calm drop of the head, no relaxed chewing of the jaw, very little submission. He waits proudly for me to come up and tell him what a smart cookie he is and his pride in himself grows to the point where he has to snort to let off some happiness. But hey, he's standing still, and he's letting me touch him all over his head without him having to warn me off with his dominance so it is a resounding success. Testosterone successfully rechanneled.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Studly McPoop
This weekend we had other barn projects, and all of my horses got passed over. So today, I made it a point to go out and spend some time with Ace. For starters, yesterday I spent over an hour in the crossties with Mom's Face-Off horse rescuing her (and him) from a long neglected long tail. It drags the ground at least 4 feet, and hadn't been down in over two years. While I was tangled up in the tail, Grey Horse was in the outdoor arena running a marathon. I had to pause, sling the wet tail over Face-Off's back and go and retreive him. In the meantime, Ace was very perturbed that there was a horse in the cross ties, and he was being ignored. Egged on by Grey's ramming around outside, he also thundered around the indoor and the pipe corral.
Ace's running turned into shoving as he slammed his chest repeatedly against the gate next to the crossties causing the water bucket which is hanging on the outside of the gate to splash water in the aisle. How annoying. The third time he did this, I took down the bucket. Sometimes I do what I call "when smart people do dumb things". It didn't occur to me taking the bucket down would pose a problem. But it did. Ace was leaning over the gate trying to reach the bucket which had been taken away, and he managed to catch the throat strap of his halter on the eye bolt the bucket snaps to. He struggled with that, finally breaking his halter at the crown buckle. Oh well, at least now he couldn't splash the bucket, and he couldn't get caught again. I finished the tail, and when Ace had sorted himself out and calmed down, re-haltered him and put him away. Re-haltering the dervish wasn't too bad, once I got the halter pried back out of his mouth. He can catch anything you try to put near his head.
So today, I wanted to tie him and make sure he didn't equate breaking the halter with tying. I tied him up to the arena wall. He happily fiddled with the knot and stood patiently alone while I got some brushes and took a little more winter hair off him. Tying went smoothly. Whew... bad habit averted.
Then, I got Copy out for a hair/mud scraping. She was acting a bit weird today. She kept picking up each hoof and replacing it. She just acted very mildly colicy/foundery but with no definite symptoms. I picked out each hoof and found them packed with gravel and mud. Maybe it just felt weird? I took her for a walk down the driveway to eat some grass and further assess her condition which seemed fine... not lame, perky, excellent appetite...
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Studly McPoop was having a FIT. He was out in the pipe corral beside the barn fussing and fuming over "his mare" leaving him. She was (OMG!) a good 75 feet from the barn and he was enraged. Because he appeared to be respecting the fence with no real plan to go over it, or take it down, I just watched his antics and had a good chuckle. He made a few laps bucking and kicking. Then, while straining to look over the high panels, he made a poop. On his next circuit he noticed this fresh poop. He slammed to a halt to examine it. How could this have escaped his notice? There was obviously another horse (a stallion even) in his territory. He smelled it every which way, and made an (unsucessful) attempt to poop on his poop pile. Another circuit bucking and kicking, and again the attempt to mark his territory. Poor little guy. Where is the poop amo when you need it? How very frustrating!
Ace's running turned into shoving as he slammed his chest repeatedly against the gate next to the crossties causing the water bucket which is hanging on the outside of the gate to splash water in the aisle. How annoying. The third time he did this, I took down the bucket. Sometimes I do what I call "when smart people do dumb things". It didn't occur to me taking the bucket down would pose a problem. But it did. Ace was leaning over the gate trying to reach the bucket which had been taken away, and he managed to catch the throat strap of his halter on the eye bolt the bucket snaps to. He struggled with that, finally breaking his halter at the crown buckle. Oh well, at least now he couldn't splash the bucket, and he couldn't get caught again. I finished the tail, and when Ace had sorted himself out and calmed down, re-haltered him and put him away. Re-haltering the dervish wasn't too bad, once I got the halter pried back out of his mouth. He can catch anything you try to put near his head.
So today, I wanted to tie him and make sure he didn't equate breaking the halter with tying. I tied him up to the arena wall. He happily fiddled with the knot and stood patiently alone while I got some brushes and took a little more winter hair off him. Tying went smoothly. Whew... bad habit averted.
Then, I got Copy out for a hair/mud scraping. She was acting a bit weird today. She kept picking up each hoof and replacing it. She just acted very mildly colicy/foundery but with no definite symptoms. I picked out each hoof and found them packed with gravel and mud. Maybe it just felt weird? I took her for a walk down the driveway to eat some grass and further assess her condition which seemed fine... not lame, perky, excellent appetite...
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Studly McPoop was having a FIT. He was out in the pipe corral beside the barn fussing and fuming over "his mare" leaving him. She was (OMG!) a good 75 feet from the barn and he was enraged. Because he appeared to be respecting the fence with no real plan to go over it, or take it down, I just watched his antics and had a good chuckle. He made a few laps bucking and kicking. Then, while straining to look over the high panels, he made a poop. On his next circuit he noticed this fresh poop. He slammed to a halt to examine it. How could this have escaped his notice? There was obviously another horse (a stallion even) in his territory. He smelled it every which way, and made an (unsucessful) attempt to poop on his poop pile. Another circuit bucking and kicking, and again the attempt to mark his territory. Poor little guy. Where is the poop amo when you need it? How very frustrating!
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