The livestock around here

A long-time AOL friend emailed me this morning asking about Libby.

Libby's been gone a long time, Jo. You must have missed this entry. I did love Libby, but I realized I had neither the energy or the know-how to start from scratch breaking a horse, nor the money to get her to a professional. After realizing yesterday how fat Blue is without my even noticing the weight-gain, I'm questioning whether I deserve one horse! (Don't worry, Blue isn't going anywhere.)

Jo also asked about Meatloaf and Secret. I've deliberately been quiet about those two, because some city folks get upset about the fact that animals have to disappear... either to be butchered or to be sold. Meatloaf is living on borrowed time: He's only here because it hasn't been convenient to get him loaded and take him to the butcher shop.

Secret has been at Cliff's brother's place with a bull, getting her sixth or seventh chance to get pregnant... I've stopped counting. If nothing happens this time, we'll likely just cut our losses and take her to the sale barn, where she won't bring much, because cattle prices are down. But my freezer won't hold the meat from two animals, even small animals.

Will I ever have a Jersey cow again? Very possibly, yes; but I may buy a grown one, either bred or with a calf by her side. Time will tell.

Blue is going to have to reside in a pen alone, since out of three horses that live here, he's the only one who insists on overeating. I'll probably start letting him out for an hour or so a day, maybe twice a day, so he can play with his equine friends. But I've put off the inevitable for too long. He really can't be allowed to eat as much as he likes.

When I first got him, I thought he had foundered (because of his fat neck) and kept him on dry-lot for over a year. That worked just dandy, and would still be the ideal situation for him; unfortunately, that particular dry lot is now our front yard... more or less. I turned Blue out onto grass after both the vet and the farrier assured me he'd never had laminitis. There have been several times I've kept him stalled for his own good, but never for long.

I hope this entry doesn't set off a flurry of comments asking about founder again. To see more about my experiences with founder, click HERE.

and speaking of Craigslist

A couple of months ago, I had a serious talk with myself about Libby. I love that filly. Even Cliff loves her, and he's not much for horses. But it's obvious I was never going to get her broke to ride by myself, and I didn't want to throw more money into getting her trained when horses are worth so little right now... especially grade fillies.

I kept saying that as soon as Cliff had time to take some pictures of Libby, I'd put her on Craigslist for $300. Catching Cliff with any extra time is very difficult just now, thanks to our recent moving, and the moving of his sister into our old house. Not to mention that it's haying time. Which means you usually see Cliff doing something like this

or this.
So yesterday when we went for our walk, I took my camera along in case we came upon the horses, and I had Cliff take this picture and a couple of others.
I described Libby in an ad as accurately as I knew how, emphasizing that she is not broke but that I've been on her a few times in the round pen. I extolled her gentle nature and mentioned that she's naturally gaited. I stated, "If I can't get $300 for her, I'll keep her as a pet."

One man kept insisting he was interested in her for his eleven-year-old daughter; I firmly told him I would never recommend an unbroke horse for a child.

Today a different man came to look at her, saw how sweet-natured she is, and gave me the money right then and there. He'll be back in eight or ten days to get her. He raises gaited mules, and Libby will get to be a professional mom. How cool is that?

Many years ago I tried to raise a colt and vowed I'd never do it again; the colt was unresponsive, and I realized I wasn't qualified to train horses. I'm glad I broke that vow, because Libby has been a joy to have around, even though I'm no more qualified now that I was before. Some horses, like some people, radiate joy. That's Libby.

One reason I knew I needed to sell her is that I've seen some excellent bargains on older horses that are well-broke. Horses that are ready to ride, that even a child could ride. I refused to even think about another horse as long as Libby was here. Horses are not cheap to have around. We raise our own hay, but it isn't free by any means. My husband works hard to get it up dry and in the barn, and diesel fuel for the tractors is sky-high.

So I'm sure I'm doing the right thing. I asked the man if he'd keep my email address and send me a picture of Libby with her first mule-baby. He said he would. I sure hope he remembers!

Horses turned out to pasture

I have to tell you, I was disappointed in this video. The horses have been confined pretty close to the house and barn in order to give the rest of the pasture a chance to green up and grow. Saturday Cliff took down the electric fence that confined them.

I expected them to run and buck and kick up their heels, once they realized they were free. That didn't happen. When they saw that they could get beyond where the electric fence had been, all of them (starting with Libby) ran to check it out. But once they were across their former boundary, they simply put their heads down and started picking at the short grass.

Notice that Libby, always the ham, keeps coming close to me. She loves people, and she's a total ham. I swear she knows what the camera is. Watch her pose.

Libby again

When I'm working Libby in the round pen, not only does she come to me when I lower the whip, but if I walk around, she follows close behind. We had a great, relaxed session today.

The horses aren't on the main pasture yet because the grass hasn't really started growing. It has indeed been a long winter, because normally by now there'd be plenty of pasture. Usually if I'm not pressed for time, before I take Libby out with the rest of the horses, I let her nibble at what grass she can find in the yard. She loves this.

Today I figured I'd turn her loose in the section that we hay once a year in spring, before we use it for pasture. You can see by the pictures our grass isn't growing much, but there's some green there. Horses have teeth that can tear grass off if there's only a quarter-inch showing.

For some reason, Libby wasn't enthusiastic about the pasture grass. We've had the calves on this section, and they're picking at it all the time. Oh, she'd taste it. But for the most part, she followed me around like she had done in the round pen. I wanted to take some pictures of her, but it was hard to get far enough away from her to get a whole-body shot. If I trotted (believe me, I don't trot much), so did she.

I think I have a friend.

Libby

I'm working with my filly almost daily now. Time spent with Libby is quite rewarding. Working on picking her up her feet is a drag, but we're making progress. The trick is not to hold her foot up long enough for her to take it away from me: If I think she'll jerk it away in three seconds, I put it down after two. Little by little I increase the time. She is getting better, and I'm learning to do simple things like making sure she's squared up on all fours before I pick up a foot, so she can keep her balance better. I am so awkward at things like this, not to mention that my reflexes aren't what they used to be. Anyway, we're making headway. One hind foot is still more of a problem than the others, for some reason.

Last summer and fall, before I ever attempted riding Libby, I was driving her in the round pen. I came to a point where I wondered if I was doing her more harm than good: when I first started working her, if I dropped the whip, she would come directly to me, facing me. That's what she is supposed to do. Later on, though, she started getting acting afraid, for some reason, and quit coming to me when I dropped the whip. So I decided to forgo round-penning.

I'm not knowledgeable about horse-training, and my confidence level isn't high. All I know is what I read online (like this), and the advice I get from experienced trainers. The folks on the Homesteading Today equine forum have helped me several times.

Today I groomed Libby and handled her feet, then rode her in the round pen; she's getting better at turning and stopping, and she will even back a couple of steps; mind you, I keep her at a walk because I'm still old and break easily. I led her back to the barn and was going to turn her out, but I decided to try lunging her first to see how she'd do.

And she did great! Well, she was confused at first because I had the whip in the wrong hand (stupid me); but once I got things right, she did fine. Every time I dropped the whip, she came right to me.

I am so uncoordinated that it's hard for me to remember some of the very simple rules of lunging: don't look the horse in the eye, for instance. That un-nerves them, and they feel threatened (that's what this article says; however, this article says the opposite. See why I get confused?). If you're driving the horse, you're supposed to keep your eyes on their buttocks to keep them moving forward. You don't use the whip to "whip" the horse, by the way. I very seldom even crack it.

All of this is supposed to establish pecking order and build trust. I'm beginning to think it might work, in spite of a novice trainer who hardly knows what she's doing.

All things Libby

I worked with Libby today. I'm getting her, once again, to the point where I can handle her feet and use the rasp on them. She backslid considerably after an unfortunate confrontation with Cliff, but she's doing much better. It's just a matter of patience on my part.

Then I rode her in the round pen for a few minutes with no problem.


She's always thirsty after we've been working together.

She'll stay nearby and follow me after I've turned her loose, for as long as I'm willing to stick around. In fact, it's difficult to take her picture because she won't stay far enough away.

So I take pictures like this one. Look at those eyelashes.

And this one.

Ah, there you see the ladies of our pasture: Libby and Sassy.

Another good day

Yesterday Cliff and I rode the motorcycle. We intended to go for another ride today, but the wind was so strong, we knew it wouldn't be fun. Cliff did several odd jobs around here, including planting a few potatoes. Supposedly, Good Friday is the time to plant potatoes.

I rode my horse, Blue, for an hour or so.

Then this afternoon I worked with my two-year-old filly, Libby. I had some backtracking to do.

Recently Cliff decided to trim Libby's feet for me. He'd had great success trimming Blue's feet, after all.

Libby had been allowing me to work with her feet just fine; but when Cliff came around she got all antsy and would pull her hind feet away from him. Unfortunately, Cliff has little patience with horses when they get contrary. He smacked her, and then smacked her again. He also raised his voice. It was not a pleasant day.

I knew at the time this was the wrong way to handle Libby's problem. I also know my husband, and realized it was better for all concerned if I kept my mouth shut.

So today I decided to work on getting Libby back to the point of letting me pick up her feet again.

There was no problem with the front hooves, but the back ones were a different story. When I started, she wouldn't allow me to pick up the left hind foot at all; she'd jerk it away from me.

After working with her for an hour and really working up a sweat, I was able to pick up either hind foot and even use the file on them briefly. I hope to work with Libby daily until she'll let me pick up her feet any time for as long as I want. Because no matter how sweet and loving a horse is, if you can't work on her feet, she's no good to anyone.

Cliff joined me and tried his hand at it. He agreed that losing his temper and smacking Libby had been the wrong thing to do. After a few tries, she finally allowed him to pick up her back feet.

I imagine it's the wrong way to train a horse, but I gave her a treat for behaving when she allowed Cliff to take her foot.

Thankfully, horses and dogs are very forgiving. We humans could learn a lot from them.

Funny how we change

I've had several horses in the years I've been married and living in the country. The first one was a green-broke mare (she was only two, so I guess she was really just a filly) named Ginger who wasn't much to brag about: she'd shy at the rustle of a leaf, and if you asked her to step across a tiny ditch, she'd brace herself and finally jump across it as though it were the Grand Canyon. I had small children back then, so I could only ride when Cliff was home to watch the babies.

Sometime in the '70's we owned a young Foxtrotter gelding I was really fond of. But I had a job at the time, and decided I wasn't riding him enough to merit keeping him around.

I've always said that I wouldn't keep a horse around if he wasn't being ridden. I see so many "pasture ornament" horses that nobody ever messes with, and I've laughed at people who'd waste money on a horse they never ride. Upkeep on a horse is expensive, you know?

But I guess I've gotten soft in my old age. Because I've told Cliff many times that as long as we're able to keep up with this place in the country, Blue isn't going anywhere. Whether I'm able to ride or not, he has a retirement home.

Cliff has accepted that; he even knows that I want Blue to go to a blogger friend in Oklahoma, if anything happens to me and he can't keep him.

One fear I have is that we'll have to part with this place before Blue dies, because he's only thirteen years old, and many horses live into their thirties. I'm sixty-three; can we keep up with this place for twenty more years? Dear Lord, we'll be in our eighties! And why on earth do I worry about the future of a horse in this manner?

Now Libby has worked her way into my heart in the same way.

I don't know what possessed me to buy a young filly in the first place; I certainly didn't need her. I saw the ad in the Kansas City Star, saw the words "bay" and "Foxtrotter" (like Blue) and just had to go look at her and make an offer. Stupid me.

Libby's only fault is that she's young. I could have saved myself the recent money I spent trying to get her trained by simply waiting for a couple of years and doing what I've been doing, because she has always had wonderful manners and a desire to please. She's just a "kid", and her attention span is short. And I was impatient and wanted to be able to safely ride her NOW. Don't ask me why I was in such a hurry, since I have Blue to ride.

Somebody on the local Craigslist has a Jersey cow with an adopted calf for sale. I could probably work out a reasonable trade, since the lady told me in email that they wanted to sell the calf next summer so they'll have money to buy their kids a horse.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't offer Libby to anyone; yesterday I stood between my two horses with a big, warm equine jaw against each cheek, hugging both their necks, and I realized I'm stuck with two animals I cannot bear to part with, even if I were never to ride Libby. How does a mother sell her children?

Yes, I guess I've gotten soft in my old age.

Never lie down in your breakfast

Cliff decided this particular bale of hay must not be high-quality enough, because the horses weren't eating it as fast as usual. I think what really happened is that when it's bitterly cold or snowy, Cliff gives the horses a bale of alfalfa. They fill up on that and aren't worried about their old run-of-the-mill grass-and-clover mix.

Anyhow, lest one of these spoiled beasts should suffer a hunger pang, he brought out a fresh bale. Blue appreciates this, because the remains of the old bale gives him a great place to lie down in comfort.

Notice we're back to four horses?



Libby's back. The one who always comes to meet me when I'm in the pasture. The one who never tires of being hugged.

And I think she's glad to be home.

We visited Libby

I can't say I was really impressed with the progress so far. I realize the weather has been bad, and Sammi hasn't been able to work with her every day. But I couldn't tell that she had taught my filly much. This could be one of those "you get what you pay for" deals; if so, it won't break the bank around here. Also, Sammi and her mom said Libby was doing great yesterday, and both seemed somewhat surprised at how she acted out today. So maybe she was simply having a bad day.

We shall see. At worst, I tossed some money away. Libby isn't harmed, I just don't see that her behavior is any better than it was before.

today

Monica went with me and Cliff to take Libby's hay over to the trainer's place; Libby appeared to be glad to see all of us.

That's the indoor round pen where they'll be training Libby.

This motorcycle trailer was on Craigslist; Cliff and I went to look at it. We'd love to have it, but we could buy a new one almost as cheap as what the guy wants for this used one.

One of these would be nice for grocery-shopping.

A brief word about my filly, Libby

Because I imagine not all my Blogger readers read my AOL journal, I figured I'd link to an entry about my two-and-one-half-year-old filly, Libby, in case you're interested.

I had reached a point with her where I had four choices: I could 1. let her be pasture furniture the rest of her life and pretend she's a big, friendly dog 2. Sell her and get very little money for her because horses (especially young, grade fillies) aren't bringing much, 3. keep messing around with her until she spooks at a strange noise and I get hurt because, after all, I'm 63 and I break easily, or, 4. spend a few bucks paying someone to finish her out. If you're interested in finding out which choice I made, click HERE.

(Hint: I've grown very attached to Libby.)

How big are my horses?

I've had Blue about four years now (how time flies when you're having fun). I had never measured him at the withers, but I've always assumed the local horse trader was right when he estimated him to be 16 to 16.2 hands. A hand is four inches, so that would be sixty-six inches tall at the withers. Because he seems like such a huge horse, it sounded right to me. After all, I have to get up on something to mount him. Of course, I do have bad knees.

Yesterday I had Cliff get out the tape measure to see how tall Libby is; I had guessed her to be fourteen hands, and that's exactly what she is. I'd really like her to grow to two more inches taller, but at 2 1/2 years of age, this may be her full adult height.

"Let's measure Blue while we're at it," I said.

Cliff made sure Blue was standing squarely, and measured twice. He's only fifteen-two. All this time I've been wrong about his size; he's four inches shorter than I thought.

I'm not going to tell Blue, though. I'd hate for him to get a complex.

Back to Libby: she seems not to have quite enough withers to hold the saddle in place when I'm mounting. Once I'm on her, the saddle stays put just fine; but it's hard to mount her without the saddle slipping sideways in the process. It's nothing I can't deal with, it's just a thing for me to puzzle over.

Are you tired of hearing about Libby yet?

I like to go out to the pasture, lie down, and watch for photo opportunities with my horses. You never know when they might pose real pretty, or cut up a little bit. Once I'm out there for awhile, they ignore me and act natural. That is, all except one.


Libby always seems concerned when she sees me sitting or lying on the ground, and comes right over to check.

It's really hard to take her picture when she's six inches from my face. (Look at those eyes.)

She nibbles at the grass right up next to me, and hangs around.


"Are you OK?" She seems to be saying. "Why aren't you petting me?"

She checks out every inch of my body; she's sure something must be wrong.

Finally she grazes her way away from me. But not too far away.

Libby and me

I posted these pictures in my AOL journal, but I am just so happy with how Libby is doing, I had to put them over here too. See how her ears are up and how happy she looks? She seems to feel that my being on her back is the most natural thing in the world.

The last time the grandson was on her, he had trouble getting her to go faster than a walk... she'd lay her ears back when he asked her to speed up. I'm sure she'll let me know when she's ready to go faster, but meanwhile I'm in no hurry.

She jumps around quite a bit when I tighten the girth up, but I've found if I give her a treat first, she's fine. She just needs to get used to things.

Because she's young, and not all that big, I don't ride her longer than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time.

I'm so proud of her!

More about ponying Libby

I had never heard of ponying a young horse to train them. I first saw the training method mentioned at the Homesteading Today horse forum. Then I typed "ponying a horse" into Google and found THIS ARTICLE.

The article says for the horse that's being used as a teacher, it's necessary to have a steady, dependable horse (preferably a gelding) that knows what he's doing. Blue was totally unfamiliar with the process when we started, but by the third or fourth session, he did great. I'd wrap the lead rope around the saddle horn, and when Libby would suddenly balk, Blue would keep on plodding ahead so that she had no choice but to come along.

Don't ask me how I know, but I can somehow tell that Blue enjoys having Libby along when we ride. Maybe he just likes having another horse beside us.

Blue and Libby are special friends. When I watch the four horses here nipping and squealing and kicking one another, as horses are wont to do in their fight for first place, Blue and Libby will join in the scuffle... but never will they threaten one another; they only show aggression toward the other two. They seem to have come to an understanding of some sort that they are family.



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Now playing: Stephen Fearing - Thrasher
via FoxyTunes

Libby today

I rode her around the round pen for ten or fifteen minutes, then rode her outside the pen just a little bit. I'm walking her around slowly, not taking any chances. She knows when I want her to turn now, and she stops when I say whoa. This is fun!

Today when I worked with her feet, I tried the method where you pick her hind feet up with a rope. I must say, that's going to be a faster way to teach her. I was surprised at how she responded. You loop a soft rope around the fetlock and lift the foot with the rope, and the horse cannot take its foot away. Very nice.

It works, so far!

I started with the simplest bit of advice I was given about working with Libby's back feet... the first one mentioned in the previous post. On my asking-for-advice post, someone left a comment saying the same thing:

"Make sure the horse is balanced to start with, then you ask for the foot for 1 second - YOU put it down. 2 seconds, 4 seconds, etc, and work your way up to a minute or so. The decision to put the foot down is ALWAYS yours. Spending some time each day working this way should help to solve the problem."

So I tied her, used the pick on her front hooves, and then picked up a back foot and instantly let it down, praising her profusely. Then the other back foot. Back and forth I went, counting to two before letting it down, then four. By the end of the session I was actually able to pick her hooves with the hoof pick (hastily, because I wanted to be the one to decide when her foot was going down).

I'm partially at fault for her behavior, because I haven't faithfully handled her each day like I should have. It was so awfully hot for so much of the summer that I dreaded doing anything, but I know that's an excuse; it's just easy to put things off, that's all. I'm making a new resolution to handle Libby's feet every day. It only takes ten minutes or so.

And for Guy, who also left a comment with advice: if it turns out to be a balance problem, I will surely try your advice. In fact, I need to be putting all four of her feet up on something once in awhile so she'll be used to it when the farrier comes. Thanks for reminding me.

a question for my horse-knowledgeable buddies

I rode Libby for about fifteen minutes in the round pen tonight; she did great. She's starting to understand me when I ask her to switch directions or stop.

Her biggest problem is this: She doesn't like to have her back feet picked up. When I pick one up, she pulls it away from me. She doesn't try to kick me, she just objects to my holding it. Sometimes she ends up setting it on my foot. Thank goodness I'm wearing my boots when that happens!

How should I handle this?

Me, on Libby

I leave my right foot out of the stirrup, in case I have to make a quick dismount. With the long weekend coming up, I intend to get the grandson on her a time or two. He's braver than I am. She hasn't done a single thing to make me wary of her, I'm just old and cowardly... and I break easily.

She gets a bite of feed when we're done.