My Son's Horse

                                                by Laura Crum

            Sometimes you get lucky. I had no intention of buying Henry. I had known the horse for years. A reliable, good hearted, somewhat boring horse, I thought. I had no interest in him. For most of those years I rode more athletic horses that were sensitive and perhaps a little hot. Henry struck me as dull. And he was a sorrel—my least favorite color. He did not intrigue me and I had no desire to own him, though I knew him to be a good horse—a capable rope horse, always sound, willing to babysit a child. Just not my kind of horse.

            When my son was little (between three and five years), he rode with me on my horse, Plumber. And one day, when Plumber was lame due to being kicked while in the trailer by his traveling partner, my uncle, who owned Henry, offered to let us ride the horse. I knew Henry was safe, so accepted the offer—and I was pleasantly surprised. Though a lazy horse overall, Henry had a wonderfully smooth trot and gave me a good feel. I enjoyed riding him. And I didn’t think too much more about it.

            When my kid turned five, I bought him a pony. And for two years he rode that pony almost every day. At first with me leading him, and later with me ponying him from my horse, and after about a year, my son rode Toby independently, while I rode along with him on Plumber. Toby was a real jewel. He was a big pony, thirteen and a half hands, and I thought, if I thought about it at all, that my son would grow up riding his pony, as the girl who owned Toby before us had done, and that when my boy became a teenager I’d move him up to a horse—just like the previous owner.

            Sadly Toby died of cancer just two years after we bought him. It happened the same autumn we lost our old dog and an old cat that was my son’s special friend. All within a six week period. It was my child’s first real brush with mortality, and it was a tough introduction. I was desperate to do something to alleviate the pain. I couldn’t bring Toby back, but I could make sure that horseback riding didn’t disappear for us with the loss of the pony. If I could find the right replacement for Toby.

            I remember telling my husband that none of our horses were suitable to mount a child on—too sensitive, too spooky. It wasn’t worth the risk. “But I know of one,” I said. And I called my uncle up and asked what he’d take for Henry.

            My uncle has been a horse trader all his life. He wasn’t planning on selling Henry, but it was autumn and the roping season was coming to an end for the year. Now he would feed the horse through the winter and not get any use out of him. And Henry was 19. Though sound, his days as a rope horse were probably limited. And my uncle knew that I would give any horse I took on a good home. And so he named a price—a very high price for a nineteen year old horse that was to be used as a kid’s riding horse. I said, “Fine. I’ll take him.” And the next day Henry was in my barn.

            My knowledgeable horse friends thought I was nuts. “He WAY overcharged you,” they said. “Did you vet him?” they said.

            I shrugged. No, I didn’t vet him. I knew him. And I also knew that I could search forever and not find another horse I was sure about. Sure he was sound, sure he was safe. It was worth every cent to know that my kid could keep riding and that I wouldn’t have to worry. I trusted Henry.

            And so it proved. When I bought Henry my little boy had just turned seven. Toby the pony had taught him to ride, but we really hadn’t ventured out of the arena much. My son had just begun asking me to go on trail rides shortly before Toby died. And with Henry, we jumped right in. Below you see us on my son’s first ride at the beach, shortly after we bought Henry—it was Henry’s first time at the beach, too, I believe. In the photo we have just emerged from the trail through the sand dunes and are looking at the ocean. If I look a bit stern it’s because I was wondering how Henry would react to his first sight of the sea (he was fine). Plumber, my horse, never did care for the beach, which I think you can tell from his expression. But we had a good ride that day, and my son was hooked on riding “outside.”

            However in the months to come I realized it was time to retire Plumber, who was 20. Plumber was peggy on downhills and let me know he did not care for trail riding any more. Not to mention he was spooky. He spooked at every little rustle in the brush. This had never bothered me before, but now I had to keep my attention on my son. I needed a solid horse that could take care of himself and give Henry a steady lead. And so I bought Sunny.

            Sunny was as steady on the trail as Henry. Not much of anything bothered him. And my son and I, on Sunny and Henry, went on over a hundred trail ride adventures in the first year that we owned these two horses.

            Through the woods.

                               To the Lookout.

                                    On the beach.

                                 In the redwood forest.

Over the hills.

                         Henry was a trooper. He loped endless circles for my kid.

                                          He chased cattle.

            He was just a great horse. And then he colicked. It seemed, initially, to be a mild colic. We treated him. But every time the pain killer wore off, the pain came back. Henry never did seem to be in great distress. But he wasn’t coming out of it. After two days of this, we hauled him to the equine center. And there, after X-rays and ultra-sound, they told me that he needed surgery.

            I have to admit, I have always been one of those people who said they would never do colic surgery. Too much money, endless rehab, a lot of horses don’t recover, just too much grief for both horse and owner. So my inclination was to say no. And besides Henry wasn’t looking too bad. Just mildly painful. He didn’t look like a horse that needed surgery.

            But the vet convinced me that it was Henry’s best chance. And I couldn’t stand not to try. We’d lost Toby a little over a year ago. If I could help it, we weren’t going to lose Henry. It was a tough decision, and I drove away from the veterinary center with tears streaming down my face, not sure if I’d ever see Henry again.

            But I did. We all did. The very next day we drove to the center to take Henry (with a huge bandage around his middle) for a walk. And the old horse was a bit shaky, but bright-eyed. He nickered when he saw us and walked eagerly alongside my son and grazed on the green grass. And the vet handed me a cantalope sized stone they had taken out of his intestine.

            Henry recovered. The rehab was as long and time consuming and frustrating as I had feared, but we got through it. Six months later, Henry was back to full work and doing great. I will be forever grateful.

This was five years ago, and we have gone on hundreds of trail rides since. I have grown to love Henry as much as I have ever loved any horse. Not just for the gift he has given my son, though that alone is priceless, but for himself. For his wonderful, bright-eyed, tough little self. My son’s red horse. Who still carries my kid bravely on adventures, and is 100% sound and free moving at 25 years of age. Like I said to begin with, sometimes you get lucky. Thank you, Henry. You have a forever home with us.

My son and Henry headed back to the barn after a good ride--April 2013.

 Henry enjoying some post-ride grazing--April 2013

Spending the weekend with a living legend.

Have you ever sat around with a bunch of friends and talked about - if you could have lunch with anyone, living or dead, who would it be. A lot of people say celebrities like Marilyn Monroe or James Dean, while others would say Presidents like Kennedy or Lincoln. Well I have a whole list of people like Oprah Winfrey, Martin Luther King, Gandhi and Amelia Earhart.

Well, just this past Saturday and Sunday, I got the privilege of spending the weekend with one of the people on my list – Debbie McDonald. It gets even better, I got to take not one, but two lessons with her and there are not words to describe how incredible it all was. So a little bit of back history, a year or so back, some of you might remember that I blogged that Brentina spent her Winters boarded at my sister’s farm in Goleta, California just north of Santa Barbara. This came about because the veterinarian that my sister uses is also the same vet that Debbie McDonald used to care for Brentina during her competitive years. Debbie was looking for a place to leave Brentina (happy in her retirement) while the rest of their group went to Florida to compete over the Winter and a farm close to Dr. Timm’s home base in Santa Ynez was all the better. So 2 winters ago Brentina became a regular at In The Irons Farm, my sister’s farm.

A few months ago, when Debbie was up to visit Brentina, my sister asked Debbie if she would ever consider teaching a clinic at In The Irons and Debbie quickly responded, “Yes, I would love too.” The next day my sister called me (I live about 4 hours away in San Diego County) and said “what is it worth to you to ride with Debbie McDonald?” After I picked myself up off the floor I said, “Well certainly my undying admiration and gratitude and perhaps even a kidney!” My sister laughed and said “well you don’t have to go quite that far, just make sure you can come up April 6&7.”

So I cleared my calendar for this weekend, which meant giving up teaching a clinic in Chicago, and Uiver and I made the trek to Goleta. To say that I was anxious is to say the least. In my eyes, Debbie McDonald is a living legend and the competitive ground that she broke with Brentina has paved the way for many other U.S. riders. Debbie McDonald and Brentina were the first horse and rider pair to ever win the World Cup in Europe and her freestyle performed to Motown music like “Brick House” and “Respect” is epic in the dressage world.

To say that Debbie was open, kind, engaging, disarming and the best clinician I have ever ridden with is an understatement. Uiver was a bit strong and full of himself the first day which tends to bring out my tendency to over hold him and use too much hand, but she work us through it and grilled me on my position as well as where we are giving up points in the CDI ring. Her eye for detail is exceptional as well as her ability to quickly asses the cause/affect of both the horse’s and the rider’s strengths and weaknesses.

Later on that evening when we were all having dinner (Yes I actually got to have dinner with her since she stayed at my sister’s home On Saturday night) Debbie could not have been more gracious with all of us star struck dressage star “wanna-bes”. She talked about what a once in a life time partnership she and Brentina had and why she chose to retire as a competitor rather than try in vane to repeat a magical partnership that has no parallel. Her utter love and admiration for Brentina is so evident. I made a comment about her freestyle at the world cup in Vegas, which I was privileged to witness, and her eyes lit up in remembrance. To me, that bond and that magic is what a true equestrian is all about.

She even took the time to talk with me further about the expectations of the CDI judges versus National judges. I now have a much better understanding for why Uiver and my scores have dropped so dramatically and I know what we have to improve to bring our scores up.

I watched a video of my first ride with Debbie early the next morning and I was determined to show her improvement when we lessoned again later on Sunday. I knew from watched the videos that I needed greater independence in my hands and needed to sit even taller to keep up with Uiver cadenced, forward trot. As a result, my second ride with her was so much better. Uiver was much more settled and we had a much softer connection. Debbie was very encouraging and made note of how much I had improved from the day before. I cannot tell you how much it meant to have someone that I idolize tell we what a great job I had done.

To be honest with you I have not even processed it all since I just arrived home a few hours ago after the long, traffic filled drive home. I know that I am forgetting many details but for now my weary brain will leave you with a few videos. The first 2 are clips of me riding with Debbie and the last is her World Cup Freestyle from Las Vegas. Even this many years later, it still makes me cry watching it because it is just so amazing. If I could achieve even a small percentage of her amazing prowess my goals would be achieved.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=g05J-_sxvic        

How I Know that Spring is Really Here

Subtitle for this post is "Signs of Spring."

First Sign--My horses are so disgusting I don't want to brush them.  Long hair that is shedding plus constant and caked-on mud (they do love to roll this time of year) make brushing impossible. I don't have the luxury of  a wash stall or vacuum so a shedding blade has to do. A brush and curry are basically useless against the dried mud and forget about getting the 'dust' out of the long coats. I end up covered in dirt and hair, meaning my clothes must be dumped in  the laundry room and I dumped in the shower. Still I spend spring sneezing and blowing out wads of yuck from my nose.

Second Sign --Bell my fat pony has to be penned away from the grass. Because I had access to a large pasture this winter, I was fortunate not to spend any money on hay. I think I fed two bales from November to March and that was during the snow (which never lasts long.) The horses actually turned up their noses at hay, so I knew the winter grass had plenty of nutrition. However, at the first signs of spring, Bell has to come off the large pasture. She already was starting to look like Porky Pig, and the grass was still brown! Neither horses are happy, but it's definitely tough love until summer drought dries up the grass or next fall's frost.

Third Sign of Spring -- YARD SALES.  OMG there are ten every week plus church flea markets and indoor sales. What's an addicted treasure hunter to do??? Three Saturdays in a row, I have been up at five a.m. Two were to 'pick' with a friend who is almost as bad as I am (aka "an enabler"). This Saturday was to sell at a giant yard sale where I sold enough to buy cool stuff and ended up with a profit of $20. Yeah, kind of like the horse business. My friend actually brought a ton of horse stuff to sell and found two BIG buyers who are horse crazy, too.Several inventive gardeners even bought saddle racks to hold hoses and dressage letters for a funky sign.

Fourth Sign of Spring -- and the best one -- Flowers!  This year I am combining my love of vintage with my love of gardening. I am adding flea market finds to my yard.

You can see how it works -- I'll post before and after pictures. For example: this lovely and empty flower pot is actually a tire rim from my son's Landcruiser. He had three, and since no one wants a set of three, mom snatched them for free. I am planting chard in two of them, and impatiens in one.
The second is an old bed frame I got at a thrift shop for four dollars. It's going to be a backdrop and trellis for my tall phlox that always topple in the wind. In the summer, I will post more pics and you can vote if what I do ends up as cool yard art or too close to flamingos and tires (apologies to all of you who have flamingos and tires in your yard.)
I am super-glad spring is here, and of course, these signs of spring were slightly tongue-in-cheek (but true for me.) What are you signs of spring? Long walks? Horse packing trips? Dogs getting into skunks? I'd love to know!

Causing a Problem?

                                                by Laura Crum

            After my recent post “Freak Accidents” I read several posts on other horse blogs that touched on the same topic. One was clearly inspired by my post (she referenced it—thanks jenj at Wyvern Oaks, listed on the sidebar) and a couple were both on a sort of alternate subject—as in the idea that you create a disaster by expecting one. Since my post was basically advocating that we stay alert and vigilant, such that we can mitigate or prevent a disaster before it occurs, I gave some thought to the idea proposed—that by expecting a good outcome we can help create one. And by expecting/preparing for a bad result, we help create that, too.

            I don’t entirely disagree with this. No smart person who works with horses and/or dogs will have failed to notice that by holding a calm, confident, relaxed attitude and expecting things to go well, you can nudge things in the direction of going well. It works on kids and chickens, too. But…I do have a few points to add.

            First off, it’s my contention that the two points of view aren’t really in conflict. I know, because I do both. For example, riding Sunny down the trail by myself, I see an odd looking stump up ahead and recognize by Sunny’s body language (pricked ears, body tension, reluctance to approach said stump) that he is worried about it. Now, I did not create this by worrying about the stump myself or imagining that Sunny might be afraid of the stump. I don’t expect Sunny to be afraid of anything—and this is realistic, since he rarely spooks. I ride along the trail expecting him to be relaxed and confident, as he usually IS relaxed and confident. Thus I, too, am relaxed and confident on the trail.

            I wish to contrast this to the point of view raised by another blogger, in which she describes being worried because her horse always “looks” at a certain stump, and then feeling that her own worry has created a situation where the horse spooks. Well, yeah, it could, sure. If you tense up, even minutely, and you are thinking about your horse possibly spooking at the stump long before she even sees the stump, you can definitely bring on the spook through expecting it. But this is a different equation from being relaxed yourself and at the same time being aware that your horse is thinking of spooking.

            So, let us say, that I am quite relaxed and confident, but I can tell Sunny is thinking of spooking at the stump. Shall I just decide that I’m going to envision him not spooking and go merrily along? Uhmm, no. I don’t think that will be be very helpful. I honestly don’t believe any “good vibes” coming from me will stop my horse from spooking if he’s decided to spook. What works for me is awareness and being prepared. I don’t get tense, and I’m not particularly worried—I can ride a spook. But I do make sure that I am holding the saddle horn, I relax my body further, and I am very careful to keep the reins loose and my legs loose. I bump Sunny lightly with my heels to encourage him forward and I am apt to say something in a relaxed, conversational tone. “Its just a stump you silly horse.” And I prepare to ride the spook.

            Sure enough, Sunny spooks, one of those sudden, now-you-are-facing-the-opposite-way spooks. I ride it. I check Sunny, turn him back around, and still relaxed, let him know we are going by the stump. Sunny is wary, but he’s not dumb. He’s already figured out the horse eating monster is a stump, and he can tell I’m not worried—either about the stump or his spook. He snorts, and bows his neck up, but he walks on by.

            So…if I am happily pretending that Sunny will not spook, and envisioning him walking along the trail steadily, even though he is clearly communicating to me that he is going to spook, I think the only likely result is 1) I am more likely to come off, and 2) the spook is more likely to escalate into a blot if he catches me off balance and unprepared. By preparing to ride the spook, and being ready to check him, I have turned the spook into a very minor incident.

            It’s my contention that we need to ride in a relaxed, confident frame (as much as we can), and I think this is simply obvious. But I have saved myself so much grief by seeing trouble coming and being prepared, that I will add that pretending/envisioning that something is not going to happen when it is very clearly brewing, is just dumb.

            So now lets take dogs. Here are my two (very funny looking) dogs. Jojo is half Aussie shepherd, half Jack Russell, and Star is a little rescue mutt—we think Chihuahua, terrier and dachshund.

            Both my two dogs will come back to me when called. The old dog (Jojo is 15 years old) is getting deaf, so that is a problem. Still, if she hears me, she will come. But both of them are not reliable if they become interested in another dog. So when they are off leash at the beach or on the trails, I remain alert. And when I see another dog, I call my dogs back immediately. If I call them before their interest has been engaged, and when the dog is still a ways away, they WILL come back to me. And then I leash them and we walk by the dog. No big deal.

            If, for instance, I decide not to call my dogs and leash them, and instead hold the thought (despite all prior behavior) that they will come to me and stay with me as we pass the dog…well, its my firm belief that I would end up with a mess. If the dog was friendly it might be run and play, but if it was not, it might be a fight. It’s not worth the risk and bother.

            Here’s the deal. My dogs mind me well enough. I’m not sure what to say about folks who can’t walk their dog by another dog while ON the leash. I’ve never had that problem. But I also don’t get bent out of shape thinking that my dogs must heel perfectly off leash. I don’t worry about it, I don’t stress over meeting other dogs. Just like when I’m on my horse, I cruise along relaxed and confident (or fat, dumb and happy, if you prefer) and I remain alert. Thus I spot the potential problem (or dog) before it is a problem, and I call my dogs back and leash them and on we go. It’s no big deal.

            So here’s my response to the idea that you can create a positive outcome by envisioning it. Yes and no. By remaining relaxed and confident you increase the chances that your horse/dog/kid will also be relaxed and confident. By being alert for potential trouble at the same time that you remain relaxed and confident you vastly increase your chances of being spared that potentially disastrous wreck. Blind confidence is no help at all. It only makes a true disaster more likely. And believe me, I have seen that outcome…though (partly) thanks to my vigilance I have so far been spared such a thing (knocking on wood).

            So what do you think? I think its an interesting subject and worth discussing.

            

Zenyatta does it again!

By Linda Benson (aka Zenyatta fan girl.)

Zenyatta catches us by surprise once again. No, not coming from far, far back with her tremendous long stride to pass all the other horses and win race after race: 19 out of 20 to be exact. But since her retirement and subsequent change of career (hey - motherhood is the most important job!) she has now foaled her second son. Last night, on Zenyatta's ninth birthday (April Fool's Day, no less) she waited until almost midnight to drop this strapping chestnut colt, by the sire Tapit.

I am not sure who to credit for this picture. It was obviously someone who was right there after the birth, and this great shot made the rounds of social media almost immediately last night. Isn't sharing wonderful? It makes you feel like you were almost right there, watching the little guy stand for the first time. (So thank you, picture taker, whoever you are!)

Here is the official baby picture, posted this morning, with the announcement from Zenyatta.com:

Of course, now all bets are on for the color he will be (Tapit is a grey.)

I'm guessing that he'll turn grey too. What do you all think?

The Proof is in the Doing...and Happy Easter!

                                    by Laura Crum

            I read an article the other day that asserted that horses should only carry 10% of their weight. I stopped and thought about it. This would mean that a 1000 pound horse should only carry 100 pounds. Uhmm…half the horses I know, make that a lot more than half, are carrying quite a bit more than 100 pounds. My horse included. Are we abusing them?

            Well, I can’t answer that definitively. But I can give an answer of sorts. Let’s look at Twister. Twister belongs to my friend, Wally. A registered QH, Twister is 15.2 and not particularly heavily built. I haven’t weighed Twister, but I owned a horse named Burt who was 15.3 and built stouter than Twister and Burt weighed 1250. It’s safe to say that Twister does not weigh more than that—I’d guess him to weigh 1200 or a little less.

            Now lets look at Wally. Wally is 6 foot 2 and weighs 230 (I’m sure he wouldn’t like me telling you this). If you look at the 10% rule, Twister should be carrying no more than 120 pounds. Instead he is carrying almost double that. Certainly double that if you include the heavy roping saddle. Is this wrong?

            Below you see Twister and Wally, along with my son and Henry, at the beach. This isn’t a great photo, but it gives you an idea what they look like. Wally does look big on Twister, though they are far from the most extreme examples of this that I have seen.

            Now, to answer the question. Twister is 16 years old. Wally has owned him and ridden him since Twister was 6 years old. Twister has, on average, been ridden three days a week for this entire time. Mostly team roping, some trail riding. So, ten years of steady riding, carrying about 20% of his own weight. Has it hurt him?

            You tell me how you would determine this. I can tell you this. Twister is 100% sound. I’m good at detecting lameness, and this horse has never once been the slightest bit lame (knocking on wood). Not stiff, not body sore, not off…nada. He goes barefoot in the winter and is shod in the summer. He gets nothing to eat but ample grass/alfalfa hay. No supplements, no injections, no Adequan, no Legend, nothing. Never had a chiropractic treatment or anything of that kind. Never had any bute. For ten years.

            Now it’s my contention that, if packing Wally was hard for him, Twister would show some sign of a problem. Sore back, most likely. But he has never once shown any sign of this. In ten years of reasonably hard riding, if packing this much weight was a negative, there should be SOME sign. But there is not. Twister is a free moving, sound, sixteen year old horse, still going strong. Of course, he’s just one individual.

            But I have, over the years, known many horse/rider pairs with a similar weight balance to Twister/Wally, and I have to say that I think the weight is a very small part of the staying sound equation. Horses go lame if they have obvious structural problems (sometimes), they go lame if they are overworked (sometimes), they go lame if they have a genetic predisposition (sometimes), and they go lame because they have a freak accident. I will add that its my belief that horses often go lame if they are not happy, but this is just my own belief, I can’t prove it. I have not seen any correlation between the weight of the rider and a horse going lame.

            Now I believe it is possible for a rider to be too heavy for a given horse. I think this actually has more to do with a horse’s build than with his weight. Our pony, Toby, came from a home where he regularly packed adults. I am sure that Toby weighed less than 1000 pounds, (he was 13.2 hands), but he was sturdily built and stayed absolutely sound until he died at 22 years of cancer.

            So it’s my contention that the idea that a horse should not carry more than 10 percent of his weight is bunk. Anybody else want to weigh in? (And yeah, that pun was intentional…)

            On another note, we have turned on the word verification on this blog because we were getting so much spam. I know a lot of people dislike this, so I’d like to hear your thoughts. Do you find the word verification off-putting enough that you would not comment if you had to jump through that hoop? We are concerned that the spam comments that show up on our posts from time to time may have links that, if clicked on, would put a virus on our reader’s computers. Any thoughts on this?

            And finally, Happy Easter! Look who was outside my kitchen window--could it be? 

Feeling Too Good

                                               by Laura Crum

            I am happy that Gunner, my 33 year old horse, feels good these days. But lately it’s been sort of a problem. The old boy wants to charge around, bucking and spinning and galloping up and down his pen at the drop of a hat. He especially likes to do this when I remove the neighbor horse from his pen. Gunner isn’t really worried—and there’s a horse on the other side of him. It’s just a good excuse to pitch a fit.

            The thing is, Gunner was never known for being sensible. A trooper yes, no quit in him. Friendly, kind, cooperative, playful…check. A heck of an athlete, yes. A tremendous amount of cow, super trainable…all of the above. But, sensible, no. My Sunny horse is sensible. Gunner is and always was the sort of horse who saw horse eating monsters everywhere. I believe the new term is a “sensitive, reactive” horse. I just called him a big spook. Also a goofball.

            So its not really surprising that Gunner, at the advanced age of 33, will choose to gallop madly down his sloping pen, slide to a stop at the bottom, spin round and race to the top, neighing wildly. Lather, rinse, repeat. All because the neighbor horse is out of his pen, grazing. Even though Gunner can, of course, see his buddy. He can also see the other horses. He just ain’t sensible. He LIKES getting all worked up.

            I watch these shenanigans, holding my breath. It’s fun to see that Gunner can still move so well when he wants to. But I fear these downhill charges will eventually result in the old, arthritic horse piling it up. I picture him breaking his leg or his neck, and yep, I go fetch his buddy and put the horse back in his corral. That’s how big a wimp I am.

            On the other hand, it’s not fair to Plumber, the buddy, if he never gets out. To my chagrin, I find that horses are very aware if they didn’t get their “turn.” The accusing stares and plaintive nickers that follow me when one horse does not get his turn out time speak louder than words. Plumber is a very people oriented horse and he lets me know he wants his fair share of the attention and grazing. So a week or so ago I turned Plumber out for awhile, and watched Gunner.

            It had just rained and the ground was slick. I had my misgivings. But I had not given Plumber a turn out in a couple of days. What’s a good horse owner to do?

            For awhile Gunner seemed OK. He could see Plumber grazing nearby. But then Plumber moved a little ways away, and the long unhappy neighs began coming from Gunner. He started trotting up and down the top end of his corral, sliding with every footfall. Shit, I thought. It’s too slippery.

            I caught Plumber and hustled back with him. But before I could get there, Gunner loped across the pen, slid to a stop, slipped, went down, and piled it up on the ground. He thrashed on his side, and seemed unable to get up, and my heart went to my throat. I will admit that I screamed, “Gunner!” like a teenage girl. I thought he had broken something.

            I have seen horses break their legs; I have seen them break their necks. I know what can happen. For that moment while my old horse thrashed on the ground, all these horrible scenarios flashed through my mind. And then Gunner got his legs under him and heaved himself to his feet. He limped off, but he was clearly not broken.

            I put the reluctant Plumber back in his pen and kept watching Gunner, who moved around and pretty soon walked out of his limp. He was Ok then. But my problem was bigger than ever.

            Because now I know that I am risking Gunner getting hurt if I turn Plumber out. And I just don’t want the old boy to die because I took the risk.

            What to do? I had the bright idea I might turn Gunner and Plumber out together. I don’t usually do this because my property is 1) Not perimeter fenced the whole way around, and 2) Full of places (like by the house or inside the shop or haybarn) where the horses COULD go, but I don’t want them to. There is good grazing on the verges of the riding ring, along the driveway, and in the barnyard area, and the horses usually stay where they belong. I shut (and lock) the front gate, and the back of the property (not fenced) is very steep and brushy and no horse has ever tried to escape that way (in twenty years). But…

            As a safety precaution, I turn the horses loose one at a time. That way they don’t tend to run and play and get in trouble, and I’m sure that the loose horse will not leave the others. However, I decided to try Plumber (24) and Gunner (33) loose together. Surely two old horses could graze peacefully side by side in the sunshine. Right?

            Bad idea. The very first thing they did was start farting around. Nipping each other, squealing, trotting off together, charging up the hill to the riding ring like a little cavalry brigade. Not at all what I had in mind. They just wouldn’t settle down and graze. They were having too much fun. Never mind that they can play around and nip each other in their side-by-side corrals and this was their one chance to graze on green grass. Nope, they had to go crashing about. And then the old farts wouldn’t let me catch them. Again, having too much fun. I did eventually get them caught and put away…and that was the last time I tried that.

            So now I feel kind of stuck. I turn Henry out.

                              I turn Sunny out.

                              I turn Gunner out.

            And then I catch Plumber and hand graze him, keeping him close to the corrals so that Gunner doesn’t freak out. It’s a solution, but not an ideal one. Plumber would prefer to be free, and I would prefer not to babysit him. But I worry about the downside. What would you do?