Keeping Gailey in my Barn

It's been seven years since I've kept my horse at home. At the beginning of September, I brought her home. My barn still isn't exactly horse ready, but I'm working on it. While in some ways, it's a chore to care for a horse at home, in others it's a pleasure. Truly, I am enjoying my time with Gailey. I'm still feeling a little guilty that we don't have another horse on the property to keep her company, but I'm going to cross that bridge later. Right now, 1 horse, 2 dogs, and a spoiled cat are all I can handle.

My Little Barn

So I'm being indoctrinated into the trials and pleasures of keeping my horse at home. My first eye-opener happened when I purchased hay and grain for the first time in 7 years. Eight bales of hay and one bag of grain cost me around $200. That was a shocker. Considering how much hay this mare goes through in a month, it might prove cheaper to board her.

Then comes the chore of unloading the hay and stacking it in my barn. Sigh... I'm not as young as I once was--neither is my husband. Now I'm back in the mode of finding a non-rainy day to haul hay every few weeks and making sure I don't run out of grain.

When I last kept Gailey at home, she kept her stall clean, always going outside to her paddock to use the horsey facilities. After 7 years in a stall, she now thinks her stall in the bathroom so I'm constantly cleaning the stall, and she's constantly messing it up. I keep hoping her old habits will come back. She used to lay down in her stall at night, perhaps when she starts doing that again, she'll want it cleaner.

I did saddle her up one day and found her to be serviceably sound, so I'll be trail riding her in the near future.



My son is working for us once a week and cleaning out the pasture. If you recall earlier pictures of it, it'd gone back to the wild. It's amazing what he did with a chain saw and a little Kubota tractor. Now, it's pretty much cleared, but we'll have to replant the grass, as it's just dirt.

Pasture--Before



Pasture--After

Despite our best efforts to make the pasture horse friendly once again, she sliced open her leg within a few days of her homecoming. My vet paid his first of what I'm sure will be many visits to our little farm. So twice a day, armed with a syringe filled with 20 horse-sized pills and Karo syrup, I've been trudging out to the barn to wrestle with my 1500-pound mare. I'm happy to report the leg has healed, and she's doing well.



We love to go away on weekend vacations, but having a horse at home, does put a damper on our frequent travelling. We'll be staying home more often, maybe saving more money by doing so.

While having a horse at home presents all kinds of challenges, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I love the deep, guttural sound she makes when she sees me walking out to the barn. I like being able to check on her whenever the mood strikes me.

The Mystery of the Runway Farmsitter

Over Labor Day weekend, my husband and I took his daughter and her boyfriend to the San Juan Islands. We were quite excited about this trip, as they'd never been to the Islands before. We couldn't wait to share it with them.

One of the challenges we all face when we go on vacation is finding a farmsitter, especially one which doesn't charge an arm and leg.
An old Army buddy of my husband's, we'll call him Leo, volunteered to farm sit for us. Leo had gotten himself in a bit of trouble a few years ago in a drunken bar fight. As a result, he'd spent a few years in jail. After he'd been released, Leo's aunt and uncle had taken him in. He'd really turned himself around in the year he'd lived with them. He'd stopped drinking, was working hard to get his life back on track, was even teaching Sunday school at the church where his uncle was the reverend.

Off and on, Leo would do work for us on the farm, stuff we just didn't have time to do. This visit, we had a list of chores for him. Because the truck his uncle had given him was broken down, my hubbie picked him up at a bus stop near hubby's work.

As we were leaving for our trip, Leo mentioned that he'd like to wash my truck, which sorely needed it. Hubbie showed her where the keys were so he could move the truck over by the barn, nearer the hose. I asked Leo if he would be OK out here on the farm for 4 days without any means of transportation. He assured me he had plenty to keep him busy. I gave him our neighbor's number in case he needed something.

Fast forward to Sunday evening about 5 pm. We're having a great time with the kids. We've gone whale watching and seen two pods of whales, attended the piano/organ concert at Rosario, had some incredible meals, hiked to Mt. Constitution's lookout, essentially hit all the tourist spots.

My cell rings. It's our neighbors (my former daughter-in-law and her new husband, both of whom we're very close to) wondering if we gave Leo permission to drive our truck. It appears as soon as we left on Friday he headed out and didn't come back until after midnight. Saturday, same story. Now it's Sunday, and he's been gone since early morning. They're concerned about our animals and have gone up to feed them.

Hubbie immediately calls Leo on his cell and reaches him. Leo claims he didn't realize he wasn't supposed to drive the truck but says he's on his way up our driveway as he speaks. We don't buy his story. I call our neighbors a half hour later. No sign of Leo. I reach him on my cell. Again, he answers, this time he claims he's only 5 minutes from our home. I tell him in no uncertain terms to get the truck home and not to drive it again.

We go to dinner, but Leo has effectively ruined our evening as we worry he's fallen off the wagon and imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. We try to call and text Leo several more times, but his phone is now turned off. The last time we talk to our neighbors that evening is about 11 pm. No sign of Leo or our truck.

Our neighbor was going to take the truck in to be serviced first thing Monday morning. He calls us at 7 am (we are already at the ferry landing waiting for the next ferry) to inform us the truck and Leo are nowhere to be found. Leo has now left our animals without care for over 24 hours (though our neighbors are taking care of them).

As we drive the 2.5 hours home, I'm getting more and more frantic. I check my iPhone for possible serious accidents within the last 24 hours. Thank God, there's been none involving a green Chevy pickup truck. So at least, I know Leo hasn't wrecked on I-5 and injured innocent people. We can't get any information from the State Patrol on our truck's whereabouts because I don't know the license number. Lesson #1, always have your license numbers stored somewhere easily accessible.

We're calling everyone we can think of who might know Leo. Via some sleuthing on Facebook, I find out the name of the aunt and uncle he lives with and obtain their phone number, again thanks to my iPhone. They haven't seen him either but are extremely upset that he'd betray our trust like this. After several calls, they haven't located him either. But they do know his brother saw him late Sunday night in a bar in Tacoma (about 45 minutes from our house).

Now, let me pause to say that this truck is my baby. I bought it brand new in 2002. It's my dream truck, a fully loaded 3/4-ton, heavy duty, Duramax diesel with a towing package, leather heated seats, the works. And it's paid for. Since we're all horse people, you know how expensive a truck like this is and how hard it will be to replace it.

As soon as we get home and armed with the truck's title and other info, we drive to the local sheriff's office. They're closed, but a deputy is walking into the building and agrees to take our information. After hubbie and him bond over having both been Army Rangers out of Fort Lewis, we head home.

By the time we arrive home, the deputy has left us a voicemail. He's located our truck. A towing company has it in impound at a nearby towing yard about ten minutes from our place. It appears Leo was picked with a DUI and the truck impounded.

We immediately go the impound yard, which actually isn't open on Labor Day, but a tow truck driver happens to be there. We pay the impound fee, but the truck won't start. It appears Leo has put over 300 miles on my truck and run it out of diesel. Back we go to our house for a diesel can. Still the truck won't start. We find a mechanic nearby, again not working on Labor Day, but in his shop repairing his own car. He agrees to start our truck for us.

Finally, we are on the road, out a few hundred dollars, but no other harm done, unless you count my husband's immense disappointment in Leo. But lesson 2 is trust your instincts and don't be so willing to give your trust to someone who hasn't earned it.

Well, Leo finally surfaces a week later in a VA hospital in Seattle. We don't really know when he went into the hospital, but we do know that he ran the truck out of fuel about 6 miles from our house and was sleeping in it. The State Patrol picked him up at 6:30 on Monday morning and booked him on possession of a vehicle while intoxicated and--get this--driving without a license. They dropped him off somewhere in Olympia and supposedly another friend took him to the hospital later that day as he isn't feeling well.

We haven't talked to him since, nor has he talked to us. We know through his aunt and uncle that he's claiming we'd given him permission to drive our truck, which we did not. We've decided not to press charges and chalk this up as lessons learned for both of us.

Leo had stood by my husband when hubbie came back from Iraq. Hubbie was pretty messed up after having been hit by a roadside bomb. Leo had helped hubbie get through some very difficult times. Hubbie trusted him with his life, now he can't trust him at all. Unfortunately, he's lost a very good friend because of Leo's irresponsible actions and betrayal of hubbie's trust, which hurts more than any of the rest of it.

Where were You?

I've missed my last two post days. Both times I was on vacation. I was going to post today about the runaway farmsitter who abandoned our animals, took our truck without permission, and hasn't been seen since (the truck ended up in impound). I also considered posting about the Orca whales we saw on vacation (3 separate sightings). I wondered if I should start my planned series titled So You want to Ride Dressage.

When I woke up this morning, none of it seemed appropriate. While it's not horse-related, I chose to tell my tale of where I was when the towers fell. I'd like to hear your story, too.
I'm on the west coast, and I was starting work at 7 am that summer. Since my commute takes a half hour, I got up early. As I was getting out of the shower that morning, my former husband (we'll call him John) called to me from the living room. He told me a Cessna or something had flown into the WTC.

As I continued to get ready, I wondered if the pilot was committing suicide or what. It didn't make sense. John called to me again, telling me another plane had hit the 2nd tower. I hurried to the living room. He was staring at the TV in shock. Turning to me he says, "That was no Cessna." He said a reporter was standing in front of the WTC reporting on the first crash when a plane flew right behind her and hit the 2nd tower. She didn't even notice it until her camera man pointed it out.

I turned on the news as I got in my truck to head for work. I was barely out of the driveway when it was reported that the Pentagon had been hit.

I had no idea what was going on, nor did anyone else, but the preliminary reports were that America was being attacked by terrorists. As soon as I got to work, I turned on the big screen TV in my temporary "office." I work at the state capitol. My colleague and I, who do computer support for the Legislature, had been displaced from our real office earlier that year when a 6.8 earthquake closed our capitol building. We'd been put in a hearing room for the summer. This room had all the multi-media stuff including a projector and a big screen.

My colleague showed up shortly after I did. We sat in a couple chairs in the hearing room and watched the rest of it unfold on the huge screen. Soon we were joined by a few other staff members. Our capitol campus was on lockdown, no one allowed in or out. Personally, I wanted to go home, well aware our capitol building was a replica of the one in DC and could be a symbolic west coast target. I knew it was a remote possibility, but I knew I wouldn't be worth much at work that day.

The entire day was eerie and surreal. Very few people came to work that day. The few that did seemed to congregate in our hearing room to watch our TV. We were locked in these deserted capitol buildings for the majority of the day.

We watched in horror as people jumped to their death in an attempt to avoid being burned alive. We saw the first tower fall, and my heart sank. I felt sick. I knew all those first responders were inside, valiantly rushing to save the people on the upper floors. Not to mention the people trapped inside or attempting to escape. My next thought was get out of the second tower now.

I heard reports that another plane was unaccounted for. Next I heard it had crashed in a field about ten minutes from the nation's Capitol. Even then I wondered if the passengers might have brought it down. Several minutes later the 2nd tower collapsed.

I spent the remainder of the day, reeling from shock, bathed in grief for the loved ones of all those people who had died, and full of hope that survivors would be found. Of course, very few were as the days unfolded.

As we remember this day, let us not forget the good things which came out of it. We united as a nation. People generously helped other people. We gained a renewed respect for our first responders. And let us not forget all the people effected by this tragedy.

Feel free to tell us your story and reactions of that day.

Changes This Fall

As many of you know, I'll be leasing an Anglo/Arab schoolmaster starting this fall. For the first time in almost two years, I'll be back to riding regularly, maybe even showing. My routine of going home after work and writing is about to change--in more ways than one.

My horse barn turned dog kennel

I'd leased my mare to my trainer for breeding purposes. She was in foal but absorbed the foal. They bred her again, and she didn't take the second time. The stallion wasn't available for a third breeding, so she would not be bred again this year. Not wanting to pay the money to board a horse that I'm not riding, I made the decision to bring her home in September.

I've not had a horse on the property in six years. This will be a big adjustment for my husband and I. We've gotten in the habit of leaving quite often for weekend vacations, which will be harder to do now. We've also turned one of the stalls and paddocks into a dog kennel. The fencing in the other paddock is in need of repair, my pasture is overgrown, and the fences also need repair. Weeds are growing in my outdoor arena. The hay storage area has other stuff stored in it. All in all, the place needs to work to be horse ready.

My seldom-used arena

If only that was the least of my problems. There are no other horses in my neighborhood. What to do about a friend for Gailey? I'm not really interested in buying another riding horse at this time, so that leaves me with finding a pony, miniature pony, a goat, or something else. Right now, I'm just going to take it one step at a time. While the weather's good, the dogs can sleep in the kennel at night and keep my mare company, but this winter, I'll need to come up with another option. Of course, using my other stall for an animal means I'll need to build another dog kennel.

The logging road in the woods by my house

Sigh...

Yet, despite the work and hassle involved, part of me is looking forward to having Gailey at home and doing some trail riding in my woods. Also, I know I can pay closer attention to her when she's at home than I could at the boarding stable.

I'm open for suggestions on a low-maintenance companion for her so give me your ideas.

My New Horse Venture

Shatar and his owner at the Arab Sport Horse Nationals

As most of you know, I've been in an struggle trying to decide what direction to go with my riding, if any. My dressage partner of 13 years has been retired, and I've been riding lesson horses.

As often happens when you quit looking for a solution to a problem, a solution falls in your lap. A few weeks ago, one fell into mine.

I was offered the chance to lease Shatar. Shatar is an older Anglo-Arab in my barn, who's been shown extensively at FEI levels, helped riders earn their USDF Bronze and Silver Medals, and was Reserve Prix St. Georges at the Arabian Sport Horse Nationals a few years back. His owner has two other horses she rides and shows. She doesn't want to let go of Shatar, and she'd like to lease him to someone who will ride him at the upper levels. Even though he's older, he's still supple, sound, and in great shape.

Also at Arab Sport Horse Nationals

I've ridden him in a few lessons and really enjoyed him. During my last lesson, I acutally rode my first canter pirouettes and also started learning some tempi changes. He knows it all so it's a matter of teaching me.

I'll also be able to show him next year. He's a trooper with tons of show miles and moves like a little warmblood. I may even enter the world of Arabian sport horse showing, something I've never done before. It could prove interesting.

Shatar is uncomplicated, though he doesn't give anything away. He wants you to work for it and do it right.

Hopefully, another positive by-product will be that I'll lose the 20 pounds I've put on since I quit riding.

So it looks like I'm back in the saddle. I'll start leasing him in September. Stay tuned for more as I learn how to ride an upper-level horse.

I'm Back Again

I'm back again.
It's been three weeks.

I turn off the road onto the driveway to the barn where I take my lessons, and my horse is boarded. Funny, I didn't really miss it while I was gone. In fact, I been seriously considering cancelled my lessons and being 100 percent horse-free. You've probably heard this from me before in the past several months.

Yes, I considered it.

But then I considered a lot of things, such as giving up horses completely, spending time and money on other things, things normal horseless people spend money on like clothes and vacations and new cars. Yeah, stuff like that. I considered it long and hard during my three-week hiatus.

I dreaded going to the barn that day. I had too many things to do, didn't really want to ride. I arrived at the barn fully intending to give up my lesson spot that evening. After all, there are plenty of clients dying to have a prime spot like mine in the early evening.

I walk to the arena to get my horse assignment. (If you've been following this blog, you know that my wonderful dressaage partner of thirteen years has suspensory issues and cannot be ridden and has been retired to broodmare status.)
I've been assigned Ciro to ride. Now Ciro is as close to a push-button dressage horse as I've ever ridden. He's FEI level, knows all the tricks, and is incredibly supple and sensitive. His owner has gone boating for a month and wants him kept in shape.
I groom Ciro, saddle and bridle him, and head to the arena. It always take me a while to get the stirrups adjusted correctly on someone else's saddle. I walk him around the arena, then trot as the other lesson is finishing up.
My lesson starts. I'm still wishing I was home working on my latest book. We start by getting him round and over the top and lifting his shoulders. Once he does that, I can sit him somewhat easily. Then we do shoulder-in, half-pass, haunches-in at the trot.

We go to canter. He has a lovely canter. You just plug your butt into the saddle and sit there. I do canter half-passes. He makes it simple. Enjoyable. Just like it should be.
I've ridden him enough to know that it just takes a touch to lift him into a canter and a switch of legs and seatbones to change leads. We head down the short diagonal, and I do two changes, ending up on the counter canter. Easy. Really easy. He's just rolling along. We do some more all over the arena.

Dang, this is fun.

I guess I won't talk to my trainer about giving up my lesson time. Not yet, anyway. :)

(Oops. I accidentally posted this to my Jami Davenport blog yesterday, not my Equestrian Ink Blog:)

Annoucing the Equestrian Ink Great Summer Giveaway

The writers at Equestrian Ink would like to thank our readers for their continued support over the past few years.

This summer we're offering the Great Summer Giveaway at Equestrian Ink. Each Saturday one of the EI regular authors will post a book cover and blurb. If you'd like to be entered for a chance to win that book, follow the instructions posted to enter. The winner will be annouced each week on the following Friday.
Some authors may be able to provide a print or digital version of the book depending on the winner's preference.

We hope you'll join us for the opportunity to win some great books.

Cedrona Farm--My Little Piece of Puget Sound Paradise

Living in the Pacific Northwest requires a special breed of person to appreciate the beauty and tolerate the crappy weather 8-10 months of the year. Not that it’s cold or snowy, but it’s nine to ten months of gray to the point where you believe you’ll never see sun again in your lifetime. This past weather has proven especially trying, even for those of us who are native northwesterners like me. Despite the rain and perennial gray, I’d never want to live anywhere else.

The short bridle path through the woods on my property which opens into the horse arena

 Laura’s post about her beautiful little piece of heaven got me thinking about my own little paradise. About 18 years ago, my first husband and I decided to move back to where he grew up, a little town off of Highway 101 heading up the Olympic Peninsula. We started looking for property and found a three-acre plot in a newly developed area. All of the lots on this hill were at least 2 acres, and the property hadn’t been clearcut, so the trees were still standing. We purchased a lot that was partially on the hill but had a flat spot at the top in case I ever wanted to build a horse arena. When we had the land cleared, we also had it leveled and cleared for a future horse arena. The property borders commercial timberland so you can ride all day on the logging roads and trails around here.

My horse arena and horse barn

A few years later, we built our dream house. A year after that, we designed and had built a small horse barn on the property. The barn was a compromise because my former husband wanted a place to store his ski boat out of the rain, and I wanted a horse barn. Two-thirds of our barn was for horses and one-third had an area large enough for a ski boat. My horse barn and pasture even have views of a saltwater inlet and the Olympic Mountains.

My overgrown horse pasture

Over the years, I’ve kept one to two horses on the property, but after my divorce I started boarding my mare for the social aspect as well as being near my trainer.

For the past five years, my barn has been nothing more than a storage area. My small pasture has become overgrown and one of my stalls and paddocks has become a dog kennel. Over the 16-plus years I’ve lived here, the woods have started to move back in and take over. I’ve been battling it back, but at times I feel as if I’m fighting a losing battle. This summer my goal is to reclaim my overgrown pasture and repair perimeter fencing. I’m going to post some before pictures. Hopefully, by the end of the summer, you’ll get to see some after pictures.

The backside of our house

I love this property and feel especially fortune I was able to hang onto it after my divorce. My new husband loves the place as much as I do. He’s been primarily responsible for the flowers you seen in the pictures, as I don’t have a green thumb at all. Someday soon, I’ll have horses here again, and I’m looking forward to the day. It’s a great horse property and a shame that no horses live here.

But they will someday soon. Hopefully sooner. Then I'll have an entirely new set of challenges and joys to blog about. :)

It’s Spring, a Time for Love and Babies

Spring is traditionally considered a time for babies of all species to be born and for love to bloom. That’s never been so true for me as it is this spring.

First of all, my husband and I celebrated our fifth anniversary earlier this week. I can say without reservations our relationship gets better and better with age.

Gailey at a show a few years ago, Photo by Showcase Imagery

For the past several months, my trainer and I have been discussing the possibility of breeding my mare, Gailey. At this time in my life, I have no interest in breeding horses and raising a baby. Yet, I’d love to see Gailey with a foal. She’d have a beautiful baby.

A few months ago Kari asked if she might lease Gailey for a year to breed her. Kari has been out of the breeding business for quite some time, but Gailey is such a lovely mare, she’s decided to give it a shot. We made an appointment with our mutual veterinarian. After checking her over, he announced that she was ovulating nicely for an older mare and everything seemed to be as it should. As far as her big leg and other issues, he didn’t feel the pregnancy would add any undue stress to her joints or cause any additional issues with the leg.

While Gailey is an approved Hanoverian, Kari called the Dutch registry to inquire as to what it would take to get her approved as a Dutch horse. After reviewing her papers, they said they’d accept her into the Dutch registry based on her papers and the Hanoverian approval.

 Kari talked to Iron Spring Farms and faxed them a copy of her papers. So it’s all arranged, next month my lovely mare will be bred to the MOST gorgeous Dutch stallion. UB40 (weird name, I agree). The contact person at Iron Springs was quite excited with the match as they’d crossed him with a few other mares from similar bloodlines and the results were outstanding.



UB40, Dutch Stallion standing at Iron Spring Farms



Gailey and UB40 will make the most incredible baby. Who knows, I might even take a chance myself and breed her next year.

On a non-horse-related front, I have other joyous news to report.

I never had my own children, but my former husband and I did have custody of his son, Brandon, when he was growing up. Yes, there are times I regret not having any of my own, as I’ve always craved a big family, but some things are not to be.

My new husband has three grown children. My attempts to establish a relationship with them have been met with polite disinterest, so I’ve resigned myself to anything but the most superficial relationship with the three of them. I reached this epiphany last summer after a very painful and sad process, but it freed me to give my love to others who would return it, rather than shun it.

It also freed me to write again, and I’ve completed three novels since then. My football hero romance titled Fourth and Goal will be released this Tuesday from Loose Id. By the way, football is my other passion next to my husband and horses.

I have since established a closer relationship with Brandon and his wife, who live about five miles from me. Brandon is estranged from his mother and has been for years, which is a sad but true fact of his life. His wife Jade’s mother died when she was three, and her father never remarried. The lack of a mother figure in either of their lives has allowed me to fill a role I’ve longed to fill for years. Brandon’s father (my ex) and my husband have become best of friends. In fact, we introduced my ex to his current wife. Our ability to be friends with each other, has allowed us to morph into this odd blended family made up of ex’s and current’s and step relatives, and we all get along famously. Brandon is the biggest winner of all because he never has to choose between his dad and me. He gets us both and our respective spouses.

You’re probably wondering what I’m leading up to. Well a few weeks ago, Brandon and Jade had a baby, my first true grandchild. I am absolutely ecstatic to have a grandson. I’ve never been much of a baby person; but after holding the little guy in my arms, that’s all changed. I even stayed in the room and watched him being born. What a treat for me. My hubbie and I are already planning his football career. 

I hope your spring is as full of love and life as mine.

Yes, There is Hope!!!

Since Gailey’s been off work, I’ve been riding other horses around the barn in my lessons, both my trainer’s and boarders’ horses.

At first, I was really nervous riding horses I didn’t know. I’d ridden the same mare for the past 13 years. During all those years, I considered myself the luckiest person in the barn. Gailey was an exceptionally smooth horse to ride and sit. In fact, I’d go as far to say she was incomparable to anything I’d ever ridden. Yet, while her gaits made her extremely easy to sit, her other faults didn’t make her easy to ride.
Up until recently, I honestly didn’t have a clue how difficult she actually was. I assumed our problems were all mine, that I was just an awful rider, incapable of doing justice to such a wonderful mare. While everyone else in the barn would parade around with the countless ribbons they’d won, I’d slink off to my corner and lick my wounds, grateful I hadn’t finished dead last my respective class (though at times I didn’t even have that little triumph for comfort).

Over the years, I’ve come to believe I’m hopeless as far as ever being any good at dressage. After all, if I couldn’t do well on a horse like Gailey, I obviously didn’t have it in me to do well on anything. Besides, I knew I was uncoordinated. My body just doesn’t work the way other riders’ bodies work.
When I first started riding other horses, I’ll admit I fretted about making a fool out of myself. Everyone would see what an incompetent rider I really was. Yet, that’s not what happened. Somewhere along the line, I came to the startling conclusion I could ride other horses and do them justice.
The horse who drove that point home was Ciro. Ciro is owned by a wonderful woman at the barn who I’ve known for years. She’s one of those older women who doesn’t look a day over forty, a fact which I attribute to her long-time love affair with horses. She’s a doctor’s wife and is one the nicest, most down-to-earth people you could ever meet. She’s gone a lot, so Ciro is often available for lessons.
My fellow riders rave about riding Ciro, a Grand Prix level schoolmaster who is relatively bombproof. Last week, I had the privilege of saddling Ciro for a lesson, and it was a privilege.
My first realization Ciro was a different kind of horse came as I rode at a walk down the rail, I shifted my weight and legs by accident, and he went into a haunches-in. I re-adjusted my seat and legs and he travelled straight. I tried a shoulder-in and just like a well-programmed machine he did a perfect shoulder-in. No fuss, not struggle, just push the correct buttons, and he did the rest.

Wow. I was impressed. When I moved into the trot and canter, it was more of the same. As my lesson progressed, Ciro did everything I asked him, even things I didn’t realize I was asking him. We did counter-canter, changes, collected canter, etc. Everything was simple and straight-forward. You do this, he does that. I’d never ridden such an uncomplicated horse in my life. What a joy it was, and what a confidence booster for me.

And an eye-opener. You see, up until last week, I had no clue how complicated my mare really was. Now I knew. It took a horse like Ciro to drive home the fact that I wasn’t nearly as bad of a rider as I thought, and my mare, while I love her dearly, is not an easy horse to ride.

Armed with my new-found confidence, I’m looking forward to my next lesson on whatever horse I’m assigned because you know what? I really can do this.

Take Care of Your Horseshoer

I live in constant fear that my horseshoer will “fire me” or leave the area. Does that sound weird?

Well, here’s the deal. Good horseshoers are hard to find. My mare requires hot shoeing because three of her feet are odd-shaped, especially one front foot which is somewhat of a club-foot. The two hinds require bar shoes. On top of that she wears size 3 shoes which he orders ahead of time since he doesn’t usually carry shoes that big. I also understand dressage horses are shod differently than other horses. I don’t know exactly want the difference is. I leave that up to my shoer and trust him to handle it.

My particular shoer used to teach the horseshoeing school at the local community college until they shut down the program. Unfortunately, he has back issues so shoeing my horse can be a trial for him. Gailey is a leaner, and we’re talking about 1350 pounds of leaning. My poor shoer is moaning and groaning the entire time.

He’s also the first shoer who’s actually explained a few things to me about her. First of all, when he works on her feet and then releases her foot, she holds the foot up as if she’s going to kick him. I used to swat her for that behavior, and my former shoers would get after her. This shoer doesn’t. He explained to me that she’s arthritic, and it takes her a while to uncramp her foot and put it back down after he’s held it up for a while.

Also she makes it hard for him to pick up her foot and place it on his little foot stand (I have no idea what those things are called). He’s the first shoer who’s explained that her hocks get sore, and it hurts for them to be lifted up that high and held in position.

I never realized any of this. I thought she was being belligerent so did my former shoers.

A few months ago when he came to shoe her, she’d been on bute for a few weeks because of lameness. He said it was the easiest time he’d ever had shoeing her. She wasn’t resistant and didn’t fight him when he lifted her legs. I was mortified. I hadn’t realized how sore she’d been and how much her arthritis affected the shoeing process, not just for her comfort but also for his.

I’ve started buting her a few days before each shoeing to make it more comfortable for both of them.

A few weeks ago, I was really sick and missed my shoeing appointment. I didn’t know I missed it until a week later, I was that sick. I’ve never missed an appointment before so I started calling my shoer and apologizing profusely. After a few days of nail-biting in dread that he may add me to his list of fired clients, he finally called me back. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

He's a great shoer, and he's also entertaining. Someday he should go on the road as a comedy act.

Now he’s threatening to move to Boise, but I’ll cross my fingers he doesn’t. Searching for a new horseshoer who understands Gailey and her issues would not be an easy process.

If you have a good horseshoer, treat them like gold. It seems to be a dying art.