Wednesday, December 07, 2005, 18:50
Showdown
Isabelle and I had a showdown this morning. Ever since she developed that knot on the back of her hock and I started giving her Bute paste Saturday evening to help for the swelling, she has become increasingly grumpy about the whole thing. She does not want me to grab her halter, and she fights and tries to pull away when I put the tube up to her mouth.
I am certain the Bute does not taste very good. But I can't help that. She needs the medicine to help her leg get better.
This morning, after our usual go-around with the Bute paste (I did manage to get it into her, thank goodness), and after I had given both her and Kajun their grain, had put out hay for both of them, had carried warm water to the barn for Kajun and was taking warm water out to Isabelle's pasture, that's when the showdown occurred.
Just as I finished tying up her bucket (it's a good idea to tie a horse's water pail to something because they have a tendency to play with the buckets and spill their water), she finished her grain and came over to her shelter to start eating her hay. I reached out to her because I was going to pet her.
Isabelle took one look at me and turned away. I went after her. She started walking faster. I walked a little faster. The next thing I knew, she was running away from me.
"Fine," I said, "if that's the way you want it."
I kept walking toward Isabelle, she kept running, and pretty soon, she was tearing around her pasture at top speed.
Whenever she started to slow down, I walked toward her again.
She would take one look at me -- and off she'd go.
"I can keep this up for as long as you can," I said.
After 10 minutes, Isabelle began licking her lips and chewing. This is a horse's way of saying, "I don't like this. I want to come back to the herd."
I walked toward her, she took off again.
A little while later she was licking her lips, chewing, and putting her nose to the ground. This is a horse's way of saying, "I really don't like this. May I please come back to th herd? I would like something to eat now."
When Isabelle stopped and turned toward me, I turned my back to her. This was my way of saying, "I am not going to chase you anymore. Come back to the herd."
Isabelle took a few steps toward my back. I circled around to stand in front of her, or rather, next to her. At this point, she finally let me grab her halter. I petted her for a little while, and she let me stand there with my arm over her nose. She kept her head tucked into my side and didn't try to pull away.
I have read books on this technique and have watched videotapes of it. It's called "join-up" and is based on the horse herd leader's way of establishing who is the herd leader. In a herd situation, unruly youngsters are chased off by the herd leader and are not allowed to be part of the herd until they learn some manners.
After a while, after I had taken the dogs for a short walk and had returned to Isabelle's pasture to pick up manure and throw it on the pile on the other side of the fence, I walked up to her. She stood there quietly and didn't try to pull away. She also let me put my arm over her nose again.
I suppose I will have to go through this procedure quite a few times before Isabelle grows up into a mature horse that we are riding regularly. But that's okay. At least I've got a start on it now. If I'd had my druthers, I would have chosen a day when it was warmer than a mere 10 degrees, but on the other hand, it's like they say -- "no time like the present."
Here are some other stories and articles about times when I was not quite so successful with animals!
| Related Animal Stories & Articles | |
| • Too Good to be True | • Midnight Visitors |
| • The Lion Tamer | • The One That Got Away |
Tuesday, December 06, 2005, 22:26
All Spruced Up
After 10 years, the the little spruce tree in our backyard is finally big enough for Christmas lights!
Randy went out Sunday afternoon and put lights on the tree. He also set up the lighted deer that we got from his sister and her husband last year for Christmas to a lovely display.
The little spruce tree holds special meaning for me. We found it during the summer 10 years ago -- on my birthday -- when we had gone fishing at the Norton Slough. When I was a little girl growing up on our dairy farm, my dad and I would go fishing at the Norton Slough summer evenings after milking (when we weren't baling hay, that is). The Norton Slough is about a mile away. It is a backwater of the Hay River.
The spruce tree, which was only about five inches high then, was growing in the bank at the Slough. I could tell by looking at it that the tree would not last long there. In a year or two, the sandy bank would probably give way, and then the tree would slide down into the water and that would be the end of it.
So, Randy grabbed hold of the little tree and yanked it out by the roots.
I was certain, after such rough treatment, that the little tree would never survive. After all, once Randy had pulled it out we still had to load the canoe and drive home. By the time we arrived at our place, the tiny tree had been exposed to the air for about a half an hour.
As soon as we got home, we put it in water, dug a hole and planted it. The sidehill of our yard where we planted the tree is sand and sandstone.
We watered the little spruce tree diligently that fall, and during the following summers, we kept watering the tree, and much to my surprise, the little thing kept right on growing.
And now it is finally big enough to have Christmas lights.
I am quite enchanted with the little tree. The strings of twinkly bulbs light up that whole side of the yard, and with the big pine trees behind it, which you can't really see in the pictures, it makes a lovely little display that is plainly visible from the road.
Even though the temperature was hovering right around zero Monday night after Randy got home from work, we decided we would go for a walk, by moonlight, so we could see our little Christmas tree.
It's kind of funny, isn't it, how one small thing like that can make a person feel so good inside.
LeAnn R. Ralph
