The Storm

I figured I'd give everyone a little update on "Sandy", since most of you, dear readers, are on the West Coast and probably watching the news with concern.  The winds have picked up and they are coming from the North, which is unusual.  The sky is a moody dark grey and it should start raining anytime now.  We still have power, but the electric company has been broadcasting ominous press releases about likely widespread outages. 

Nox is tucked safely away in his stall, munching on hay with his 21 barn mates.  The stable owners are home keeping watch, and they have a back-up generator ready to go if they lose power.  They've weathered many ice storms and blizzards over the years and they assured me not to worry about Nox.  

Moose Dog and I are warm and dry in the house.  We have a fresh pan of double fudge brownies, gallons of water downstairs, and a shelf full of books to read by candlelight if the lights go out.  (We also have a generator if needed.)

Best Husband Ever is doing his superhero work and may be out all night.  I'm so proud of him.

Love to you all!

Update: It's Tuesday morning and besides a few hours of power outage last night and finding our welcome mat in the neighbor's yard this morning, we made it through the storm.  Our thoughts and prayers go to those who are dealing with much worse.

Klutz

Nox seems to be always banging his head into something.  As soon as one scrape above his eye heals, he gets another.  They're never deep or bloody - just small surface scrapes that take all the hair off.  Sometimes he scrapes his head on his feed bucket, after reaching his nose underneath it to pick up every last little bit of grain.  Sometimes he bangs his head on the fence rails, again, reaching through to graze or nibble.  Sometimes I have no idea how he does it.  Nox's stall is safe and large, with nothing protruding out to cut him.  I think he might just be klutzy, and frankly, I have no idea how, in his racing days, he managed to burst from the starting gates without tripping or banging his head. 

I have a big tube of ointment and every night Nox quietly lowers his head so I can care for the scrapes.  He really is a sweet, lovable horse and he usually tries very hard to be good.  I'm so glad that he's mine - goofy and clumsy as he is.

Nox's newest scrape, above the eye.

       

A warm day

Today was a warm, sunny, 70 degree day - a welcome relief from the 50 degree weather we've had lately.  I was restless at work - impatiently tapping at my keyboard and glancing out the window across the hall every few minutes.  I couldn't wait to get to the barn.  I was hoping the flooded outdoor ring would be dry enough to let Nox run around and enjoy the nice weather, too.  The past few weeks have been so rainy and dreary.

I finally pulled in to the stable parking lot and happily left my barn coat in the car.  My happiness was tempered as I came around the corner and saw my poor horse.  Nox was standing in the middle of his stall, sweating and looking miserable. 

Nox has grown a magnificent winter coat.  His summer coat was so sleek and thin that I worried he'd be cold in this North Country winter weather.  It turns out that I had nothing to worry about.  He is as fluffy and fuzzy as I could have hoped, and I love burying my face in his plush, soft, velvety neck.

That thick coat was torture today.  I turned Nox out in the indoor ring, since the outdoor ring was still flooded and I wanted to keep him out of the sun.  He ran around as usual, bucking, kicking, and rearing, and then rolled in his favorite spot.  All that exertion made him sweat even more.  I went into the ring to play our ground manner games and by the time we finished, he was a hairy, sweaty, dirty mess.

I walked him around and let him graze outside in the breeze.  I wanted to spray him off with the hose, but it's going to be in the 50's tonight and I was afraid that his thick coat wouldn't dry completely and he'd be chilled.  Instead, once he was cool and the sweat had dried, I curried and brushed him until every sweat mark was gone.  He really enjoyed the curry comb and I think all that hair must get itchy when he sweats.

Tomorrow will be another 70 degree day, but after that we drop back into the low 50's again.  For Nox's sake, and the other fuzzy horses in the barn, I'm looking forward to the cooler weather.               

Birthday wishes

I adopted Nox in June, and so he isn't actually my birthday present.  But honestly, every day that I walk inside the barn and see this beautiful horse looking expectantly for me and nickering softly when he sees me, I feel like it's my birthday and Christmas and Easter and Valentine's Day.

Tonight, Best Husband Ever told me to make a wish before blowing out my candles, and I said, "But all of my wishes have come true."  This is the first year since I was five years old that I did not have to wish for a horse on my birthday. 

Thankfully, it turns out that telling people what you wished for doesn't doom that wish from coming true - I told everyone who would listen about my horse wishes! 

So, I can safely tell you what I wished for this year: 

World Peace.

It took about thirty years to get the horse.  Hopefully, the peace will come sooner.



Best...

Present...

Ever!

Because I'm the human and you're the horse, that's why!

I'm at the barn six evenings a week - the seventh barn-free day is dubbed "husband day", since it always coincides with one of Best Husband Ever's days off.  When I tell people this, they look at me oddly - no doubt thinking this isn't a fair allocation of time and imagining my hungry husband abandoned and neglected at home.  Happily, this isn't the case - he works in the evenings and is very supportive of my horse addiction.

The day after my day off from the barn is almost always a challenge.  Nox is a very dominant horse and he likes to think he's in charge.  I often have to remind him otherwise.  It's worse when I've been gone for more than 24 hours - he takes my absence as a sign that I have abdicated my throne and he is eager to take my place. 

Today was one of those days.  I turned Nox out in the indoor ring and he seemed fine, so I tacked him up to ride.  As soon as I settled in the saddle, he was full of "piss and vinegar", as Erin would say.  Every corner of the ring had something to spook at and he tossed his head, danced around, and just generally misbehaved.  This was my fault, of course.  I should have seen past his calm facade and done some ground work before hopping on to ride. 

I've learned from experience that there is little use trying to fight with him to be good, especially if he is also acting spooky, but I can't dismount until he has done something well enough to end on a "good note".  Several laps around the ring of dancing, spooking, and tossing, and he finally walked a lap nicely - but I could sense the vinegar bubbling inside him and I knew I couldn't get another calm moment from him under saddle. 

I slipped off his back, untacked him right there in the ring, and then we played the ground manner "games" that I use to assert my leadership.  Nox responds well to these games and after a few minutes of tantrums and resistance, he assumed his subordinate place in our herd of two.  I led him around the ring on the lead rope for another few minutes and he followed sweetly and respectfully.  I put him back in his stall, groomed him and petted him, and called it a night. 

Tomorrow will be a better riding day.  Next week, we'll do it all again.    

Nox, giving me the "you're not the boss of me" look.

          

    

The day his imagination got away from him...

It came as no surprise that Nox liked to graze on the fresh grass outside, but I was amused by his enthusiasm for it.  The first few times I turned him out in the outdoor ring, he just stood and looked around at the grass growing along the edges and in the corners, like he was waiting for my permission.  I shooed him off and he attacked the grass with gusto, grazing on it for as long as I'd let him.

One day, Nox was stretching his nose through the fence boards out to the very tall grass growing in the nearby ditch.  I watched him tear at the grass and weeds, greedily taking big mouthfuls at a time.  He bit off a very large clump and pulled his head back through the fence to chew it.  Two or three very long blades of grass waved behind his head as he chewed, and he paused, turning his head suspiciously.  The grass waved and bobbed behind him as he moved and he started nervously walking away, still chewing.  The grass followed him, brushing his neck and popping up behind him.  Suddenly, Nox broke out running and bucking, frightened by the scary things that he thought were trying to attack him!   

He looked around for me, the grass still in his mouth and the long pieces flying.  I walked out into the ring and he stopped, eyes wide and nostrils flared.  I grabbed the long pieces and pulled them out of his mouth, admonishing him for being silly and greedy.  Nox stood there and seemed to chew the rest of his mouthful thoughtfully, and then calmly went back to grazing in the corner, the crisis over.

Have I mentioned how much I love him?              

Nox grazing in the sunshine.

 

Pole Walkin'

Right from the start, during that first week of "experiments", I discovered that Nox was afraid of jump poles.  He was afraid of the poles even when they were lying on the ground - wouldn't go near them.  I found this more than a little ironic, since one of the reasons I picked Nox was because his long legs and athletic ability would make him a very good jumper.  I was hoping to someday soar over those same poles when they were suspended in the air!

 

A few people gave me their opinions and advice: lead him to the pole on the ground and make him walk over it, smack his butt, don't let him get away with avoiding the pole, keep fighting until he does it.  I smiled, listened, and nodded my head.  In the past, the horse would have been theirs and I would have to do it their way.  In the past, I would have silently thought about all the methods that I would like to try, if the horse was mine.

 

Well, now the horse IS mine.

 

Since I was in no hurry to get Nox over the poles (we are a long way away from doing any jumping), I tried a more laid back approach.  I started by turning Nox out in the indoor ring with several poles lying on the ground randomly around the ring.   He spent the first week avoiding them, running around like he was drunk, weaving erratically, and snorting loudly at the strange white things littered around his play area.  I'd go in and move the poles, but I never asked him to go near them.

 

After a while, I placed the poles in the area he liked to hang out most - in front of the open window that looked out toward the pastures.  Nox was frustrated, because to hang his head out the window he had to get close to the poles.  I watched with amusement as he stretched his neck as far as he could to glimpse green grass and blue sky, without moving his feet near the dreaded pole.   He'd inch forward, slowly, worried that the pole might suddenly jump up and bite him.

 

One day, I thought we had a break-through.  Nox walked over to the pole in front of the window and put his nose down to smell it.   He licked the pole, and then chewed on it a little.  He raised his head and moved one front leg forward, as if he was going to walk over the pole.  I silently cheered him on, thinking "this is it!".  He took that hoof and tentatively kicked the pole once.  He kicked it again.   When he realized the pole was not going to bite him, and in fact, would move when he kicked it, he became very brave.  He spent the next few minutes kicking the pole out of his way until it was far enough that he could triumphantly hang his head out the window.  All I could do was laugh.

 

Over the next few weeks, I continued to put poles all over the ring, even while riding him, and thought perhaps Nox wouldn't be a great jumper after all.  Then one day, all on his own, he walked over a pole - like it was no big deal.  I celebrated and cheered and he watched me jump up and down like he thought I was crazy.

 

My celebration was short-lived, however, because he refused to walk over the poles when I led him or rode him.  Since his fear of the pole was gone, I knew he was refusing out of stubbornness.  A different problem needs a different solution, so I gave him two choices.  He could walk over the pole with me and we would move on and do something else more fun.  He could refuse, and we would walk in small circles around the pole, nine or ten fast laps, before trying again.  I had to repeat this many times until he finally realized that it would be far less work and hassle if he just walked over the pole.  In no time, Best Husband Ever and I could lead Nox over poles like he'd been doing it for years.  A few days later, Nox walked over the poles while I was riding him.  He was calm and confident.  I never had to force him or make it a fight where one of us had to lose.

 

Admittedly, this method took months to accomplish what a few hours of fighting could have done, but I'm in no hurry.  I feel like we solved this problem together; building trust and learning to communicate along the way.

 

We've arrived at the same happy place - on the other side of the pole.

 

Success!