A Minor Revelation

                                    by Laura Crum

            So the other day I had a revelation. Or a possible revelation. It was my birthday, actually. And my one wish for my birthday was to have my husband and son and our friend/boarder, Wally, help me clean out my barn. The barn was a total mess, crowded with twenty years accumulation of old, broken, useless horse junk. I am not a neat horse housekeeper. The idea of cleaning the barn up had become very daunting to me (there was so much old, moldy junk), but the mess bothered me every single day. So when I was asked what I wanted for my birthday, I quickly scanned through the notions of outings, meals, presents…etc and came up with the one thing that really resonated for me. I wanted a clean barn. So that’s what we did.

            I am sure glad I had help, because I never would have made it through the process alone. You would not believe how many rats and mice were hiding in the rotten old bits of tack and the feed bags I forgot to throw out. Not to mention the rusting, broken feeders…etc. There were plenty of black widow spiders, too. But my intrepid helpers were not afraid, and all the junk got cleaned up and hauled away.

            My barn is just a pole barn—it was built to store feed and shelter a vehicle—there is a shed in the back that I can turn into a box stall when I need one. All useful tack resides in the horse trailer, because this barn is no place for tack—everything gets dusty in the summer and moldy in the winter. My goal was to get the junk removed and to be able to park the truck inside once more. And this goal was accomplished—as you see below.

           

            The barn cleaning was very satisfying to me, but it didn’t produce the revelation. I already knew that a reasonably tidy barn would feel very good. No, the revelation happened afterward. Because after the barn was nice and tidy (by my admittedly not-very-high standards, anyway), I sat down in my chair in the barnyard, in the shade of an oak tree, and just contemplated things for an hour.

            I had already fed the horses lunch and they were puttering around, as horses do. We’d been down there all day working, but not paying much attention to them, so they were resigned to the notion that I wasn’t going to get them out. Thus they ignored me, sitting there quietly in my chair, and I just watched them doing their own things.

            This was, when I came to think about it, unusual. My horses tend to notice the moment I approach the barnyard and come to their gates, nickering plaintively. “Me, get me.” The message is plain.

            Usually when I go down there I am either feeding, or I get a horse out to turn him loose to graze, or brush him, or ride him. At times, in fact, I avoid going near the barn because I don’t have time (or inclination) to interact with the horses and I feel guilty ignoring their pleas to be got out. So sitting quietly in my chair watching them while they appeared unaware of me—I think they had pretty much forgotten I was even there—was kind of a novelty.

            I keep my horses in big corrals (they average 40 feet by 150 feet)—one horse to a corral. They have pasture sheds they can go in and out of at their choosing—there is room for them to run and buck and play—and they do. Every horse has at least one horse that he can touch and play with through the fence—and they all can see each other. I feed them three times a day—a mixed grass/alfalfa—which gives them something to pick at most of the time. And here’s the thing. I often wonder if they are happy.

I think we horse owners have all wondered if our horses are happy. I used to think my horses would be happiest turned out in a big pasture—and then for almost twenty years I did keep horses this way, and I spent a lot of time with them. To my surprise they often looked just as bored as horses in corrals. They grazed when they wanted, yes, but this worked out to be about three main sessions a day, just the way I feed my horses in their corrals. The rest of the time they stood around idly swishing at flies and looking, well, bored.

            But on this day, watching my horses stand companionably with their buddies, switching their tails, one hind leg cocked, I saw it differently. Because here I sat in my chair, idly doing nothing, and I’m sure that if anyone was there to see me (which there wasn’t) I might have looked bored. But I wasn’t. I was absolutely content. And thus it finally dawned on me that maybe my horses were perfectly content, too.

            Horses sleep on average only two hours a day. So perhaps these long hours of idling, pleasantly relaxed, are what they need, what they crave. Maybe the boredom I’d projected onto them had been only a manifestation of my own restless spirit. I somehow thought they needed to be grazing, or running around, or interacting with each other, or they didn’t “look happy.” But maybe I was wrong about that.

            If I was happy, sitting quietly in my chair, doing nothing, maybe they were happy, too. Maybe horse happiness doesn’t look like what I supposed. Maybe a full belly, water to drink, space to move around and run if you want, soft ground to lie on and roll on, and other horses for company is really enough. My horses like attention, and so they lobby for me to get them out when they see me. But in this moment, when they weren’t thinking about me, they looked pretty darn content.

            So I’m chewing on this awhile. I’m sure that some of you have contemplated this subject as well…wondering if your horse seemed happy. Any thoughts?

Downs and Ups

                                                by Laura Crum

            Well, this blog post has gotten a little convoluted. I wrote it a week ago and it started out just like the title sounds. First I whined a bit about the negative stuff in my life, and then I described the stuff that brings me joy (with photos). I reread the post a couple of days later and the whining sounded irritating, even to me. So I deleted that part. But then the post sounded very Pollyannish—all roses and sunshine, as if my life were one long idyll. Which it isn’t.

At this point I began to contemplate the larger issue (I have a habit of this). Was it better to be truthful about the downs, or just express gratitude about the ups? Not only in blog posts and facebook posts, but in conversations with friends and loved ones…etc. I thought about how I view others. I don’t care for those who do nothing but whine, but neither do I care for those who seem to have their heads buried in the sand and refuse to acknowledge reality. I do not admire the Pollyanna mentality.

So I rewrote the post again, adding back in some of the negative stuff I had deleted. I tried to make it as honest as I could. I also found a few more positive things that I’d forgotten to acknowledge the first time. What you see below is the result. I’d like to ask how you feel about this. Do you like the notion about being truthful about life’s ups and downs? Or would you prefer this post if I’d eliminated the whining and stuck to the gratitude (and the pretty photos)? I’m really interested in this topic in an overall sense. Is honestly and openly acknowledging the negatives a good thing or not? I know we all have our share of negative feelings. Even the best of us “pace restlessly between longing and gratitude,” as my friend Elizabeth Speth so eloquently put it (Mostlybeautifulthings). What is the best approach to that which brings you down—not just in blogging, but in life?

Anyway, here is what I ended up with—I would love to hear your thoughts.

 There are times I feel sad. There are times I feel pissed off. I don’t tolerate injustice meekly. My family has gone through a tough year. Some of the adversity that befell us was nobody’s fault. Just fate, I guess. Health issues and the like of that. Nothing anybody could have done to prevent it. But some of the problems were quite preventable. They were caused directly by poor behavior on the part of people we trusted, that we thought were our friends. The hurt and bitterness from such a betrayal of trust lasts a long time. I do my best to let go, forgive, and move on. But there is no denying that anger, like a bright flame, burns in my heart from time to time when I am reminded of how false these friends were.

            There you see my downs. I acknowledge them. I don’t see any point in hiding from reality behind some kind of pretense that “it’s all good.” Paradoxically, it is truth that sets me free. Because I can feel the downs I can also feel the ups. Each and every day my main emotion is joy and gratitude. I have a good life and I know it. It is so because I actively create it that way, as do my husband and son. We are, all three of us, very good at appreciating the beauty around us and choosing to create more beauty in engaging ways. The world can hurt us, yes. But it cannot make us unaware of how lovely our life is.

            There are times when my faith in humanity in general is pretty low. But there is no day when my trust in the glory of the natural world ever falters. There is no day when I do not find much to delight me here on my property. My sense of connection to what is good and true and beautiful remains intact. My ability to make choices that make me happy is a very real part of me. And I can readily see that my husband and son are the same. We know how to tell the truth—both to ourselves and to other people-- and we know how to see the truth. I have a feeling this may not make us comfortable people for much of the world to hang out with. But I, at least, am willing to pay the price of rejection by those folks in order to have the delight of connection with the reality of plants and animals, wind and water, stone and sky. I honestly do not think this sort of connection is possible without a spirit that can recognize and acknowledge truth and respond in kind.

            I am so grateful for my husband and son and the lovely place where we live and the animals and plants who share our home. I am also very grateful for the good people in our lives—of which there are many. Both real life friends and internet friends. Not one day goes by that a friend doesn’t make me smile. And one of the greatest recent gifts I’ve discovered is the pleasure of seeing snapshots of other beautiful lives on the internet.

            So today I want to go through a little exercise in gratitude and sharing. I know, I’ve done this before. But it makes me happy to dwell on the beauty around me, and some of you have said that you like my photo posts. Perhaps these pictures will make a few people smile.

            Here are some shots of the life that gives me so much joy. (All of these photos were taken in the last couple of weeks.)

            Our new little pool is a real gift on hot days.

            Every single day when I walk down to my barnyard, I smile to see my horses. Here Sunny is on the “tree tie” to be groomed while Gunner and Henry play “bite face” in the background.

            The greenhouse is producing more vegetables and salad than we can eat. We do not buy these things any more. I am so grateful to have healthy food that we raise ourselves.

            The vegetable garden is just coming into full production also.

            My husband begins making tacos with veggies that all came from the greenhouse and garden and beef from our own grass fed steers—and a whisky sour for the cook.

           

            My son and I ride together once or twice a week. It makes me very happy that we can still share this activity on our good horses, now that my boy is thirteen--just as we have been sharing it since he was a baby.

            The world we ride through is beautiful.

 My son and his 26 year old Henry enjoy the coolness of the redwood forest on a hot day.

            

            My husband is a piper and every year on Memorial Day he plays his pipes at the old Soquel cemetery to honor the veterans.

                       

            I see spotted fawns out my window.

            

            There are butterflies. What more can I say?

           

           

            

Same stuff, different day

By Gayle Carline

Once again, you've caught me away from the computer, at the L.A. Equestrian Center. With any luck, I'll be showing Snoopy this morning at the Lights, Camera, Action Horse Show. I love the horse show environment, especially now that I just do it for fun. Will we win? Who knows. Will I have a good time? You bet!

While I'm out and about, I'm happy to announce the release of my newest book, MURDER ON THE HOOF. It's available on Kindle and in paperback. You can go here to buy it - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KGSALGY

Or, go here to enter a contest to win a free copy - http://gaylecarline.blogspot.com/2014/05/release-day-is-here.html

OR, go HERE to enter a contest to win a free copy and something much bigger (hint: like, a Kindle Paperwhite) - http://gaylecarline.blogspot.com/2014/05/but-wasnt-there-another-contest.html

In the meantime, it's Saturday. Go ride your ponies!

My Horse Won't Cuddle

                                                by Laura Crum

            I have an acquaintance (a friend of a friend) who bought a reliable older gelding. She paid a fair price for him. She’s owned him a year and he is sound and reliable, just as she’d been told. She’s gone on many pleasant trail rides with no problems. But she’s not happy with her horse. She says she’s thinking of selling him.

            Why? Well, she says the horse doesn’t like her and that they haven’t formed a “bond.” (Let us understand right now that this is a young woman who has only owned one previous horse—and that one for only a year when she was a teenager.) I asked why she felt this horse didn’t like her, and she said that the horse didn’t want her to pet him. The horse didn’t seem to enjoy grooming. The horse only engaged with her when she fed him. Otherwise he gave clear indications that he didn’t want her to fuss with him.

            I asked if he pinned his ears or mock nipped at her—and she said no, nothing like that. He was well-behaved both under saddle and on the leadrope. He just didn’t show any interest in being affectionate with her.

            I have to admit I stared at this gal in mild consternation. THIS was a problem?

            Uhmm, I told her—you are basically describing my son’s horse, Henry. He behaves exactly like this. And I think Henry is a wonderful horse. We all love him to bits. He’s cheerful, reliable, and honest as the day is long. It makes me smile just to see his bright-eyed face nickering at me at feeding time.

            But no, Henry does not like to be petted. Not by any of us, or anybody else that I have ever seen. He clearly does not enjoy being groomed. He obviously wishes that people would not fuss with him. He doesn’t pin his ears or act disagreeable. But he ignores all “fussing” with a disgruntled expression on his face, and moves away from it if he can. He tolerates being saddled and ridden with good grace, but the only thing he shows true enthusiasm for is food. Whether treats, or meals, or being turned out to graze—Henry LOVES to eat.

            My son has noticed that Henry doesn’t care for affection. My boy’s previous pony, Toby, did like being petted and enjoyed hanging out with people. Henry could give a damn about hanging out with people. He just wants people to feed him. But both my kid and I have come to understand and be amused by Henry. And to love him for what he does so well.

            As my son says, “I like hanging out with Gunner and Plumber (who both like attention and petting) but Henry is my good riding horse.”

            The thing is, I’ve been in the horse biz a LONG time and I’ve known many good horses very like Henry. My beloved Flanigan was this way. Yes, it’s gratifying to the ego to own a horse that wants to cuddle with you, but I had a hard time not saying to this gal, “Get your ego out of the way and recognize what a good horse you’ve got. Not all horses like to be petted and fussed with. Your horse is sound and reliably does the job that you bought him to do. Can’t you love him for that? Must he also want to cuddle with you?”

            So I thought about this for a while and decided to put it out there to the rest of you. Is a horse who doesn’t care for petting and fussing a deal breaker for you if he is a good horse otherwise? Trust me, there are many horses that honestly don’t like this sort of attention and you won’t train them to like it, though you may train them to tolerate it. But being “tolerated” is not what people like the gal who talked to me are looking for. They want the horse to “like” them. They want the horse to cuddle with them to show them that he likes them. I don’t think I can explain to her in a way she would understand that her horse may very well like her. He just doesn’t show it the way she wants him to. Sort of like a man who brings you tea in the morning and makes you a cocktail in the evening and cooks dinner—but never whispers sweet nothings in your ear or buys you flowery cards. It’s just a different way of showing affection, but none the less sincere.

            How do I know that Henry likes us? Well, when we came to see the old guy after colic surgery, he was in a stall and looked a bit shaky, but bright eyed. He saw us walk into the barn and went immediately to the door of his stall and nickered at us, just as he does every morning at feeding time. He stuck his head in the halter when I opened the stall door. He still didn’t want to be petted—but he wanted to go with us wherever we were going. We were his family and he knew it. He stepped out eagerly beside my son, a little wobbly, but game to stay with his boy. That’s good enough for me.

            So what did I actually tell this gal? I just said that lots of horses don’t care for being petted and fussed with and that I personally wouldn’t be at all bothered by this, if the horse was a good horse otherwise. She looked singularly unimpressed. I don’t doubt that she is going to sell her gelding and buy something that she thinks she can “bond” with. And I am sorry, but I have a niggling, not-very-nice impulse to wish that she will end up with a horse that just LOVES to be petted—but routinely dumps her and is resistant when she rides it. Because yes, indeed, they do come this way, too. And I’ve known quite a few of them. Loved to be petted, very affectionate on the ground, completely adversarial under saddle and willing to be violent.

            So tell me…which horse would you rather have? And yes, some horses are fond of petting and good riding horses, too. My son’s Toby, my Plumber, and Wally’s Twister all fall in this category. And then there are horses like my Sunny who like to test you, and are only affectionate after you’ve won the latest round in the dominance game. In other words, you beat them up a little and they just LOVE you. Sounds really dysfunctional, I know, but that’s just the way some of them work.

            And yes, I love Sunny, too. I don’t mind walloping him when he demands it, and I very much appreciate his many good points. So I guess I’m OK with different personality styles in horses. My bottom line tends to be whether they come through for me—and I’m willing to give them a lot of space to be who they are, if so.

            Anybody else have a thought on this subject?

            

Turning on a Dime

Speaking of new horse fiction, here's another awesome read, brand new from Maggie Dana, author of the popular Timber Ridge Riders series for girls. This one, called Turning on a Dime, involves time travel, two horse girls from different centuries, and a whole lot more.

 
Teenage equestrian Samantha DeVries wants to be the first African American to ride in the Olympics. Her father, a successful trainer, pushes Sam to excel, while Sam’s academic mother tries to instill a sense of heritage in her headstrong daughter who’d rather be riding horses than studying history. But Sam’s beliefs and her carefully constructed world shatter like a jelly jar when she travels through a time portal and lands in the canopy bed of an 1860s Southern belle.

Even more surprised by Sam’s unexpected arrival is Caroline Chandler. She’s a tomboy who wears breeches beneath her crinoline and rides horses bareback, much to the dismay of her critical mother.

But neither girl has time to fret over petticoats and prejudice. The Civil War is raging, and soldiers from both sides are stealing horses. At risk is Pandora, Caroline’s beloved mare. Without her, Sam’s future Olympic horse, Nugget, might not exist in the present.

Neither will Sam if the slave catchers grab her.

I was lucky enough to be one of the first readers of this book, and I adored it. A fast-moving adventure story, it's also filled with history and humor as these two girls discover the differences (some fun, some scary) in their two worlds. Perfectly suitable for youngsters, there are enough meatier issues in this book to grab the attention of adults. Whether you love horses, time travel, historical novels, or just great adventure stories, Turning on a Dime is a recommended read.

Available as an ebook and paper book from most online stores:
Amazon   Barnes & Noble  iTunes   Kobo

Turning on a Dime is a gripping narrative filled with delightfully original moments ... perfect for young adults who love horses, feisty female protagonists, and unique timeslip dilemmas. -- Midwest Book Review

Oh and hey! Just discovered a contest on Goodreads to win Turning on a Dime. It's right here:
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/93213-turning-on-a-dime


For more on Maggie Dana's Timber Ridge Riders series:
http://www.timberridgeriders.com/
https://www.facebook.com/TimberRidgeRiders

Happy Summer Reading, Everyone! And Happy Summer Riding!

An "Ambition" ebook giveaway!

by Natalie Keller Reinert

Hurray! It's been a big week for me, as my newest novel Ambition, was finally released as an ebook. I wrote about Ambition here at Equestrian Ink last week, in "It All Comes Down To This."

Like my racing novels, Ambition is set in the rolling hills of Florida’s horse country, Ocala. But this time, I'm writing about the great sport of eventing.

Jules Thornton didn’t come to Ocala to make friends. She came to make a name for herself. Young, determined, and tough as nails, she’s been swapping stable-work for saddle-time since she was a little kid — and it hasn’t always been a fun ride. Forever the struggling rider in a sport for the wealthy, all Jules has on her side is talent and ambition. She’s certain all she needs to succeed are good horses, but will the eventing world agree?

Ambition is already getting great reviews: over at the popular website Horse Junkies United, a reviewer had this to say: "I couldn’t put it down! Her writing style is easy to read, and the pages flow effortlessly. Most of all though, I was thrilled with all of the horsey details that were not only abundant, but accurate! This is were you could tell that the author had experience in the sport that she was portraying, lending this to her storyline and characters, making them come realistically to life."

In celebration of Ambition's release, I'm going to give away three eBook copies here at Equestrian Ink. Just use the handy Rafflecopter doo-dad below and enter! I'll send the winners an eBook of Ambition in the format of their choice (PDF, .mobi for Kindle, or .ePub for Nook). The giveaway will be open through June 2nd at midnight.

Can't wait that long? You can always grab your own copy of Ambition at Amazon, BN.com, iTunes, or Kobo! And stay tuned for the paperback -- one thing I can assure you of, the paperback is gorgeous. 

Well, that's all from me. Good luck! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Ongoing Dilemma

                                                            by Laura Crum

            I have a dilemma. It’s been this way for over a year now. And I am not finding a solution. I don’t think there is a solution. But it bugs me every single day.

            You see, I have a 34 year old horse that I love very much. This is Gunner. I have owned him since he was three.

 I broke and trained this horse myself and competed on him at many events. He’s been with me for over thirty years.

Here he is last summer—not looking too bad for 33.

But every day now I go through a roller coaster ride of emotions concerning Gunner. There are two “sides” arguing in my head. It’s not good horse owner versus not-good horse owner—it’s more like two types of good horse owner. Let’s call them type A and type B. They never shut up in my mind.

A: “You should put that poor old horse down. He’s limps every step he takes. He’s old and frail and it’s just a matter of time till he goes down and can’t get up. You should put him down now.”

B: “How can you put him down? He’s bright-eyed, eager for his meals, has gained weight in the last few months. The painkillers keep him reasonably comfortable. Yeah, he’s lame, but he still breaks into a trot voluntarily and he moves around his corral very freely. He gets down and rolls and gets up again every day. He doesn’t look unhappy. Why would you put him down?”

A: “Sure he trots, but you can’t stand to watch him do it. Because half the time when he trots he stumbles on that arthritic knee and almost goes down. You’ve watched him go all the way down half a dozen times and it almost killed you. It didn’t help him, either. He always walked off lamer. Even when he stumbles and catches himself he walks off lamer. Put him down before he falls down once too often and breaks his leg and suffers.”

B: “But he doesn’t want to let go of his life yet. Every time I go down to the barnyard he spots me and goes to his gate and bumps it with his nose to let me know he wants me to let him out to graze. He loves his grazing time, he likes being groomed and getting attention, he’s cleaning up as much senior feed as he ever has. He’s not ready to quit.”

A: “But maybe it’s time you made that choice for him. He’s got a lot of heart and he keeps trying, but do you want him to try and try until he CAN’T do it any more? Why would you put him through that?”

B: “I guess if it were me I wouldn’t want my life taken until I was ready to let go of it. And maybe he would rather keep trying as long as he can. Gunner doesn’t limp any more than our 80 year old friend Wally, and Wally can look pretty frail and shaky, too, walking along—and you’ve seen Wally stumble and fall several times. But Wally still enjoys his life very much—why would you suppose that Gunner is different? The last time I had the vet out here, thinking maybe I would put Gunner down, that old horse trotted away from the vet at a pretty brisk clip. I swear he could read my mind. And the vet said, ‘I don’t think he’s ready.’ That’s just it. I don’t think he’s ready. And I have to wait until he tells me he’s ready.”

A: “Are you going to think you made the right choice when you come down to feed one morning and find Gunner lying on the ground…and you know he lay there for hours in pain?”

B: “I don’t know. I know I have not yet felt it was the right choice to pick up the phone and call the vet and end Gunner’s life. Not when the old horse looks as bright as he does.”

A: “But you are afraid every time you go down to the barnyard. Afraid that Gunner will be dead…or worse. For every time that you smile when you see him playing with his neighbor, there are three times you wince when you see him take a bad step.”

B: “But he does still play with his neighbor. He does still enjoy life.”

A: “He’s a huge management headache. You can’t turn his neighbor/friend horse out to graze because Gunner freaks out. If Gunner weren’t here, all your other horses could be turned loose to graze virtually every day and they would have a MUCH better quality of life.”

B: “That’s true. But I can’t put Gunner down because he’s a management problem. I owe him more than that, and I love him.”

A: “Maybe you should make the hard choice out of love for him.”

B: “Dammit, I would, if I thought it was the right choice. But how can I give up on him before he’s ready to give up?”

And so it goes, on and on. Type A is the pragmatic, logical side of me and type B is the more sentimental, intuitive side. So far type B is winning, but it’s a struggle. I know there are valid points on both sides.

The thing is that I have never put one of my loved horses down until it was a clear cut thing. Flanigan colicked at 21 and didn’t come out of it after being treated for over 24 hours. He wasn’t a candidate for surgery because he had a diaphragmatic hernia. And if we weren’t going to attempt surgery it seemed clear that it was time to end his suffering.

Burt had a stroke at 35 and was down on the ground twitching and I couldn’t get him up. When we still couldn’t get him up after an hour of trying and the vet’s help (and the vet was clear she thought he wasn’t coming out of it), I had no questions about what to do.

Toby was diagnosed with a tumor in his kidneys. He’d had two previous run-ins with cancer. When I decided against surgery, I kept him as comfortable as I could with painkillers, and when he quit eating, refused treats, and began grinding his teeth, I had the vet out that afternoon. Again, I knew it was time.

            I’ve always waited until it was clear. I’ve never arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand. I watched my friend Wally do this with his good horse, Pistol, and though I understood and did not feel it was a wrong choice, I’m not sure it is the choice I would have made.

            So yeah, I don’t know what to do. I muddle along, day by day, waiting for Gunner to tell me. So far it hasn’t happened. But I look away when he trots, afraid that he will fall again. I wince when he takes a bad step. I walk down to feed every morning looking anxiously for Gunner, hoping that he is OK.

            Yes, I smile when I see him playing with his neighbor horse, or dozing companionably alongside his old buddy, muzzle to muzzle. I try to get him out to graze as much as I can, and it’s clear that he is very keen to do this. I’m happy that his spirit is strong and he’s cleaning up his feed. I watch him roll and get back up and think, well, OK, then. I’m very grateful that he’s still with me and still bright-eyed and willing to engage with me and the other horses. But still…I wonder. I wonder if I am doing the right thing.