She Came!

Abby was out in the pasture with seven other horses this afternoon, and we'd just had a good rain. Needless to say, the pasture was muddy. Tim texted me to let me know he'd put her out with everyone, and then cautioned me to be careful of the mud and to not get knocked over by the herd. ("Trouble's a brat," he warned about his big gelding.)

Five of the horses (along with Trouble) were in the west section of the field behind the second barn while Abby and two buddies were grazing in the south wing of the pasture. I knew I could handle three horses without too much difficulty, so I opened the gate, stepped into the field and called to her.

Abby did not seem to hear me at first. She continued grazing, so I called to her again and whistled. She lifted her head, turned and looked at me, and then went back to grazing. I decided I would walk out to see her, when  suddenly she put her head up again, looked at me, and then broke into a brisk trot, making a beeline over to see me.

She slid to a stop and then put her head down and stretched her nose out to me. I stroked her neck and offered her a treat from my pocket. I spoke gently to her for a few minutes, and then she stepped aside, her knees buckled, and down she went for a roll in the fresh mud. (There went my plans to bring her into the barn and groom her!)

Abby heaved herself back up to her feet, gave herself a good shake, squealed, and cantered off to where Trouble and the others were.

I went back up to the barn, marveling at how much Abby seeks out human attention. I could understand it if she kept frisking me for treats and that that was why she wanted to be with me, but she does not expect them. She simply seems to like to be with her people.

And that is okay with me!

Leslie's New Pony

This is Cocoa, the pony Leslie adopted when I adopted Abby. He, too, was part of the Indianapolis 19 (as they are called) that were rescued last August.

Cocoa is 25 and looks just like Pokey did, although he is much smaller. He's probably a Shetland pony, possibly mixed with goat! Well, not really, but he had a long beard when we first met him and still is very, very shaggy even though Indiana Horse Rescue spiffed him up for Les. (We were so sad that they trimmed his beard - hopefully it will grow again.) You can see the fuzzy hair standing up on his backside above his tail in this picture. I told Leslie she should gel that into a mohawk!

Cocoa is adjusting well to life on Leslie's farm with Beau and Skippy.

Later that Afternoon...

After my long nap yesterday afternoon, I went back out to the barn to check on Abby and sign boarding papers with Tim. Tim  suggested we take her into the arena and see what she could do. I could tell he really wanted to work with her, and I was fine with that - he's a very knowledgeable horseman and I figured that, not only would Abby learn something, I might, too!

Plus, it takes time to get to know a new horse's quirks and personality. Compound that with the fact that Abby is a rescue who has been abused and mistreated, I have no idea what might trigger some fearful behavior in her. So I was glad to let Tim play with her and see what she could (or might) do.

So into the arena we went.

Because the footing in the arena is deep and I have had a hip and two knees replaced, I have some  trouble moving around in it. I was concerned that, if Abby got excited or we found a trigger or flashpoint, I might not be able to get out of the way. I stepped back and assisted Tim, grabbing gear from the tack room and snapping photos when I could.

It became apparent very quickly that Abby knew how to longe. She stopped pretty quickly when Tim said, "Ho!" and was very quiet and calm. Yes!!

Tim looked at me and said, "What would you think if we sacked her out? I think this mare has more experience than she's been given credit for." (I did, too.) Sacking out is a part of the training process where you take the saddle blanket and put it on a horse's back, flap it around, brush it against the animal, etc. to accustom them to the idea of a saddle coming their way.

 Abby clearly had no problems with this, even when Tim whipped that saddle blanket under her belly! He looked at me and I looked at him with big smiles. Another YES!!

"Want to try a saddle on her?" he asked. YOU BET. My saddles are still at home in the garage, so I went into the tack room and grabbed a saddle I thought would fit her.

 Here Tim is tightening the cinch on her.

 Doesn't look like a bucking bronc, does she?? While she sidestepped a bit, it was obvious she'd been saddled. And, considering she had been at the rescue place for 8 1/2 months with no one working her, I was amazed that all she did was sidestep!

Tim led her to the center of the arena for some longing under saddle and to see what she would do. She acted as though this was all very, very familiar.

 Tim longed her for a while again, saddle on her back, and then told her to stop. Just look at that good girl!!

 No snorting, no playful bucking or kicking, and enjoying human contact.

He tested her to see if she would accept having her head worked with. You can handle her ears (sometimes a trigger in the tamest of horses) and she gives her head easily.

Finally, Tim, who will trim her hooves for me, picked up all her feet, stretching them forward, and then flexing the joints. Clearly she has no sore joints or issues with having her feet handled.

While watching all this play out, and feeling my excitement grow, I began to realize that I may have gotten a huge bargain in purchasing this little mare.

Tim confirmed what I had been thinking privately when he told me later that he felt I had gotten a really good deal, a jewel of a horse. She has great conformation, a lovely personality, and is very people oriented. (She was following Tim around, off lead, like a puppy, and even came to me when I called her!) "She is certainly not what I expected when you told me you were getting a rescue horse," Tim declared. "I think you really have something here. She's quick, too; bet she'd be a good gaming horse, she's got nice conformation, is sound, and is really, really a nice horse."

We both feel she is a quality mare who was overlooked for adoption because the rescue place could not verify if she had ever been ridden.

As I said my prayers last night, in gratitude for such a monumental day (new grandbaby and new horse all at once!) I got the distinct impression of "fondness" from the Lord. I felt like He was smiling down at me, very Paternally, and had sent this little mare into my life even though I had had zero plans to get a horse. It felt like He was saying, "Just wait until you see what I have in store for you" coupled with a big wave of love.

I am so grateful and feel very, very blessed.

Home!

Yesterday morning I picked Leslie up at 6:15 just as the sun was coming up, and we headed down to Frankfort to sign the papers on our two new horses. Cocoa hopped right into the trailer, but Abby needed a little persuading to join him.

Travis Horton, a friend from Church, hauled for us, and took us to Horizon Vet in Delphi for a vet check (both horse and pony passed; we learned Abby throws her head when she does not like something - she bent a needle doing so) and then dropped Cocoa off at Leslie's and Abby off at her new home, Tim Gibb's ranch in West Lafayette.

 Abby was quite calm; no milling around while on the lead rope, no mad dash for freedom when I turned her loose. She just walked off, looked at her surroundings, and then began grazing.

I admit I got  bit teary as I looked at her. She is SO like Amy.

Tim Gibb's mammoth Quarter Horse, Trouble, was the first of his herd that we introduced to Abby. Trouble was anxious to get to know her but she made it very clear that he had to be friends on HER terms and not his. She has a gorgeous, floaty trot.

Travis, Tim, and I hung out with Abby and Trouble for about a half hour to make sure things were good, but truly, Abby and Trouble were doing fine and did not need monitoring.

I breezed home on cloud nine, feeling very humbled at the blessing of having a horse in my life again. And then I took a shower and napped for a couple hours. Needless to say, the previous night I did not sleep much (well, it WAS sort of like Christmas Eve!) and ended up taking a two hour nap!

Double bonus of the day? As we were hauling the horses, I got a text from Kyle. Ashley was in labor! At 8:32 AM, Corinne joined that family weighing 9 lbs. 14 oz. and  21 1/2 inches long.

New grandbaby, new horse... what a wonderful day it was!

Abby's Rescue Page

Sassy is a 12 year old mare that stands about 14.2 hands. She leads, picks up her feet and stands for the farrier. She is very green and has very little saddle time. She was shown in 4-H too...seen a picture of her last night and she was shown in halter. I haven't put her on FB yet. Jamie told me when I was putting the new ones up a few weeks ago to not list her yet because of her hooves. She was the one that had a TERRIBLE flare. She was trimmed and did just fine. She seems very sound. If you are interested in adopting this horse or another horse from Indiana Horse Rescue, please visit our website www.indianahorserescue.com from more information on the adoption process!

It's Not Just Me!

When I was seventeen, I got the bright idea of seeing if I could get Pokey, our large cob pony, up the porch steps and into the house. He was in an small, fenced enclosure by the porch; since it was difficult to mow, we would just bring him up from the pasture, put him in there and let him graze it down.

He was there, no one was home, and so... up the stairs he went and through the door into the back foyer! And then I heard the crunch of gravel as my mother came home and caught me with Pokey half in/half out of the house. Needless to say, she was NOT happy.

Ask me then why I did it, and I would respond, "I don't know." Ask me now, and you get the same response. I have no clue!! (It does help me in the classroom when a student gives me a similar response after I have asked them why they did something. And you know, I get it! I understand that sometimes you do things and don't know why!)

The story of me bringing Pokey into the house is a favorite one of my kids and they like to tease me good naturedly about it.

Saturday I learned that I am not alone in the impulse to bring a horse into a home:

That's Jamie at the Indiana Horse Rescue with Louise. I was sitting with Melanie discussing possibly adopting Sassy/Abby, and in came Jamie to work with Louise trotting right alongside!

Hey, kids, it's not just me!!

Neglect and Abuse

This is the news article from Fox 59 about how Sassy and her friends came into the care of Indiana Horse Rescue. There was also a film clip but I could not upload it. But, I could pull off this picture of one of Sassy's barn mates:

Horrible, heart wrenching, infuriating.... How can people do this to animals??

Horse rescue group not confident rescued horses will survive

A horse rescue group caring for 18 horses removed from an Indianapolis home on the south side is trying to rehabilitate all of the horses, but the rehabilitation is proving difficult.

By Ann Keil

Fox59

8:01 a.m. EDT, August 9, 2011

Indianapolis— A horse rescue group caring for 18 horses removed from an Indianapolis home on the southside is trying to rehabilitate all of the horses, but the rehabilitation is proving difficult. Nineteen horses, two dogs and a cat were removed from the home last Wednesday.

Volunteers with the group, Indiana Horse Rescue, said the neglect was not short-term. They claim several of the horses are severly underweight.

"It's an obvious sign of neglect," said Melanie Masunas, assitant manager of a Frankfort horse farm managed by Indiana Horse Rescue.

Officials with Indianapolis Care and Control also claim the animals were being neglected.

All but four of the healthier horses were taken to a 27-acre farm in Frankfort operated by Indiana Horse Rescue. The staff is currently preparing to haul the four horses being cared for by animal control to their farm.

On Friday, the homeowner would only explain himself on camera if his face was not shown. He could not explain why some of the horses were underweight. He also said he and his wife were not neglecting the horses or the other animals.

Still, the staff at Indiana Horse Rescue has said some of the horses are fighting for their lives, mostly because they are severely underweight.

Masunas also said the majority of the horses have overgrown hooves. One horse was already euthanized because of a painful hoof condition.

"Her hooves were twisted. It has been neglect, not just for a week, it was a long time," Masunas said.

Animal control officials said there was little water on the homeowner's property, and some stalls had three to four feet of feces inside. They took pictures that they plan to use in court.

Also a topic of concern, one horse is blind and, according to animal control officials, was not living in a safe environment. 

"I don't know how you shut yourself off to that and convince yourself you're doing right," said Masunas.

There are some healthier horses in the bunch that will be available for adoption after the homeowner appears in court on Tuesday, but the current focus for the non-profit is rehabilitating the horses, which does not come cheap.

"The cost of grain, the cost of hay, and the cost of vet care. It adds up," said Masunas.

Those interested in making a monetary donation, hay or other resources including volunteer hours are encouraged to contact Indiana Horse Rescue online. 

Uncanny Resemblance!

My sister Leslie invited me to go to the Indiana Horse Rescue in Frankfort and look at some horses with her. She lost her Standardbred, Loomis, last winter, and her gelding, Beau, has some health issues and may need to be put down. That would leave Skippy alone, and Skippy is blind and needs a pasture mate.

So, she picked me up early this morning and we headed out into the hinterlands of central Indiana. The rescue place had at least one Standardbred available, and Leslie wanted to take a look at her. But when we walked out in the pasture to look at the mares, my heart stopped. This is what I saw:

 This mare is the spitting image of my first horse, Amy. Amy has always been my favorite of all the horses I've owned, and we had a very close bond. In fact, she got so attached to me, she would not let anyone else ride her, and actually backed through a barn door (it was closed and so she splintered it) when Leslie got on her.

One of my favorite memories of Amy is of an early summer morning with the sun rising over the Wabash. Amy was lying down out in the pasture. She allowed me to stretch out with her, propping myself up against her warm body, and we lay in the grass, enjoying the beautiful start to the day.

 I walked all around this mare, and the resemblance to my beloved Amy was uncanny.

 The blaze is a bit wider than Amy's, but the strawberry roan coloring, the blonde/silver mane and tail, the small anklet socks... this horse could be Amy's twin.

 Leslie really wants me to get her and keep her at her farm. Truth be told, I could afford to buy her and to keep her. But time is a real factor plus I don't ride any more. Getting this gal would be more to have her as a pet than anything else.

Still.... I am tempted. She was rescued last year from a man in Indianapolis who had twenty horses on two acres, and they were underfed and doing poorly. Abby (as I call her; although I keep thinking "Amy!!") is twelve and has never been ridden, but she was used as a halter horse for 4-H. When brought to the rescue center, her front hoof was so overgrown and in need of trimming, it had curved under and to the side. They're still working on correcting it back to a normal hoof. But, she gets around really well and gallops around freely.

I cannot get this little mare out of my mind. I have been teary and emotional since I saw her. Should I do it? Should I get her and give her the good home she deserves?  I am certainly thinking about it.

Stay tuned!

Puppy Eyes and Horsey Hips!

Over spring break, I went to look at horses with my sister, Leslie. Her Standardbred, Loomis, had recently had to be euthanized, and she was looking for a replacement. The Indiana Horse Rescue in Frankfort had a Standardbred listed, so we went down. I was NOT looking to become a horse owner.

Long story short, there was an Appaloosa mare there named Sassy who is the spitting image of my beloved mare, Amy. In fact, I burst into tears when I saw her as the resemblance was so uncanny. She has been on my mind ever since, and I have been exploring options as I think about adopting her.

Today I went down to see her again. I wanted to see if she was gentle and good on the ground, if I could pick up her feet, tweak her ears, and do other things that show a horse is gentle and sane.

She was all that. And more.

I asked the facility manager to let me go out in the pasture and get her to see if she would be hard to catch.

She wasn't. She came right over and stood quietly while I haltered her. (I fumbled a bit - after all, it's been twenty years!)

She led quietly to the barn despite the fact that her pasture mates were following her and even trying to nip her out of the way so they could get some attention from me. No problem.

No problem walking through the barn, either, even with scary objects in the aisles and the occasional stalled horse who nickered at her and even ran against the stall door, trying to get to her. Not an ear twitch.

We put her in the round pen to see if she could longe (no) or how she would react. I was very impressed that she was not trying to get back to her pasture mates, although they were a bit agitated, nickering and calling to her. She answered once, but she never seemed bothered to be away from the herd. That's a very good sign.

Melanie had to go into the office for a phone call, and left me alone in the round pen with Sassy. I unclipped the longe line and turned her loose to see what she would do. And a very interesting thing happened.

Sassy went over to the bars of the pen and began nibbling some grass.

But then she put her head up, walked over to me for a few moments, and then past me to another spot to graze. I decided to move to another spot in the pen and see what happened. After a few bites, she put her head up and walked over. I patted her, and then she went back to the rail to eat. I began moving around the pen to see how she would react, and every single time, she would come over for a moment, no matter where it was I had moved, and then return to eating.

This, of course, is the horsey equivalent of PUPPY EYES.

But then she did something that really surprised me. Melanie was coming out of the office and walking back to the round pen. I walked over to the fence, rested my arms on the rail, and was talking to Melanie as she approached. Sassy came up behind me, then turned sideways so she was perpendicular to me and stood still, leaning her hip against my backside. And she stood there, just content to have some body contact with me!

Oh, no!! HORSEY HIPS!! Combine that with the puppy eyes equivalent, and I was sinking fast!

Interestingly enough, Sassy did not go to greet Melanie. In fact, she paid no attention to her, instead facing away from Melanie and just leaning her hip into my backside. I have NEVER had a horse do that, and my heart melted.

So, what am I going to do now? I don't know for sure. I have checked out two possible places to keep her, and I did fill out the adoption papers. Craig has given his blessing, and I told Melanie I would let her know by Tuesday. I will think and pray. Hard.

But, I did stop at a farm supply store on the way home and purchase a halter, lead rope, two brushes, and some tack cleaner....

In the Tack Trunk!

As I contemplate possibly getting a horse again, I thought I ought to see just what I have left from past horse ownerships, just in case I do take the plunge. So, Saturday I pulled out my tack trunk from its place in the garage, opened it, and was whisked back through time.

The sight that met my eyes as I lifted the lid:

All my western and english things, plus Cee's show halter and a bag of ribbons I'd won.

 Indy's stall nameplate, a western bridle, an english girth, and some grooming tools.

 My english bridle with the egg butt snaffle bit.

 A western show blanket and my cowgirl hat.

 The bridle (or pieces of what is left) of Oh Boy's bridle. (Oh Boy was a circus pony that my grandfather bought on a whim for my dad over 70 years ago.)

 A close up of a decorative browband piece on Oh Boy's bridle.

I was actually surprised at what I found was in there as well as what wasn't there. (Hoof pick? Where's my hoof pick??) But, I have a good start.... IF I choose to get a horse.

Cee Hunt

Cee Hunt, called Cee around the barn, was my first and only show horse. He was a seal brown registered Quarter Horse, and was owned by Scott MacDonald. Scott used to clean up on him at horse shows, winning blue ribbon after blue ribbon. He also won championships in three states and Scott had a beautiful trophy buckle he'd won with Cee.

I wanted to show, but Amy really was not a show horse. She also was tough to load into a trailer. So, I saved my money, and with help from my parents financially, went looking for a horse to show. I rejected several, and then heard Scott was selling Cee. Dad and I went to take a look.

Cee was a dream to ride. He was so well trained, and very comfortable to sit on. We purchased him for $1200 in 1973, and I still remember Scott's face after delivering Cee to our home. He fondly tugged on Cee's tail with both hands, looked at the ground, and then up at me and cracked a wan smile. It was obvious Scott loved that horse and was having a hard time parting with him.

I showed Cee in local shows and at the 4-H fair and did quite well with him. But I also used him for pleasure riding. Scott had told me that Cee loved water, and that he used to jump Cee bareback off the banks of creeks and into the water. He was right; Cee was a water baby!!

This is  a picture of me swimming with Cee in Burnett Creek behind the battle field in Battle Ground. There's a trail behind the battle field and I rode down it, stripped Cee of his saddle, and into the water we went! Cee liked to swirl his tail in circles like a propeller when he was playing in the water, and it was fun to get sprayed. I have never seen a horse since who loved swimming like Cee did.

Another time I took an unanticipated swim with Cee. Purdue's rowing crew practiced on the Wabash every evening in the fall. Leslie and I would "accidentally" just happen to be riding along the river when they went by - that way we could look at the guys and giggle. This particular day I was riding bareback and wearing my bell bottom jeans - the style in the 1970s.

Completely forgetting Cee's deep love of water, and not even having swimming on my mind because it was a cool, crisp fall day, I was riding him along an exposed sandbar and doing a little wading into the river - just up to Cee's knees and hocks. But that was all the incentive that horse needed - I felt a lurch, and Cee had dropped to his knees, nearly pitching me over his head!  Then there was another lurch, and his backside was down and into the river. Cee began to roll, forcing me to step off and away from him.

He enjoyed a good roll in the chilly water, then stood up and shook the water off his coat with enthusiasm. He looked at me as though he were saying, "Ahhh!! That felt good, didn't it?" I hadn't enjoyed my impromptu bath nearly as much as my horse had, and I was terribly aware that Purdue's rowing crew had witnessed the whole thing!

Trying to look nonchalant while my cheeks were burning with embarrassment, I struggled to remount Cee. I was quite agile back then, and could easily hop onto a horse's back without a saddle or mounting block. But to my embarrassment, my water-logged jeans were so heavy, I could not jump! The bell bottom aspect of the jeans added to the weight as they could hold a LOT of water. I tried a couple of times to remount while Cee looked at me in exasperation and as though to say, "What is your problem? You never have this much trouble getting on me!"

To my great humiliation, I had to lead Cee out of the river and onto the beach. A tree had recently fallen, and I was able to lead Cee alongside its trunk, scramble up onto it, and then step over and onto Cee. He ambled off as though nothing untoward had happened, but it was a VERY long time before I "just happened" to be riding along the Wabash when Purdue's rowing crew was out!

Like Amy and Pokey, Cee had come to his lifelong home. A few years after I was married, and knowing how much my sister, Leslie, loved that horse, I gave him to her for Christmas one year. It was a match made in heaven; she loved him, and I think Cee was as devoted to her as Amy was to me.

Pokey

Pokey was actually the fourth horse we added to our family herd. (I will write about Nick and Flame another time.) My parents wanted something for my sister, Leslie, to ride, and we bought Pokey, an aged silver dapple cob to fulfill that need. (Amy became very partial to me and did not like other people riding her. In fact, one day Leslie tried to mount her and she backed up and through the barn door, splintering it!)

Pokey had been owned by an elderly man who had done countless things with him - riding, driving in parades, etc. Pokey could park out like a show pony and even count/shake hands! We discovered his trick-side by accident. I have often wondered what else he could do that we never discovered.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Amy and Pokey. This is from 1974 or 1975 when we were boarding them at Mahlkes' farm on 600 east of Harrison High School. (The farm is no longer there - it's been turned into Coyote Crossing Golf Course.) I think they look the picture of health - shiny coats, well fed, and interested in a visit with their human friends.

Pokey could also be a stinker! One day I was holding him while the farrier was trimming his feet. I happened to have a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup in my back pocket. As I chatted to the farrier, I inadvertently turned my back to Pokey. Smelling the candy, he took a big CHOMP on my pocket! Unfortunately he got some of me, too! OOoooOOOO!! I get chills just remembering it! It HURT. And, to add insult to injury, there was no way I was going to eat candy with horse teeth marks in it!

Pokey would eat just about anything. He could also drink pop out of a can. If we happened to have some with us, he would come over, stretch his neck out, and then stick his lower lip waaaaaaay out to the side, forming a cup. We'd hold the can up and he'd slurp that soda right up. (Of course, then you had to decide if you really wanted to finish your drink after the can had had pony lips on it!)

Leslie kept Pokey until his death. He got older and slowed down quite a bit, but she gave him great care. Like Amy and me, he found his lifelong home with her. I think he died when he was 34 or 35 of a heart attack, dropping in his tracks.

Such a wonderful old guy he was, and perfect for our family herd.

A Girl's Dream Comes True

Or, how it all began. (Er, the live horse aspect. For the model horse, it goes back to Christmas, 1963.) But for real horses, February 28, 1970.

Sweet Amy and me.

Pretty little mare, isn't she?! She was my very first horse, and she was my dream come true on the day I turned twelve and a half.

My mother was in the hospital, and my dad asked me if I wanted to go look at horses. Are you kidding? No question about that! I had been pestering my parents for a horse since I was six years old, even claiming that our back yard was big enough for a horse. Then, when I was in seventh grade, my parents bought their home at 3030 North River Road, West Lafayette, Indiana because our family had outgrown our home at 169 Prophet Drive and because this new home on the river had room for horses. We moved in over Christmas break, in January, 1970. I just hadn't realized that we would go horse hunting so soon after moving in!

We went out to a place on 25 near Shadeland, and I still remember trying Amy, a five year old strawberry roan snowflake Appaloosa mare with a blonde and silver mane and tail. Though she was young, she had already had had a foal (who was three, so Amy was a very young mama.) I knew something about horses and had taken riding lessons, but I still had a lot to learn. After I dismounted and put Amy back in her stall, my Dad asked, "So, do you want her?"

I was incredulous - my dream come true! I looked back and looked at Amy - she had her head up and was watching me. We looked at each other solemnly for a few moments, and then I turned to my father and cried, "Yes!"

Of course, we had to call my mother and tell her. I remember we stopped at Mary Lou Donuts (still in business now, forty two years later) and called her from a pay phone in their parking lot. I don't think she was too happy; understandable since she had just had surgery and was in the hospital. But the deal was done, and after a week of building fence, Amy arrived and was mine.

I still remember that feeling of walking on air. I had waited six years for my own horse (which seemed like an eternity at the time) and now I had her.

Amy proved to be my "horse of a lifetime," the one I loved the most and could never sell. She was mine until she died in 1993.

And that is how my lifelong involvement with horses began.