trinitydressage.com Blog

Wow – it’s been months since my last post. Suffice it to say, the weeks and months have been a blur of busy, but it is time to re-introduce many of the fine animals of the Farm to those of you who do not have the opportunity to meet these marvelous creatures in person.

As a brief update – my arm injury is healed and I am as healthy as I presumed I would be, and I surprised all medical people with my recovery time. When I was aksed what type of therapy I was doing, I smiled and told them, *Life*. Life is the best therapy I know.

Ok – just an update on Cocopuff a/k/a Jackie Chan. About one week ago he encountered wildlife of some sort. The meeting scared him more than hurt him, however he did receive oodles and buckets of love, vet care and attention. He was convinced that he had to come back to his little world and he begged Michelle to bring him back. This shot was taken the first night he was home – obviously exhausted by his ordeals and trying to communicate to his slow-witted caretakes.

In any event, he is home and trying to restablish his natural superiority.

Life is good.

The Chief Mucker-upper.

[caption id="attachment_313" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Physics 101"][/caption]

When I was in school, lo those many years ago, I was not a fan of the sciences. Business and such were my passions. (and horses, of course). So much to my delite and surprise, as I have grown, I have been exposed to the true-isms of the sciences over and over again……and find them much easier to learn in practice than in classroom.

On October 30th, I managed to execute many of the laws of physics and flying. Not particularly comfortably, but all true to the science that exists. The helmet is as graphic an illustration of what happened during my *unscheduled dismount* from one of my little equine angels. What it does NOT show is MY wing injury when I failed to Tuck & Roll and managed to pop my arm against the arena wall. Well POP it did – no broken bones, but it was not pretty. My raccoon eyes and goose egg forehead wasn’t so stylish either.

To my good luck, a fabulous friend was here at the farm when the flight occurred and she scooped me up – put my arm in a standing wrap (don’t you LOVE horse people) and whisked me off to the nearest ER. There – about 5 hours later, I was taken for abit of clean up in the operating room – and the beginning of much bandaging. And pain. And icky stuff. Well fabulous friends continued to show up to make all of my life possible during the down time. Then 10 days later the true wound closure was done and the battle to stitch and mend my arm, my business and my barn began.

This morning my surgeon pronouned my arm ‘wonderful’ The wound ‘terrific’. The last of the 80+ staples were pulled and the hand therapist began helping me stretch. All looks like it wil be well in a few weeks and I will be able to begin doing more and more around the farm. For now, I am pleased to be able to use 2 hands at the keyboard of my computer. My business clients have been patient (those that even needed to know at all) and my amazing, fabulous friends have been amazing and fabulous.

I would like to make one strong comment. I have worn a helmet for EVERY ride, on EVERY horse, on EVERY day for over 8 years. I have done so because although they can be annoying and hot ………..and I have horrible helmet hair…….I have but one egg and I always put it in a basket when i ride. As you can – hopefully – clearly see from the pictures, had I not followed that rule on that day, my arm would have been the least of my problems and I doubt, sincerely, that I would be saying Happy Thanksgiving to anyone.

Many people tell me ‘ I hate helmets because………….and you can insert any of your reasons here.’ My favorite one is ‘because I’ve been riding for years without one.’. Well until 8 years ago that was me too. Then I realized that change is a good thing. I had ridden for my lifetime with no helmet, but I had also smoked cigarettes, driven without a seat belt, used lead paint and – hang on here – played with MERCURY as a child – rolling the little balls around and doing who knows what with it when all of us kids were done. Now for Crips-sake they would call out a haz-mat team and close down the neighborhood. Sooooooo perhaps sometimes using today’s technology is a good thing, especially with the little egg I call my head.

As soon as I am done with the rehab on the arm I will be back in the saddle. And I will ride all my horses, including the one I dismounted from to cause this injury. But although I may be fearless, I don’t think I am stupid – so the new helmet is on order and will be strapped on my head as I stand on the mounting block.

Here’s to a fabulous, amazing and wonderful holiday everyone!!

So many people think that raising babies (horse babies that is) is sooooo kool. How fun. What excitement. Well, on that last part, I agree.

Today was the day barn owners loathe. Changing pastures. Weaning babies. Doing things in a different routine for our equine friends. Now I don’t want to imply that horses cannot stand change, but, let’s say they like change about as much as your grandparents do when asked what they want for dinner. They want to go to the same places, eat the same things, and complain EXACTLY like they did the last time. People…… do I hear the words, Routine….Routine….Routine…?????????????

This a.m., Irish was removed from the baby pasture and placed with his friend Fritz in a big-boy pasture. A few minutes of running and tail flagging, and then it was – boom – nothing heard except the heads hitting the grass to munch away.
Whew. Success.

Next.

Baby Sebastian was led out of Mama Sundays stall. Well, not actually led. Sort of half led, half pushed. On to the baby pasture, where his new friend Eduardo was waiting for him. And Paint the babysitter gelding. NOT.
Eduardo and Sebastian have been making friends for sometime in adjoining pastures. Paint was supposed to be the good older uncle. NOT. The first 15 minutes consisted of running, stopping, bolting and running, with the occasional attempt to not-to-subtlely knocking the baby into the fence line.

Ok – out comes Paint and for today it was just the two new little men. Tomorrow we go to plan ‘b’ and bring in the big guns. Winter’s Lady – babysitter EXTRODINAIRE will come to the rescue and help out our little men while the continue to grow up. Whoo-hoo. And who says all these pieces of yard art can’t come in handy…..

Tractor is being torn apart and repaired at the moment. The silly mechanic actually told me there was supposed to be oil, or grease, or something like that in the front two wheel axles. Imagine that. And there really was supposed to be hydrolic fluid in the backend? Well, who knew??? Obviously not me.

Why do educations always have to be so bloody expensive???????????????????????????

Miss Honey Bunny had endured an amazing amount of serendipity in her life. Her beginnings are unknown to me. Her history seems to have begun when the former owner of my place purchased her as an upper level dressage horse. She was half Lippizan and well suited for that sort of thing. However, she had an attitude to match her abilities and she evidently didn’t get on so well with the new owner……..bucking said owner off at various intervals.

She was then relegated to the back pasture where it was decided Honey would embark on a new career as a broodmare………(yeah, what’s with that attitude???……we can’t ride it, so let’s make MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!) In any event, she may have been near 10 or 12 when she started popping out babies annually. One of which I purchased – why???? because the baby was adorable and looks just like my flagship pony……… STUPID, STUPID, STUPID reason to buy a horse……………..but I digress.

When the owner decided to retire to Florida, she divested herself of all her broodmares and Miss Honey found herself making babies for another local breeder. When her mommy days were ending, Miss Honey was given to a lady who needed a pasture mate for another horse. That was when I re-found Miss Honey as she would be grazing in a field not far from me. After many months I noticed Honey was missing from said field and, upon inquiry, I found she had BEEN GIVEN AWAY FOR FREE TO SOME FAMILY ON CRAIGSLIST……………………not one phone call to return her to the gifter. Nada. Nothing.

Proving again that it doesn’t take any sense to own a horse. Equine Faux-paux. When ‘given’ a companion horse, do the right thing and at least make the phone call to see if the animal should be returned to the gifter.

Showing an admirable amount of good luck on Honey’s part – she had been transferred to a family that makes their living finding ‘free stuff’ on Craigslist and then reselling same. Which means – yes – I did eventually find Honey’s free home and – yes – I actually paid to go retrieve her.

She moved back into Trinity in September 2008. She ran, bucked, played. She made herself quite at home and reminded us all that she still had the worst tail in horsedom, and she still hated being fly-sprayed. Otherwise, life was good for her.

In February of this year she was cavorting in a turnout and nearly ripped her left hind leg off. She managed to filet the leg from hock to fetlock and I quit counting at about 42 stitches from the vet. This required injections, daily wrapping, medications, more wrapping. Frankly, without the assistance of my dear friend Michelle, I don’t know how I would have done it, as it fell during tax season (of course). Honey recovered with amazing soundness. She could still piaffe while standing in the cross ties. She was progressing into normal turnout and had about a one inch circle where the hide was still healing. Not bad for an old broad – right?

Well Sunday September 12th proved to be where her luck ran out. She started with a colic. Vet physical exam showed that she had a bowel obstruction – an enterolith – that had grown undetected over many years – to the size of a volleyball. Surgery was not an option for this mare of 24. She simply couldn’t luck herself out on this one.

With a great deal of banamine on board she was assisted to the happiest place she has ever been. I feel certain that she is flying down a fenceline – tail flagging – and keeping all local geldings in line. She might even throw in a piaffe or two to impress the locals.

My Honey Bunny, you are missed. Your heart, your tenancity and sheer will to live was a fabulous example of what a throw away horse has inside. I hope you’ll grant me a ride thru the wind someday