Chexy's Breaking In

Chexy is a three year-old Quarter Horse filly that I acquired in a trade deal with my horse tradin' friend. I have just begun to work with her to get her used to the idea of having a rider on her back and doing as she is told. At left is a picture of her wearing the saddle for the first time. She wasn't too keen on the idea of wearing a saddle. She pitched it off a couple of times when I started to saddle her. Eventually I got it on her and strapped down with the cinch, and then she acted like it was no big deal.
The second time I went to saddle her, she was having no part of that, so I decided I'd best go to the basics, square one, and pretend that she had never been handled before. I put her in the round pen and started wiggling a Walmart plastic bag tied to the end of a buggy whip at her. She nearly went into orbit. I thought she'd calm down after a short time, but 20 minutes later, she was still doing laps around the round pen at a gallop. I confined her a little tighter and went at her with the dreaded horse getter bag. She tried to knock the pen down when she found she couldn't get away from it. She thought about trying to climb out a time or two, but I would just raise the bag in front of her face, and she would think otherwise. After about ten minutes of this treatment, she finally stood there and let me touch her with the bag. I guess I would call this part, "sacking out." In the old days we used to do it with a burlap bag or the saddle blanket.
Today, I caught her again and led her to the round pen. She balked at the gate, knowing something dreadful was going to happen in there. I led her over to the saddle and blanket lying near the center of the pen. When I picked up the blanket, I showed it to her and let her sniff it, then placed it on her back. She tossed up her head and bolted. I just let her. Then I got the horse-eating whip with the Walmart bag still tied to it and gave her all the more reason to run. She ran for about 20 minutes before she finally decided to let me get near with the bag/whip. Pretty soon, she was standing still while I rubbed her all over with the Walmart bag. It had become more tolerable than the running.
Then I led her back over to the saddle and blanket. I placed the blanket on her back again and rubbed it up and down her neck to just behind her ears and let her wear it there for a few minutes. She didn't flinch. I slid it back into place on her back, then picked up the saddle. I let her sniff the saddle, then went calmly up to her left side and set it on her back. She just decided to quit resisting and stood quietly as I cinched it loosely on her back. I led her off--nothing, not a jump, not a hump. Again, she acted like it was not a big deal.
I trimmed all four of her feet, since we'd had some moisture to soften them. She stood for that pretty well, although whenever she took a foot away from me, I would make her do a few laps around the round pen. When I finished up with her feet, I got the bag/whip again and flicked it all around her body. Chexy just stood there, hardly even flinching. It was like she was saying, "You can't make me run!"
I rewarded her by turning her loose and giving her some hay. I think this mare is going to do just fine, she's just going to take a bit longer than the ones out of my old stallion, because she has a little "hotter" disposition. She has a lot of cutting horse blood in her, which, according to my daughter, makes them fighters. But in the end, she will make a fine cow horse. I am looking forward to her being the first horse I have trained from start to finish in about seven years now.
Speaking of which, my fun retirement is about to come to an end. I was offered a part-time job on the pipe line filling in for the guys I used to work with when they need a day off. Since the horse market has been in the basement for a couple years and my retirement fund taking a licking in the stock market, I decided I'd best jump at the chance to work for wages once again. I am grateful it is only part-time, though and I will be able to spend time with Chexy...and Jana...and King...and Dixie...and, and, and!

Riding Weather

I rode Jana Jet Jones for the first time today.
I have had this six-year-old red dun mare for about three years. She was abused as a youngster and then her owner bred her as a three year old, so her growth is stunted. I bought her shortly after he bred her at age three, basically to rescue her. She had a nice little sorrel filly foal about nine months after I bought her and Dixie is another story for another post.
When I weaned her filly, I sent her to a trainer to start her under saddle because I still had a full time job and two homes 150 miles apart to care for. She was with this trainer for several months, but I don't think she was ridden much, if any.
She has a funny personality for a horse. She is a touch-me-not until you get her caught, then she immensely likes attention such as brushing and petting. She fought me tooth and nail a couple times before when I was attempting to trim her hooves, but we worked through that trauma and now she is pretty good about her feet--once you get her caught.
So I bridled and saddled her today. I used a ring snaffle on her because that is the most forgiving bit there is. She resisted the bit for a while, and I just let her stand and get used to carrying it. Then I mounted her in a very small pen just in case she might want to pitch. They know they can't do much in a small enclosure, so they usually don't do much. She didn't offer to buck at all, but she was not giving to the bit and there really wasn't room to turn around well.
I took her to the 50' round pen and put some driving lines on her. I worked with her for about 20 minutes on moving out, stopping, and giving her head. She was pretty sweated up and her head had lowered to show she was receptive. I mounted up in the round pen. She still wasn't appreciating having to give her head to the direction of the piece of metal in her mouth, but she never tried to pitch. I rode her around the pen for about another ten minutes.
She's a small little mare, about 14.2 hands, with a very pretty head. She has Easy Jet, Smart Little Lena, and Pa Jones in her background, so she should have some speed and I think she will make a wonderful little pony for some lucky kid...maybe my grandson! She's a little stubborn, but usually those make the best mounts because they have a lot of try. Plus, she is a proven producer, having delivered another fine filly foal this spring to go with the one she was carrying when I bought her.

Weaning Fillies

I took the fillies away from their mamas a little over a week ago. I shut them in one corral with their dams just across the fence in another for a couple of days. They were about five and a half months old, so it was time, and time to get the mares dried up so they could gain a little fat on their ribs before winter sets in.
The foals didn't fuss much the first couple days with the mares right across the fence. They just wandered around trying to stick their heads through the fence so they could nurse, to no avail. After I let the mares back out on pasture, the put up a small fuss, though. They ran up and down the fence and whinnied for their moms. The moms didn't really care, they were ready to get out and eat some grass down on the creek, and ready to be free of their little charges, I think.
I had started feeding them a little grain along with their dams a couple months back, so they made the transition in feed just fine. It's amazing how much they settle down after being taken away from mama. Right before weaning, they were all full of themselves and would run by and kick up their heels at me on the way. I had spanked a couple of them for kicking, and I thought that might be a problem after I confined them to the corral, but there has been no such bad behavior. I guess they lose their bravado somewhat when their security force (mom) is removed. I put my 25 year-old gelding in with them to babysit. He needs the supplemental feeds they will be getting, also, and I figured he would make the fillies feel more secure. He has. The weaning has gone very smoothly so far.
After a week, I started letting the babies and old Gremlin back out on pasture during the day, then shutting them in at night, for fear of Mountain Lions. Whenever I have colts, the big cats seem to wander through. They can kill a colt and drag it up in a tree where they will return to feast for days, I have been told.
Two of the fillies have really settled down and become very approachable and even coveting my attention when I go to the corral, so I scratch, brush and pet them and pick up their feet to get them used to that. The littlest one, which I call Tiny, is a little stand-offish. She comes by that naturally, though. Her dam exhibits the same trait, besides Tiny was the one that knocked herself silly during halter breaking. I'm sure she remembers having had a headache as a result of contact with humans. Horses don't forget easily, especially a very frightening experience. But Tiny will come around just like all these excellent Permalight offspring.
Poor old Gremlin is having trouble maintaining his weight, and I'm afraid he is not going to survive the winter if it gets bad, like I think it is going to by reading the signs. I surely am dreading the day of his inevitable passing, somebody close the gate!

Hunting Season

I dread hunting season more and more each year. This year, Wyoming lengthened the season an extra week, so bowhunting started the last week in August. I had three antelope hunters here from Ohio hunting with bows and arrows. They each got a nice buck without too much trouble and they were fun to have here. I enjoyed cooking for them and visiting with them.
Then gun season started and that's when the fun ended. The state went around and put up signs designating all the state lands as walk-in areas. There is quite a bit of state land around here, and some of it is fenced in with the ranches, making it hard to tell where it starts and ends. Quite a few hunters found the state land that is right over my west boundary fence and it got a lot of pressure.
Historically, I haven't allowed much hunting to take place on my small ranch, simply because it is so small. As a result, the game feels pretty safe hanging out on my property. The deer had gotten into my expensive hay last winter and ate over a ton of it, so I decided maybe I should allow a little hunting. Some guys hunting the state land noted the game was hanging out on my property, so they came and asked to hunt. I agreed since they were considerate enough to come ask, and the guy had two small boys with him, so I figured it would be a good family time for them if they could be successful. They were.
Last Sunday a guest and I were out riding. While we were opening the wire gate to ride onto the state land, a black S.U.V. with Arkansas plates pulled up and a bearded man got out with landowner coupon in hand.
"This your ranch?' he asked.
"No," I answered, "this is public land. It goes in the box," motioning toward a wooden box on the fence, which he already knew was there.
My guest began visiting with the man a little as another man climbed out of the car to take pictures of us on the horses. The Arkansawyer said he had gotten a nice buck and my friend rode over to look at it in the back of the car.
"Where did you get it?" he asked.
The Arkie pointed and said, "Down over that fence yonder," which meant he had shot the buck on my land! I started to get my dander up, but my horse was dancing around in the road ditch because, unlike her sibling which my guest was riding, she didn't like the smell of the dead animal in the S.U.V., so I just moved off a ways. My friend said the man had gut-shot the antelope and hadn't field dressed it, so the guts were still in it! No wonder my horse didn't like the smell.
I decided he was too stupid to even upbraid about hunting on private land without permission. He wouldn't have comprehended. If he took the game to a locker plant, I bet he got a thorough chewing out. That meat will not be fit to eat. It rather made me mad that he had already put his landowner coupon in the state's box, though. I made a mental note to post more signs on the fence before hunting season starts next year.

Where's the Farrier?

Trimming and shoeing horses' hooves is hard work. I guess that's why there are very few people who are willing to do it these days. The muscles of the back, arms and legs get a workout while doing this. My nearest farrier is 72 miles yonder, so when I get him to come, we usually try to do ten to twelve horses in a day and that day's work costs me from $300-400, depending on how many are trimmed and shod, plus lunch. I don't usually keep them shod, though, so I have been trying to do all my farrier work myself to save money.
When you have 15 horses, though, that is a lot of feet to keep trimmed. When I first quit my cushy town job and moved back to the ranch, I could only manage to trim one or two hooves a day, at most. A while back, I trimmed six feet in one day! I am getting tougher.
I usually try to wait until after a rain or other moisture to soften up their hooves before I attempt to trim. It makes the job a lot easier. We had a long dry spell after all the rain that fell in May. It just shut off and there has only been about an inch or two that has fallen since. So after a rain, I have my work cut out for me. They all need trimmed three or four times a year.
It is better to have someone hold the horse while trimming, rather than tying them up, but that is usually not an option for me. I did have some hunters staying at the ranch the first part of September, and I had one of them hold a couple for me while I trimmed. He had filled his tag on the way in, so he had a lot of idle time while waiting for the other two to get their game.
I learned a little trick from my trainer that helps a bunch when they don't want to stand still and keep trying to take their feet away. You just lunge them (make them run around in circles) until they decide it is easier to stand and let you work on their feet than it is to do otherwise. Works like a charm and it also is good for their minds and training. Usually only 15 to 20 minutes of lunging is all it takes, but the more stubborn ones take a little longer, some up to 45 minutes.
A friend asked me if I was not afraid of getting kicked while trimming the back feet. The back ones are actually easier to trim than the fronts. You just sort of bend your knees and balance the foot on one knee with an arm over the crook of their leg, while standing slightly to the side of them. That way, if they try to kick, you can hold their leg steady if you are strong enough, and if not, it will toss you back and out of their line of fire. The front feet are more of a problem because you have to brace them between your legs so that you can use both hands to trim. You have to lean in slightly under their bellies, and if they try to jerk one away, you have to be quick to get out from under them. I have had their feet get tangled in my pants leg a little and have ripped more than one pair of pants, plus their feet can come down on the top of your foot if you are not quick enough.
I have a pair of very large palomino paint horses and one of them did a number on the top of my foot while I was trimming her last summer. She jerked her foot away, and it came down right on the arch of my left foot. It is still a little tender in that spot. Lady is almost 17 hands and probably weighs around 1,200 pounds. At right is her offspring, King, and he is slightly larger than Lady, but he's a teddy bear and never tries to take a foot away.
You have to be careful not to trim their hooves too short. They can be crippled that way. First you take your hoof pick and clean out the bottom of the foot. There is usually a little rim where the hoof wall meets the sole. It is best to try to trim the hoof wall even with the sole, then trim up the frog (the rubbery, v-shaped thing in the center of their foot) so that they are not putting too much pressure on it after you have trimmed the hoof wall. Then file down the freshly trimmed hoof with the rasp to make it all smooth and avoid cracks later.
Simple, but hard work, and I recommend you hire a farrier if there is one closer than 72 miles! Oh my, it looks like rain, where are my farrier tools?

Fall Work

The temperature has fallen abruptly and that reminded me I have several tasks that need to be done. First on the list was to get some wood cut and split when I seriously thought I would awaken to a blanket of snow the next morning. I lit the furnace and promised myself I would cut some wood the next day.
I began the woodcutting by working over my old chainsaw. I sharpened the chain, but it didn't want to run after being stored all spring and summer. I put fresh gas in, then pulled the spark plug. It was fouled, so I cleaned it and put it back in, not having a new one. The saw then ran for about an hour; enough time for me to cut about three days' wood. The wood was a little damp from the rain that fell the night before, so I decided to wait another day until the wood dried out a little.
The saw still didn't want to run when I went back after the job, so I decided it will have to wait until I get a new spark plug and also a new chain. I have sharpened the one I have so many times, there isn't much left of it. But these items probably can't be found in the nearest town, which is 30 miles away. I will probably have to travel at least 60 miles and maybe 100, or more, to get them.
Abandoning the wood cutting, I turned to roofing. The wind has taken most of the roofing off the west sides of my barn and a couple of sheds. It is a job I have put off as long as I can. The snow and rainstorms of this spring certainly pinpointed all the trouble spots with a vengeance.
I have quite a collection of galvanized steel that has collected here through the years from buildings torn down in the oilfield and used mobile home skirting, so I decided to put it to use in covering the holes in the roofs. I don't particularly like getting up on a very steep roof anymore. I used to like climbing around on roofs as a youngster, and would even leap off a low-hanging edge to the ground. My agility level has gone down dramatically as I age, however, and I no longer relish the thought. Yesterday as I teetered around on the steep roof of one shed, I almost knocked my ladder to the ground. "Don't do that, you dummy," I told myself, thinking that poor Nacho wouldn't know what to do to help me get down.
Today I made blisters on my hand using tin snips to cut the metal, and where the hammer rubbed against my forefinger as I hammered many, many nails through steel. Although the outside Farenheight temperature was only 65 degrees, it got hot up there on the roof in the afternoon, so I came down. I will go riding for awhile, then try to finish the first shed before dark.
Well, I went riding, but I didn't quite finish the roof. I got sidetracked by going after the mail, then unloading the wood I cut yesterday. That's the beauty of being self-employed. There's always tomorrow, and you don't have to explain to anyone why you didn't finish the job.

Watching Mustangs

I attended the Wyoming Mustang Challenge at the State Fair this year. I have never been a big fan of mustangs, but I gained a whole new appreciation for them at this contest. I had two friends in the competition, so my butt was glued to the bleachers for the duration of the two-day affair.
Area horse trainers were given the opportunity to test their horse training skills against others on a young horse that had never before been handled by humans. They were assigned a mustang through a draw pot and had about a hundred days to work with the animal and teach it as much as possible. The nice young man who starts colts for me was in the competition and I was asked to write a recommendation for him to be included. Another fine young man from the ranch I grew up on was also involved. They didn't win the competition, but their horses were some of the best trained and actually some of the high sellers in the adoption "sale" that followed. I kind of felt like the folks who voted with their dollars maybe saw some things the judges missed.
The horses were all three and four year-old geldings that had probably only been touched once before at the time they were castrated. This, of course, would not have been a positive experience with humans for them. So the trainers started with a large animal that not only had a disturst of humans, but probably also a fear.
It was simply amazing what they were able to accomplish with some of these animals in 100 days. Several of them had their mustangs jumping and nearly all of them could work cattle and even rope and stop a cow from their horse. One girl actually had hers jumping rope. Several of them could stand up on their mount's backs and one guy would do a back flip to get in the saddle and then do a front flip on his dismount.
I only saw one mustang buck with his trainer. He bucked so hard the rider's boot flew off. The guy was one of the older trainers out there, and he stayed astride. He was laughing as he rode out of the arena after retrieving his boot and getting back on. He tipped his hat. The next day he explained the mustang's behavior somewhat, saying he had neglected to warm him up properly, then gave him a "rude spur." The bucking exhibition rather hurt the horses price in the adoption, however. It brought nine hundred dollars, which was more than I thought it might.
The high-selling mustang brought $5,000. He was a large, high stepping bay ridden in a tight tie-down, and I didn't think he was one of the better trained horses. They had noted that he could be registered with the Pinto Association due to some white spots he had, and I think that is what caused his price to go up. The one I thought was the best trained brought $4,100 in the sale. He was doing high jumps while his owner shot a pistol and would drag a kid around the arena on a plastic tarp at a full gallop. His trainer said he started riding him the first day he had him home. He was the overall reserve champion in the competition.
Some of these "Mustangs" didn't fit the typical body and bone structure type of a feral horse. Many of them looked like typical Quarter Horses, and I suspect some are closely related to domestic horses that have been turned out on the range to run with the wild ones. At any rate, the Mustang Challenge Competition was a stroke of genius by someone to promote the training and adoption of these animals which are too plenteous and posing problems on the public range.
For more information, see http://mustangheritagefoundation.org/.